#oh my gosh BLOOD BENDING

[pageofheartdj]

Thinking again what kind of bending the bros would have!

I would never compromise on Leo being a waterbender and Mikey being an airbender.

Leo with his fluid and quick agility and sharpness and his more prominent care for family(everyone do but you can see that Leo is a bit more persistent)(and yes because blue jhd xD) And Mikey with his passifistic nature, being bouncy in the air and light-heartness and secret deadliness(and yes because orange dksh xD)

But Donnie and Raph? That got me trouble xD

At first I thought to make Donnie a firebender because of his drive to create and Fire Nation being the one with a tech, and Raph being an eartbender because of how stubborn he is and how he is a rock for a family.

But then I saw some opinions and eventually it got switched xD

Raph would be a firebender since he is also very passionate and driven person(and yes because red kjsh xD) and Donnie would be an earthbender since he is also stubborn and makes a stable foundation. Plus he can have metal bending! THE METAL BENDING!!

[glitterycvm]

Herbalist!Reader X Sukuna

WARNINGS: SMUT, p in v, degrading, rough sex, sukuna being mean

a/n: this took so long to write 😭😭

synopsis: sukuna gives u a reward for healing him

divider creds: animatedglittergraphics-n-more

it was about 11pm at night, and you needed to grab a couple more herbs to complete a medicine order. the thing was, the order was due tomorrow morning, and you had procrastinated the whole day. so here you are, roaming around the forest scrummaging around bushes, and trees, basket in hand which a flashlight in the other.

you were peacefully looking through a patch of echinacea, when you suddenly heard someone grunting with pain. you were a little worried, nobody ever came into this area, especially at 11PM at night... you were also curious about the noise, wanting to find out the cause of it. what's the worst that could happen?

flashlight in your hand you try to find the source of the noise, which soon turned into heavy pants and footsteps. as you searched you heard footsteps approaching you, you hide behind a bush,you place a hand over your mouth to muffle your breathing. then you see a tall pink haired man who was clearly very beat up, cuts spotted all around his chest area. he also had very distinct black tattoos. even though you could barely see him under the moonlight, you couldn't deny that he was very attractive.

you felt an urge to get to know him, to be near him, to just be in his presence so you take a deep breath and approach the tall man. as you walk towards him, "excuse me!" you belt as you walk closer to the man. he turns around and looks down at you. gosh he was so tall. and the way he looked at you, his piercing dangerous gaze. "what?" he hisses, hand over his chest. there was blood all over his hand. you looked back up at him sympathetically "I noticed that you're injured, like really badly..." you pointed out "and I was wondering if you wanted to come back with me to my cottage so I could take care of your wounds?" you offer. oh the innocence in your eyes, the way you looked up at him, the kindness of your heart. sukuna was invested. he wanted to ruin all that kindness and Innocence in you. he found it so cute that you had no idea what you were about to drag yourself into.

sukuna smirks, he bends down to your level, he scoffs loudly "you think I would need your help? please.I think I can take care of myself." he mocks. his words make your heart ache, why was he so mean about it? but you weren't gonna give up now. he was going to be yours. "are you sure? you know you have a lot to say for a guy who's nearly bleeding out" you remark, crossing your arms in the process. "c'mon let me fix you up, unless it hurts your precious little ego-" you tease. sukuna glared at you dangerously "you better watch your mouth." he grunts, you smirk, "aw? did that hurt your feelings?" you mock him. "you know what? if it makes you shut up, fine then!" he snaps. sukuna was loving the little game you were playing with him. if anything it made him even more attracted to you.

"so your name's sukuna?" you repeat, as you begin to clean his wounds. "didn't I just say that?" he snaps back. "woah chill out" you mutter as you begin to open a jar of aloe vera gel. sukuna rolls his eyes and stares up at the wooden roof of your humble cottage. "this might sting so be prepared" you warn before spreading a thin layer on his wounds. sukuna hisses at the sharp burning sensation. he looked so hot when he felt pain. the way his eyebrows furrowed, and the sounds he made... you wanted him so badly. you close the jar tightly, "that should be it" you comment. sukuna sits up on the couch, as you stay sitting on the floor. now you could get what you really wanted this whole time. "you know I think I did a really good job" you praise yourself. sukuna smirks sharply "I guess you did..." he admits "don't you think I should get a little reward?..." you ask slyly, as you rise up from your knees. sukuna chuckles "oh and what would that reward be?"

SCHLAP. SCHLAP .SCHLAP."s-slow down sukuna!" you mewl, placing a hand near his hips to try to slow him down. sukuna chuckles and grabs both of your hands and pin them to your back. "what happened to wanting that reward huh? too much f' you to handle slut?" he whispers in your ear, his voice raspy and endearing. he slaps your ass as he mercilessly thrusts into you. your sweet moans echo throughout your small cottage, the sound of skin slapping harmonizes with your moans. "if you keep going like this, you'll get hurt again..." you warn him. he rolls his eyes "oh well, you'll just have to fix me up again, and we both know you would love that." he says coldly. he thrusts into you like he's running out of time. his second cock rubbing up against your clit giving you endless amounts of ecstasy.

"i-im so close" you whined, sukuna smirks and flips you around making you lay on your back this time. you whine at your denied orgasm, sukuna just laughs devilishly. "didn't think I would let you come so quickly did you? you thought I would forget about that attitude you gave me earlier? now come and take this cock like the filthy slut you are." he demands as he aligns his cock with your entrance. the way he degrades you just turns you one even more, your pussy getting wetter by the second. without warning he slams into your hole, his second cock now grinding on your puffy clit rapidly. sukuna pushes your legs all the way to your chest, so he could abuse the shit out of your cervix. the amount of pleasure you were receiving was both heavenly and painful. your eyes were filling with tears from all the sensations.

you once again attempt to slow him down by placing a hand on his chest. sukuna grabs both your hands and pins them above your head, he leans in to whisper in your ear "don't run away now, where was the filthy whore I met a while ago? I thought you wanted this as a reward? that's what I thought. now shut up and take this dick." he commands. oh the way he degraded you was so hot. he talked to you like you meant nothing to him. the pleasure you were getting made you shed tears. sukuna scoffs at the sight, despite absolutely loving seeing you with wet glossy eyes. "such a crybaby... be grateful I haven't put both my cocks in you, ungrateful whore" he comments as his thrusts get sloppier but the second, his pants getting raspier. your moans grow in volume, you were so fucked out.

"f-fuck m' so close sukuna!!" you exclaim, as you feel your orgasm approaching, sukuna grunts as he chases his own orgasm along with you. he leans in, whispering in your ear "you like it when I pound into you hm? you're so cock thirsty for me aren't you?" he grunts, "y-yes! sukuna!" you mewl, the sound of slapping skin quickens as you both reach your orgasms. you both let out deep groans, sukuna fills you up with his cum, a string connecting his dick to your cunt as he pulls out. as you try to sit back up, a hand pushes you back down.

"who said I was done?"

[luveline]

an eddie/roan/reader request <3

roan loses a tooth and reader is freaking out asking if it hurt, if she’s okay, and roan is just excited bc that means the tooth fairy is gonna pat her a visit!!!

ty for your request ♡ eddie and roan. step mom!reader. 1.1k

Eddie's trying to prove to you that he can play Master of Puppets on the guitar, but it's been a long time since he was twenty. "Ah, fuck," he says, stumbling over another chord. "What the fuck. I thought muscle memory was supposed to remember things for me." 

"I think you need to prompt your muscles into remembering," you say, cross-legged on the armchair with a pint of vanilla ice cream in your lap. "Can you play my favourite again?" 

"Depends. What's in it for me?" 

"So much. I'll scratch your back all the way through Princess Polly tonight." 

He immediately sets his fingers against the first chord of your favourite song and begins to play. Your back scratching literally haunts him. He can be on a rolling board under a truck that stinks of dirt and old oil and he'll be dreaming of your fingernails and their gentle up and down, his face on your shoulder, in your neck, buried in your thigh, whichever way he lays down. A song for an hour of your touch is easy work. 

He suspects you like doing it as much as he likes getting it. You love taking care of him. You're good beyond words. 

Eddie watches you nod along to his playing happily, a spoon between your lips, a dot of melted cream on your chin, and he knows what he has to do. "I'd ask you to marry me if I hadn't already done it," he says. 

You cut into your ice cream with a delighted jaunt. "I'd say yes for sure. You can ask me again, if you like. After the song." 

"I'll ask you as many times as you want. I'll even throw in a free song—" 

The air rips apart with a signature Roan Munson scream, which is to say, it's impossible to tell if Roan is in immense pain or having the most fun of her life.

Eddie almost chokes putting down his guitar as you ditch your ice cream on the arm, half a second behind him as he races upstairs.

"What's wrong?" Eddie shouts as he goes. "What? What?" 

"Daddy!" she shouts as Eddie throws open her bedroom door, sitting on the heart-shaped rug beside her dollhouse. "Lookit!" 

You move his elbow aside to squeeze through the doorway. "Is that a tooth?" 

"It's my tooth!" 

"Oh my gosh, princess!" you yelp, kneeling down in the plush rug in front of her, your thumb on her pale chin. "You're bleeding! Aw, sweetheart, let me see."

Eddie blinks dazedly, bending down to take the tooth Roan offers. It's tiny and white with a hole at the bottom that's darker on the inside. He rolls it around in his palm. Is she really that age? he asks himself, looking unsurely between his hand and Roan where she beams on the floor. 

"There's blood on your dress, too," you say, fingers held delicately against her cheek. 

Eddie doesn't have ugly hands, but it's different to see you touch her. You're a sweet, careful woman when it comes to mothering, a soft touch through and through. "Can I see?" 

Roan tips her head back and opens her mouth. Clear as day is the gap in her pearly white teeth, a bottom tooth now gone. 

"What did you do?" Eddie asks knowingly. 

"Nothing! It felt wobbly so I just bit on my Prince Dylan until it felled out." 

"Baby," you murmur, wiping the bloody spit off of her lips, "you hurt yourself?" 

"It didn't hurt that much." 

"Maybe let's not force them, Ro. Teeth come out when they're ready. If you start pulling them out before they're ready you might have wonky ones. And you shouldn't hurt yourself," Eddie says, kneeling down next to you for the united front effect. 

Roan looks at least somewhat chastised. "Okay. I won't pull them out until they're ready. But now the fairy comes, right? The tooth fairy?" 

Eddie grins, endeared by his devious little monster. You curl your sleeve down to press the clean edge to her gum, a frown creasing your face. Roan winces and you flinch, tucking her hair behind her ears in apology. 

"Sorry, lovely girl." 

"It's fine!" she says, flashing her first gap-toothed smile. "Don't worry, mom, it's just a small ow." 

You soften at the name and drop your hand to hers. "Okay. I won't worry… you know your first tooth fairy and your last are the special ones, right?" 

You and Eddie take to whispering as the bath runs that night, a debate of the ages. You think losing your first tooth deserves a new bike, or at the very least a new custom princess dress from the boutique in Indianapolis. Eddie thinks it deserves a kiss and a crisp twenty dollar bill. 

Roan splashes suds at your socks and tells you to stop whispering so much. 

That night, after Eddie forfeits half of his back scratching time to let you cuddle Roan, he sneaks into Roan's room with twenty dollars and a note. 

"Can we take another picture?" you whisper from behind hjm. 

"I think the flash might wake her up," he whispers back, the two of you standing still at the foot of her bed. She's clutching Teddy to her chest, curls splayed over her pink pillow, one of her feet sticking out of the sheets. "The first picture was really cute, we'll be fine." 

Roan smiled to show off her gap with her small tooth held up to lense. Eddie's gonna get it printed and maybe framed. She looks like a kid in the clothes catalogues. 

Together, you and Eddie tiptoe to her pillow to retrieve the lost tooth and replace it with her boon. Inspired by her statue-like stillness, Eddie leans down to press a kiss into her hairline, trying hard not to wake her up. 

Roan affords him no such luxury in the morning. "Dad!" she shouts, straight into his ear canal. He chokes awake. "The tooth fairy said you'd buy me a scooter! Is that true?" 

"Only if you stop yelling," he whines, burying his head under the pillow. 

Roan climbs onto the bed and over his back. He groans as his back clicks, settles when you put a hand on his shoulders sympathetically. 

"Your fault," he says. You're the one who campaigned for a new scooter. 

"Sorry, handsome," you say. 

Eddie will feel much more forgiving in a couple of hours. 

[ariseur]

So excited to see a new DMC writer on Tumblr 🎉🎉 could I request just some domestic headcanons with Dante?

domestic dante hc’s 𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪

dante (devil may cry) x reader

┊ ˚➶ notes ｡˚ 🎼

thank you for this req!! saw the lack of dmc fics and decided to just make some myself lol. hope you guys enjoy my stuff 💕

┊ ˚➶ warnings ｡˚ 🎼

few curse words? just lots of fluff mainly

. ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ . ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ . ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ . ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄

❥ oh my gosh please take care of DANTE because he honestly neglects himself and his place

❥ whatever you do, don’t imagine you and dante doing dishes—an activity he absolutely hates—while you tell him all the gossip you find out

❥ he simply gasps and ‘ooh’s at everything, mouth occasionally dropping open at certain scandals

❥ he’s literally the perfect person to gossip with

❥ whatever you do, don’t imagine running your hands through dante’s hair as you lather the shampoo, the suds tinted a dark red and brown from all the blood and grime of his job as he throws his head back with a groan

❥ whatever you do, DON’T imagine dante placing his hands on your waist as he tugs you closer to him, feet coming down from their resting spot on the desk so you could stand between his legs as he looks up at you with gazing blue eyes

❥ i am feral oh my goodness

❥ and definitely don’t imagine tending to the bruises and scrapes that he comes home with

❥ even though dante’s body perfectly capable of healing itself, he loves when you baby him

❥ because he’s at work a lot or is tryna pay off his bills, he loves just coming home and spending time with you when he can

❥ honestly collapses on the couch (or bed, whichever’s closer) and encourages you to join, face still buried in the pillow as he beckons you over with an open hand

❥ if you wear makeup and fall asleep with it on, dante will try his best to clean it off for you

❥ except he’s like.. rlly bad at it lmfao

❥ but the thoughts there!! he’s trying his best 💔💔

❥ the type of guy to call you the cheesiest nicknames tho

❥ like.. babycakes? really 😭?

❥ also gives light swats at your ass if you bend over, i’m sorry but it’s true

❥ likes touching you with at least some part of his body, if you sleep then your legs gotta lock or if you’re on the couch his arms around you

❥ but good luck because this man is a FURNACE

❥ if you have anemia / low iron or like any other condition where you can get pretty cold, this man is your lifeline

❥ read a fic about dante carrying like tons of bags after he spoiled you and went shopping with you despite not even having money to pay bills at the devil may cry and let me just say i am an avid believer of that as well

❥ you’ll literally be walking away from a cute necklace or pair of shoes and then you turn around and think wheres dante?

❥ then you just see him hauling ass towards you as he tries to keep up with all the bags he has in his hands while you spot the small rectangular velvet box in his hands

❥ ugh

❥ i wont him

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈ ｡ﾟ

DANTE watched as soft snores fell from your parted lips, hair splayed out below you crazily. he knew those would be a bitch to comb out later, but he couldn’t focus on anything else on the fact that the sunlight was hitting you just right, your skin coated in a deep gold as it reflected off your body.

you could’ve told dante you were an angel, and he would’ve believed you in a heartbeat. he’ll admit, he was a sucker for moments like these. even if seemed odd in retrospect, he just enjoyed seeing you so serene.

his eyes flickered around the room, trying to find a way to occupy his brain without waking you up before they finally fell on the black plastic remote that lay under your head.

dante’s hand slowly inched over, fingers almost tip-toeing their way over to you as he touched the remote. he was careful to pull it from under you, tugging it very slightly despite the weight of your head resting on it.

you stirred, making dante’s eyes widen as he paused his movements and bit his lip, even making a point so as to hold his breath. you licked your lips, dry from sleep as your head turned over to the other side of the pillow, sighing as you felt the coolness beneath your face.

dante exhaled in relief, before grabbing the remote and turning the tv off as he made sure to turn the volume down so you wouldn’t awake. even if a few minutes later you did anyways.

your eyelashes fluttered open as you caught dante muttering something at the tv, his eyes glued to some crappy reality tv show as they cut to an interview of a girl on the show. he scowled when he saw her, to which you softly laughed, tone gravelly from the thick coat of sleep still layering your voice. dante turned his head, pushing a strand of hair behind your ear as he softly shushed you and coaxed you to go back to sleep.

“‘s alright, just go back to sleep baby.”

“can’t really go back to sleep when you’re shit-talking the contestants, dante.” you smiled at him as he admired you, gazing down upon you as you stretched your limbs and rubbed the sleep away from your eyes, attention turning to the tv.

“what season is this?” you asked. dante’s hand never left your hair as his hands ran through it, careful not to snag on any tangles before responding with a quiet, “three.”

and in that moment when you looked back at him, eyes filled to the brim with nothing but adoration, he could’ve sworn his heart had stopped. dante felt as if the sun favored you, because every time you stepped in it, somehow you looked absolutely ethereal.

yeah, dante thought, he liked these small moments you two shared.

myvampyrez™

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ this is my only account. there should be no works similar or identical to mine under any name on any other website. i am not on wattpad or ao3 or anywhere else, only tumblr. i do not give permission for my work to be plagiarized, translated, or shared anywhere else unless it is reblogged here on tumblr.

[strawnarrries]

Niall fluff PLS

dad niall pulling out his dad skills on his wife

Squeezing the water out of your hair, you swung open the glass door and stepped out of the shower, onto the soft, white rug in front of the door. You grabbed your towel on the hook against the wall and wrapped it around your shoulders. Your husband stood in front of his sink on his side of the bathroom counter, washing his face. You looked up at him once you heard his thick, Irish accent echoing throughout the bathroom.

“Baby, why are ya bleedin’?” he asked frantically, ignoring the foamy face wash dripping down his neck.

You looked down at where he was staring and saw a small cut just below your kneecap, blood pooling at the opening and leisurely trickling down your leg, reminding you of your mistake a few minutes ago, “Oh, I accidentally cut myself with my razor.”

“Ya got yourself good didntcha?” he asked before preceding to aggressively rub the soap into his face.

“Yeah, it hurt so bad,” you replied while drying off your body, avoiding wiping the blood on the towel.

“Gimme a sec and I'll help ya” he hummed before splashing his face with water, washing away the soap.

"I'm okay," you giggled at him, heart swelling at how sweet he was to you.

While you squeezed the water out of your hair with the towel before wrapping it around your body, Niall patted his face dry with a washcloth before bending down and grabbing a bandaid out from the bottom drawer.

"Niall, I don't need a bandaid, it's just a little cut," you protested but he didn't listen. It was like he never heard you in the first place.

After grabbing a tissue, he walked over to you, crouched down, and was now face-to-face with your wound.

"Niall," you giggled at him, looking down at watching him.

"My poor baby," he pouted, pressing a sweet kiss to your kneecap.

He wiped away the blood with a tissue before quickly sticking the bandaid against your cut. He pressed a kiss over the bandaid before standing back up with a popping sound from his knees and throwing away the wrappers.

"All better. I even kissed your boo-boo," he grinned, wrapping his arms around your waist covered by the damp towel.

"You're so dramatic," you giggled at him.

He gave you a peck on the lips before replying, "Am not. My girl is crippled. Can't walk now, can she?"

He knew you were right, but he just liked seeing you grin.

"C'mere, baby girl," he grunted, picking you up bridal style, "I've gotcha."

"Becoming a dad to a toddler has got you all babyie," you giggled.

"That's not a word," he replied with a chuckle.

He walked into your shared bedroom, gently setting you down on your bed while you squealed, "Niall, I'm not even dressed yet, I'm still wet."

"Two of my favorite versions of you," he smirked, punching his eyebrows up at you, "Naked and wet."

"Oh my gosh, stop," you giggled, immediately getting off of the bed, "You're gonna get my side of the bed wet and then I'm gonna have to sleep in the guest bedroom."

"Look whose bein' dramatic now," he teased.

"You don't get me naked or wet now!" you teased back before storming back into the bathroom.

"Wha-Y/N, c'mon!"

You couldn't help but giggle.

~

i cant figure out if i think this idea is cringy or cute lol lmk what you all think

[dreaming-of-mossballs]

All of this, for a phonograph? - (Gepard x florist!reader)

Summary: After having an odd dream and unexpectedly getting a promotion, you head down to the Underworld in some weird journey of self-discovery that ends up in a whole lot of chaos.

▸ Genre(s): fluff, angst

▸ Word Count: 16.6k

▸ Tags: Gepard x reader

▸ Warnings: food mentions, violence, mentions of blood, crying, emetephobia tw, having to wake up early,

A/N: IM SO FUCKINGN TIRED.

I was not expecting to surpass my word count record. Anyways, sorry for the initial jankyness. I don’t write in present tense often

MOSSBALL MASTERLIST (psst more gepard here)

Sitting at a desk in front of a window, accompanied by a stained brass lamp and an old family photo you were certain had been lost (during the evacuation of Rivet Town), you watched the people of Belobog mill about the Alexandra Plaza beneath the setting sun.

You smile softly to yourself, laying your tired fountain pen to rest beside a variety of parchments that contained pictures of flowers you had never seen, and writing that didn’t quite make sense.

Something tugs at the corners of your mind to make you rise from your seat and tiptoe down the hallway towards the kitchen.

It was your kitchen, presumably.

The mahogany floorboards creaked softly in protest, but they were covered by the sound of the familiar sound of music coming from the phonograph you’d had as a child. It got louder the closer you got to the end of the hallway.

How you missed those old songs. You used to sit by the fireplace with a warm cup of milk, listening to the music while the flames flickered at you.

From the kitchen, golden light peeps through the doorway at you. Warm and comforting, it drips over the paintings and vases decorating the hallway.

It was so strange. This place felt like home, yet you had never seen it before in your entire life.

As you push open the door, your heart leaps and lodges itself directly in your throat.

Oh. It’s Gepard, you think, surprised.

He stands in front of the kitchen sink, a bright blue apron adorning his waist and shoulders, with dishwashing gloves to match. Bubbles from the soapy water floated around him while he worked, and then sank to the tile floor, where they disappeared with a few soft pops.

The oven light illuminated something resting on the top rack. You lick your lips; it was always a joy whenever Gepard decided to cook.

“Ah, good evening, honey,” Gepard says, discarding his gloves and resting them on the counter. “Are you finished for the day?”

Honey?

Something about that struck an odd note.

“Yep! All done,” you say, not quite knowing what you’re talking about. “I can rest easy now. Thanks for taking care of the dishes,”

You smile and bound over to his side in your slippers.

“I’m happy to hear that. The pie is almost done, are you feeling hungry at all?” He asks. He unties his apron, (which, you might add, looks very good on him) and pulls two plates out of the cupboard. You have two of everything, from spoons to mugs. It makes your heart flutter like a herd of butterflies.

“Um… gosh, this was unexpected. But pie sounds great!” You reply while bending down to peer through the oven door. Its crust was a wonderful golden color, just like the sun. “What kind is it?”

“Apple,” Gepard replies. He sidles up next to you until your shoulders are touching. You had a decent view of the hair on the back of his neck from here, which was slightly darker than the hair on top of his head. Definitely cute, you think.

The captain smiles gently at you, almost puppy-esque in the way his eyes search yours for approval. He tilts his head downward and—

Wait a moment. Why was he so close? What was going on?

—to slowly and tenderly place a kiss on your cheek.

Your heart threatens to reach escape velocity.

Whoa there, scooter. Keep it cool, now, you scold yourself.

“You’re always so generous,” you compliment, cupping his cheeks with your hands. You shut your eyes, and this time, kiss him gently on the lips. It felt so right, the way you combed your fingers through his hair and how you knew exactly what to do.

Gepard’s cheeks burn pink as you pull away. The color contrasted his blue eyes, which resembled rich, deep sapphires with icy blue highlights at the bottom. You stared at them dreamily, when suddenly a strange ringing invaded your eardrums.

Oh, that must be the pie.

You pulled some oven mitts that were the size of cookie sheets out of your pockets and turned back to the oven— which had, for some reason, been very curiously turned into a washing machine.

You whip around again, and this time your husband(?) is dressed in full military regalia. Gepard takes a few steps back and throws himself out of the open kitchen window, saluting you as he goes.

You were certain you lived in a two-story building.

And oh, the ringing. It was getting increasingly louder. You clamp your hands over your ears indignantly while scanning the room for the source of the noise.

Can we not do this right now? You thought. I just wanted some pie,

Gravity seemed to be playing tricks on you as the fog began to lift, pulling you out of your deep sleep.

You blinked. The strange building had been replaced by the wooden ceiling of the Eversummer Florist you were used to.

Phonograph… I need to get my phonograph so Gepard and I can—,

Groaning, you limply smacked the phone on your bedside table with your arm and turned to tuck the blankets back under your chin. But the damn thing rang again as if to mock you.

Huh. I don’t remember setting two alarms, you thought. You clicked your tongue on the top of your mouth, cringing at the dreaded taste of morning breath as you sat up slowly.

You picked up the phone, hazily coming to the realization that it wasn’t yours. The alarm’s label was titled, “surprise,” which was ironic, considering it was quite the unpleasant one. A picture of Artem, from the hit novel, Tale of the Winterlands, was set as the lock screen.

There was no other person whom it could belong to.

The old wooden door to your dorm swung open, slamming into your armoire, which you were grateful was already chipped at that point. The sounds of streamers and confetti poppers blasted through whatever peace of mind you previously had, and a group of people, all wearing green berets, invaded your room. They were waving party wands around like it was the last day on Jarilo-VI.

Speaking of Vaska, she was busy pushing her way through the gaggle of people. She squeezed her body out of the fray to stand right over you, her green eyes staring straight at you unblinkingly, like some sort of lizard.

“Congratulations, (Y/N)! You’ve been promoted!” She cheered at you through cupped hands. Before you had realized it, you’d shot out of bed in surprise, flinging your covers everywhere.

“What? Really??” You asked, your jaw agape. You were still in your pajamas, but you were far beyond the fear of being seen in them.

“That’s right,” Meg, your boss, remarked. She was strict, but rather kind. “You’re now the general manager of the Eversummer Florist!”

She did have some odd ways of celebrating, though.

“Unless… you’d like to turn it down, of course,” she teased with a shrug.

“WAIT—! No, there’s no need. I would like the promotion, please,” you blurted. Vaska chuckled as she watched you scramble to put on your slippers,

Meg planted her hands on her hips sassily. “As I thought. Now, can you give everyone a thank you for giving you such a lovely surprise?”

“Thank you, everyone,” you gave them a toothy grin. A few whoops and cheers erupted from the back of the crowd.

“There’s a cupcake for you downstairs,” your boss added. “Pick it up whenever you like. Anyway, have a nice day off, kiddo. You deserve it more than anyone,”

“Aww, thank you so much!” You exclaimed. A cupcake sounded wonderful.

Meg tuned right around and whisked herself out of the door from whence she came. Everyone else followed suit in a single file line, like a group of ducklings. That made you chuckle.

You opened the blinds and peered outside. Icicles coated the power lines and hung from the roofs of houses, announcing the upcoming Solwarm Festival with their appearance. Meg probably had an ulterior motive, seeing as Belobog hadn’t held a Solwarm Festival in years— and Vaska had a particular penchant to break down under pressure. She could probably use another person to help ensure the festivities went smoothly.

You scoffed confidently at the challenge. With you and Vaska on the job, there was nothing on Jarilo-VI that could take you down. It would be a good way to show off your newfound skill at the job as well.

But as you stood there, woozy from the forceful wake-up and experiencing the overwhelming need to pee, your brow furrowed.

What exactly do I want to do from now on?

The question came hurtling entirely out of the Snow Plains, punching you right in the nose.

Yes, you had moved to the surface and become some sort of flower tycoon. And you were as sure as you could be that you liked your job. Plus, you had even gotten a promotion. To the position of general manager, of all things!

But had you really put any thought into what your future might be? You had been given the opportunity to move to the surface by the ADCS (or Administrative District Civil Service), and you had taken it.

After a year of living here, you now had a few more things to consider. Did you want to move back home? Surely not after getting a promotion. Your boss would kill you.

Additionally, you weren’t necessarily homesick. Life in the mines was largely nomadic. Where employment was, you would follow. You didn’t miss the hacking cough you’d develop during the winter from the rock dust building up in your lungs.

Friends didn’t stay too long either. You all had to eat in some way or another, and work wasn’t always guaranteed for people who traveled together.

Maybe you could help expand the flower business? Or even get an apartment of your own? Perhaps officially studying mechanical engineering might be the way to go…

All these thoughts made your brain feel like it was going to split. You sighed, plopping back down on your bed before you remembered Meg had given you a pile of flyers to hand out two days prior. They advertised the Solwarm Festival and its details, a good source of information for anyone who wasn’t privileged enough to have experienced the festivities.

You had meant to give one to Natasha, since you weren’t sure how well news travelled from one floor to another. Plus, since Rivet Town was mostly safe again, you could probably pick up your phonograph from your old home.

Rats, you thought. So much for my day off.

•┈••✦ ❆ ✦••┈•

The streets and buildings of Belobog’s Administrative District had a light dusting of snow on them, much akin to the powdered sugar they put on the pastries they sold at the local café.

Alexandra Plaza was certainly filled with things to do, including, but not limited to visiting the Neverwinter Workshop, seeing a play at the Golden Theatre, and taking a tour of the Belobog History and Culture Museum. It was nothing short of incredible. Of course, there were a fair amount of activities in the underworld too; they would just be considered less than legal to the people up here.

You munched on your cupcake as you meandered your way to the rail car, the one specifically tasked with bringing denizens of Belobog from one level to another as thoughts flowed through your head. They’d fly in like birds, then disappear without a trace, so you had no time to dwell on them. Ones about your future, your old home, and the expectations you had for yourself.

What is it that I want, exactly?

You weren’t quite sure. You shuddered. That dream earlier had really shaken you up.

They say people dream about what they want the most, you wondered. But was it realistic in the slightest? You didn’t think so at all.

A cloud of frosty air rose in front of your face as you let out a heavy sigh. As you were reaching the ticket gate, you rounded a corner and nearly knocked heads with an older woman. She wore a maroon leather jacket trimmed with brown mink fur that brought attention to the hood and sleeves.

She glared daggers at you, pulling her tote close to herself and mumbling something about “soot-dwellers.” Meanwhile, you did everything in your power not to let your eyes roll out of your sockets.

Straightening your back, you hopped onto the rail car, leaving the Overworld and your worries behind you.

•┈••✦ ❆ ✦••┈•

As the rickety screeches of the elevator subsided, you felt like you were on cloud nine.

The underground was as familiar as the back of your hand. Although you’d spent a fair bit of your years as a vagrant in the mines, Boulder Town had an air of nostalgia to it as well. The miners used to gather there for a meal and a drink after a long day’s work (although it was mostly for a drink, if your memory served you correctly).

Soot and iron flooded your nostrils in waves as you walked around the northeast corner of town. The faraway shouts of the Fight Club arena, along with the hearty laughter from the miners in the tunnels, could be heard.

And how you missed this feeling! The sighs, the smells, the feeling of belonging. It all brought memories flooding through your brain. You missed singing and dancing around a campfire with other workers— arms around each other’s shoulders, mugs of bread soda in hand— while also competing to balance as many items as you could on Peak, the lazy miner (the record was 17).

A common saying from the old folks was that Geomarrow could make your blood run hot. And honestly, you believed them. One glance around the city hammered in the impression of hot-blooded community you felt. Geomarrow was the lifeblood of Belobog, and you were proud to be a part of it every step of the way.

Surface-dwellers could never understand it, you thought to yourself smugly. But you would never say that aloud.

You blended in seamlessly here, no mannerism you’d learned as a child going forgotten. You fell back into your usual swaggering gait, patting the backs of every old friend you came across. There was Seele, arguing with some poor member of Wildfire right next to the grocery stand; Hook, who was running at full speed alongside two other children, and you could’ve sworn you spotted a flash of someone with dark blue hair and green eyes before they vanished into a dark alleyway.

Old neighbors and colleagues greeted you, which made you smile. In the Underworld, there were no formal titles that you had to remember. Nobility? Never heard of it. If you were self-made down here, it was no joke.

Speaking of self-made, Miss Natasha was the real deal.

After nailing a good amount of posters to the walls, you dusted the soot off of your hands and headed towards the local clinic. The shopkeeper’s bell rang as you entered.

“Hi there, Miss Natasha!” You waved, the fliers pressed tightly to your chest.

The clinician smiled gently at you. “My, my. It’s been a while, (Y/N). How’s life been treating you?”

She stood front and center of the small, cramped room. Only a few cots were occupied; your favorite one next to the Geomarrow heater seemed to beckon you to come and have a seat.

“Quite well, as a matter of fact,” you chirped. “How about you? It looks pretty empty in here… although I guess that’s a good thing,”

Natasha chuckled softly. “I’ve been healthy, thank you kindly. One of the miners actually had a baby last week,” she placed down the vial she had been holding onto a nearby table.

“That’s wonderful!” You responded, clasping your hands together. “Is it a boy or a girl?”

One of the flyers slipped out of your arms and floated slowly to the concrete floor.

“Shoot. Actually, I came down here to give you this,” you said, sheepish about your faulty attention span. You handed her a flier, which had an illustration of a bright orange Solarflower bouquet.

Natasha let out a gasp and placed a hand in front of her mouth. “My goodness. They haven’t held a Solwarm Festival in many years. I didn’t think there would be one ever again,” she beamed at you. “I would be honored to attend, (Y/N),”

You bounced happily on the balls of your feet. Somewhere in the background, the shopkeeper’s bell rang, but the noise was quickly submerged by your other thoughts.

“I’m so glad!” You jabbered on and on. “Make sure to stop by the florist’s for some free suncakes. We partnered with a local bakery this year, so hopefully we can draw in lots of business. And—,”

Natasha’s red eyes flickered towards the clinic entrance behind you for a split second, which made you pause and turn your head slightly. And oh boy, were you glad you did.

Because standing in front of the clinic door was none other than Captain Gepard of the Silvermane Guards, surrounded on both sides by armored soldiers.

The captain locked eyes with you for a moment before you decided the Geomarrow heater in the corner of the room was the most interesting thing you’d ever seen in your life.

Gepard’s eyebrow raised at you quizzically.

“Miss Natasha,” said Gepard. “The Fragmentum monsters in the southernmost part of Rivet Town have been taken care of. Is there anything else you’d like us to attend to?”

He shot another glance at you. There you stood— hands behind your back while bouncing from one foot to the other— decidedly not looking at him. You prayed to Qlipoth he couldn’t feel the heat radiating off your cheeks from his position.

It felt decidedly strange running into him like this. You stood on one side of the room in front of a few raggedy cots, and he stood on the other, soldiers ready to back him up at a moment’s notice less than a foot behind him.

Just like the day you came to the overworld, you felt completely out of place.

Natasha pressed her hands together with a pleased expression. “Wonderful! I believe you’re all set to go for today. Thank you all for your service,”

Her smile practically lit up the room. Gepard nodded. “It’s the least we could do, Miss Natasha,”

You took the opportunity to take a small sidestep towards a rack of scrubs to hide behind.

Natasha, almost certainly sensing your jackhammering heartbeat, turned towards you, effectively gluing you to where you stood.

Shoot! She’s like an apex predator,

“So… Captain. Have you met (Y/N)?” She inquired casually. “They were one of my biggest helpers back in the day, in fact,”

You jumped in, a hint of nervousness present in your voice. “Yes, yes. We’ve met before. We’re well acquainted— and um, friends, I guess?”

You muttered a quiet, halfhearted “yeah” under your breath. You couldn’t see the soldiers’ eyes under their metal visors, but you could guarantee they were eyeing you with major secondhand embarrassment. They probably had no idea you two knew each other. Or maybe they thought that some weirdo from the underground was cozying up to their captain. Decidedly awkward, you thought.

One of them let out a raspy cough, which brought you back to your senses.

“It’s really best I get going,” you told your old caretaker. “I have to pick up an old family heirloom at my old place. Nice seeing you, Gepard,”

You smiled as best you could, but to Gepard, it appeared as if it were made of ice. Compared to how much you usually talked, the room felt frigid in the absence of your chatter.

The captain wondered what the reason could be for such visible uneasiness. But he forced himself to keep his lips shut. Now was not the time.

Natasha gave you a reassuring pat on the back as you floundered around in your head. Better to let the youngsters sort themselves out, she thought. It was about time you learned, anyway.

“Oh, before I forget,” Natasha added. “Be sure to take care around that area, dear. You may need clearance to enter. Maybe you should bring someone along with you?”

“Right, sounds good,” you replied, glossing over the last half of what she had said. You wanted to get out of there as soon as humanly possible. But Gepard’s incredible generosity could not be thwarted.

“Perhaps us guards could come with?” He offered.

You punched yourself mentally at not hightailing it out of there earlier.

“I’m sure its fine. There’s really no need to trouble yourselves—,” you said, waving your arms about.

Gepard didn’t falter in the slightest. “The leader of Wildfire herself said it may be dangerous, and it is imperative to us that the safety of Belobog’s citizens is ensured. We’d like to help if we can,”

Ouch. He was right on the money. Natasha’s powers of suggestion were seriously unmatched. The instructions her smile hid were very, very thinly veiled.

Your shoulders fell as you deflated. “Okay, fine,”

Gepard dipped his head, and all the Silvermane Guards tapped the butt ends of their halberds on the floor in unison, causing the ceiling to shake. A ceramic vase tipped over, causing the flower inside to meet its unfortunate end. You looked at it mournfully.

“Wait—,” you paused. “How many of you are coming, exactly?”

“As many as you need,” Gepard replied, tapping his fist to his chest.

You felt a wave of panic rising in your throat at the horrifying vision of being surrounded and jostled around by an entire squad of soldiers. “Oh, there’s no need for you all to come. Just one or two is fine, thank you,”

You imagined your old neighbors peering out their windows at you and gasping at the notion that you had been arrested.

“…you know what? Maybe just one is fine,”

“Understood,” said the captain. “You four may go back to your posts. I’ll accompany (Y/N) to Rivet Town,”

You cursed the goddess of fortune for choosing this exact moment to smite you.

Normally you’d be happy to see him, but all of these soldiers standing around were giving you a major freak-out. To make matters even more stressful, each of these people directly served the Supreme Guardian.

Of all people to have a gigantic crush on, why’d it have to be one of Belobog’s most incredible and amazing people?? You sighed. Why couldn’t you have fallen for that weird guy who stood by the Everwinter Monument every day? He was waaay closer to your league.

You gave Gepard a queasy thumbs-up.

•┈••✦ ❆ ✦••┈•

Humming an old mining song was the only thing keeping you distracted from Gepard’s shining presence beside you.

Now that the other guards were gone, it should be alright, you thought. But you couldn’t bring yourself to start a conversation for some reason.

Easy now, (Y/N). Yes, the object of your unrequited love is walking right next to you. But it could be worse. It could be an automaton Direwolf!

So why was it so damn hard to talk all of a sudden??

He didn’t look like a Direwolf, even though he was as tall as one, you thought. You narrowed your eyes at him as you walked to double check.

Gepard glanced down at you with a questioning “hm” that almost made you keel over.

Curses. This was overwhelming.

Additionally, your original hypothesis was proven correct a few months ago. Gepard was a big softie at heart. He’d even get down in the dumps when his flowers would inevitably die (which hadn’t happened recently, thanks to you.)

You wondered if he ever worried about other people’s opinions. He was so kind and considerate, it pained you to imagine him getting the brunt of public backlash as such an influential figure.

Knowing him, he probably didn’t. But if he did, he would likely hide it to avoid burdening others. He wasn’t exactly the type to expose his soft underbelly, after all.

You hoped that if anything came up, he’d consider reaching out to you. The man who was Belobog’s iron defense always went above and beyond for the people. But he ought to have someone looking out for him, too.

Scoffing at yourself, you shook your head. Gepard really brought out a slew of worries in you. You did your best to swallow down the lump in your throat when suddenly, you were hit with the nostalgic smell of your old favorite food cart.

Was that grilled olm?? Your mind kicked into high gear. Your stomach let out a loud growl as if to protest the fact that you’d only had a cupcake for breakfast.

You turned to your companion with a pleading look in your eyes. “Oh man, I’m starving. Gepard, would you mind if I made a stop for some grub real quick? I promise it won’t be long!”

“Not at all,” he responded. Without a second to waste, you took off running towards the corner of town where all the food stalls were gathered.

Gepard looked from afar with a pensive look on his face. You’d always held a sort of confidence in the way you walked, but here, in your second hometown, you flitted from stall to stall with an aura of familiarity he had never seen before. You had no problem dodging obstacles that cropped up from nowhere; Gepard, however, felt like his limbs were made of wood as he tried in vain to catch up to you. His eyes had widened hilariously as he stepped into a pothole and his arms went flying in the air.

“Oh my gosh,” you exclaimed while offering your arm out to him for balance. You bit back a laugh at his flushed cheeks. “Would you want to sit down while I wait in line?”

He accepted your offer graciously, and took a seat at one of the low-seated tables by a chain link fence.

You gawked as you watched the Silvermane Guard Captain willingly plant himself at a kiddie table. Gepard could barely fit his knees under it, making him stick out like a giant rock crab.

But you were rudely jostled from your thoughts, as just when you were about to order, two men shouldered right in front of you. You recognized the red leather jackets they wore, symbolizing they were fight club combatants.

Ugh. Scott’s boys. Many knew all too well about his unsavory business practices. Some got involved because they had no choice. Others joined because they wanted the power. You had stayed far away from the institution, preferring to run with a more respectable crowd.

One of the men had chopped brown hair and messy stubble, while the other had blonde hair cut in a mullet. Although you couldn’t tell he was blonde at first, because almost every strand was coated in coal dust. You pinched your nose shut at the smell of motor oil and grease.

They were busy chatting up the vendor with no hint of shame at what they’d done. Your eyes narrowed as you saw one of them shoot a glance at you out of the side of his eye.

They knew damn well what they’d done.

You weren’t going to take this shit from a couple of Luka wannabes, you decided.

Before the brown-haired man could finish ordering, you rapped him on the shoulder harshly. He paused for a short moment to turn his head towards you.

“Excuse me,” you said with a hint of disdain. “I couldn’t help but notice you happened to jump the line,”

The man turned without so much as a grunt of acknowledgment. “…and a plate of Belobog sausages with extra sauerkraut—,”

Your eye twitched.

“Hey, you,” you interjected, tapping him again. “The line starts back there. Have you considered getting your eyes tested?”

“It’s just food, love,” he replied. The man paused for a second to spit a glob on the ground next to your shoe. Your lip curled in disgust.

“I see your mother never taught you manners,” you hissed.

The people behind you were starting to murmur.

You clenched your fist at your side as you stared him down, but before you could break his nose, you remembered that Gepard was still sitting by himself at the kiddie table.

You sighed. It probably wasn’t the best idea to get into a fight in front of a refined young noble such as himself. He might have a heart attack.

Unfortunately, the brown-haired man wasn’t finished with you. He grabbed your coat collar and yanked you towards him as his companion snickered. You could make out every scar and every bead of sweat on his face.

Sheesh. Overkill, if you ask me.

“Look man, I’m sorry, okay?” You scowled. “Cut in line all you want. You’re the big man. Happy now?”

Okay, you had to admit that wasn’t the best apology in the world. But you would’ve vomited had you made it any nicer.

He snorted, reaching a calloused hand towards your messenger bag. “Yeah? Well, I oughta teach you not to—,”

You scraped the front of his shins as hard as you could with the inside of your steel-toed utility boots.

The man roared like a wounded bear and released your collar, enabling you the opportunity to push yourself away. As he fought through the haze of pain, he readied his stance to fling himself at you, when Gepard’s metal gauntlet pushed against his chest, stopping him in his tracks.

“Do we have a problem here?” Your companion asked.

His blue eyes narrowed threateningly at the man, who was currently fighting Gepard’s iron grip. If the captain had let go at that moment, he would have absolutely torn you to shreds.

Murmurs began to erupt from the crowd, such as, “Why is the captain here?” And “serves him right,”

The man snarled again, frothing at the lips. This time, he went for Gepard, wrapping both hands around his throat. You witnessed his expression contort in surprise, and your hackles raised higher than they ever had.

Thinking on your feet, you grabbed the nearest plate of food— which happened to be Frostweave Salmon with cocktail sauce— and threw a large fillet at the man. It hit him square in the face, temporarily stunning him. Sure, it wasn’t a taser, but it was the best you could do.

His blonde-haired companion, having a better sense of self preservation than he did, yanked him backward and away from Gepard. One downward glance at his plethora of medals told him all he needed to know. He signaled at his friend to retreat for the time being, and they slunk away, shooting glares full of venom at you as they went.

You snuck a peek at the vendor, who was currently cowering behind the condiment station. She motioned to you with her hand:

Just go.

Slipping a few shields on the counter for the trouble, you sped off towards Rivet Town once more.

•┈••✦ ❆ ✦••┈•

“Want one?” You asked Gepard. You held up a limp fillet about 20cm away from his face.

“No, but thank you for the offer,” he declined politely. Your cheeks were still flushed with heat from the subsiding chaos.

“I appreciate your help, by the way,”

“Think nothing of it,” he said, in usual Gepard fashion. The captain’s forward gaze didn’t waver in the slightest.

You soon reached the Rivet Town checkpoint run by two automaton hounds and a few vagrants with shovels. After quickly looking over your papers, they allowed you to enter the premises.

Ever since the disaster, the town had remained eerily silent. Even though it was safe, the only noise you could pick up was your own footsteps. You were so used to the background noise of gears grinding and metal squealing loudly, that the fact that you could hear your own breathing made a chill creep up your spine.

The creepy ambience aside, the salmon was awfully bland, you thought, while munching solemnly. The texture was that of something that had been frozen and thawed multiple times. You were disappointed the quality had dipped so low since you’d left.

“(Y/N), are you feeling alright?” Gepard’s voice rang out of the blue.

You nearly choked on a chunk of fish. “What? No, why?”

He looked at you with horror in his eyes. Realizing your mistake, you jumped in faster than you could say “chicken and mushroom skewer.”

“YES. I mean, yes! I’m okay, why do you ask?” You crammed the rest of the salmon in your mouth and tossed the empty plate in the nearest dumpster.

“Please excuse me for being intrusive, but you’re usually… a bit more talkative, perhaps?” Gepard said, scratching his chin. He had an instinctive desire to rest a hand on your shoulder, but you seemed farther away from him than usual, both physically and emotionally.

“I guess I do, huh?” You let out a nervous chuckle. “I’m okay, just a little tired, I guess. Thanks for worrying, though,”

Gepard’s eyebrows furrowed ever so slightly, but he didn’t want to intrude.

Meanwhile, you lamented at your emotional communication skills rivaling that of a five-year-old’s. You’d better pick up the slack before he started to suspect something.

As you continued on your not-so-leisurely stroll, you came across an open clearing, with nothing but a single food cart in the middle. It seemed to be fully operational, with steam still rising from the griddles.

The sight completely baffled Gepard.

“What reason would a food cart have to be all the way out here?” He asked.

“Oh, that?” You said, turning to look at the cart. The sight would’ve appeared completely eerie to a normal person; the cart had no wheels, and yet there weren’t any visible marks indicating it had been dragged from somewhere. “That’s Belobog Burritos, of course!”

“Belobog… Burritos?” He wondered aloud.

“Yep. It’s a food stall that’s kind of an urban legend. Been here as long as I can remember,” you shrugged. “It sits there every day, no owner or anything, but there’s always freshly made food. Even when the town went under, it was still up and running,”

You waved your hands in his face in a vague gesture that he assumed was supposed to be spooky. His irises made a concentrated effort to follow your every motion.

“…or so I’ve heard,” you continued. “Apparently, if you get something from the stall, you have to pay in full or some seriously bad stuff starts happening to you,”

Gepard cast a stiff look back at the cart, feeling his blood run as cold as ice. He suppressed a shudder and continued walking. But the thought kept weighing on his mind as he walked. He felt as if there was a lump in his throat, preventing him from breathing in all the way.

Jeez, he looks pretty shaken up, you thought as you stole a glance at him after a few minutes. His face was a few shades paler than it had been previously, and his neck was all stiff. It looked like he was trying his best to not be scared (and failing miserably).

Maybe you could hold his hand to make it less scary, a part of you whispered slyly.

You beat that internal voice with a sledgehammer as soon as it surfaced.

I guess I’ll check if he’s okay,

You tried to lay a hand on his deltoid, but completely missed and firmly patted his lower back— which was much more intimate a gesture than you’d attempted. Gepard’s shoulders flew upwards in a flash as he curled them in towards his chest, and his eyes blew wide open.

“Gyeep!” He let out a strangled shriek through clenched teeth.

Your jaw fell open.

“Oh, shit!” you stammered. “I didn’t mean to— I mean, are you alright?”

His armor rattled with how heavily he was breathing as beads of sweat formed on his forehead. Sheesh, you had never seen him this shaken before.

Gepard’s face burned like a furnace. “I’m perfectly fine. Just ill at ease,” he said, pulling a handkerchief out of his coat pocket and dabbing at his forehead with it.

That didn’t do much to convince you that bringing him had been the right idea. You sighed. Gepard really was too kind for his own good.

Holding out your elbow at a right angle, you made a small offer to reassure him.

“Want to hold on to me until we get there?” You asked. “It’s okay if you’re scared, you know,”

You glanced around at the old, ruined buildings, which were surrounded by barbed wire and rubble. The whole area felt hostile, even to you.

“I don’t blame you, honestly. This place is pretty freaky,” you said with a short laugh.

“Okay,” Gepard paused. “If it’s alright with you,”

You smiled warmly at him. “Go ahead,”

He raised his arm and gingerly placed a hand on your bicep, curling his fingers slightly around it for a better grip.

“There! You have nothing to fear now,” you said reassuringly. Gepard blushed. He wanted nothing more than to beat himself up for falling apart in front of you in such an uncouth manner.

You continued walking towards your destination; this time, his heartbeat felt a bit more relaxed with you at his side.

After a short while, the ruined structure of your old home appeared looming from the dark. As a monument to the destruction, the skeletal building almost seemed to reach towards the false sky above.

“Quaint, isn’t it,” you joked, turning towards Gepard. Looking at the house in its entirety, the shutters were missing from the windows, the roof was nonexistent, and the chimney had been mostly reduced to a pile of bricks. It was entirely unsalvageable from a realist’s perspective.

The captain studied your features carefully— you showed no traces of hurt or anger that would normally be present at such a scene.

It puzzled him, how you were able to maintain such a cheerful demeanor when a building that was supposed to represent comfort and safety was torn completely to shreds. He was filled with admiration at how well you had held yourself together.

“Let’s go in,” you said. You nudged away the splintered wood door with your elbow and stepped into the building— you really hoped it hadn’t been ransacked while you were away.

Gepard’s hand dropped reluctantly to his side. He followed suit, scanning the interior for any structural instabilities.

“What are you searching for?” He inquired.

You were busy bending down over a fallen bookshelf with books scattered in its midst. You analyzed the wreckage; a few ceramic teacups and saucers lay crushed under the impact zone, which you took care to avoid.

You brushed a few coal-black cobwebs out of your way that made you want to pull your skin off. “Just an old phonograph. It meant a lot to me as a kid, so I figured it was time I went back for it,” you said, not bothering to mention the dream you’d had that morning.

As much as you wanted to deny it, it almost felt like the phonograph was the one part of the dream that could come true. Hearing the music you listened to in your childhood again wasn’t a hard thing to accomplish, but that lovely, soft feeling that had blanketed your heart when you had realized that Gepard was waiting for you in that kitchen— you didn’t think you could recreate that.

Considering your dream would never, ever happen.

You felt disappointment form a hard lump in your stomach.

When did I start believing in a pipe dream? You wondered. Natasha would scold you for chasing such nebulous goals.

“I got a promotion recently too. I was actually considering moving out and getting an apartment instead of staying at the florist’s. It gets crowded there sometimes,” you said offhandedly.

“You got promoted?” Gepard replied, his eyebrows arching in surprise. He hadn’t heard anything about this, even with Serval serving as the best grapevine around.

“Yeah, I did!” You said happily. “I totally forgot to mention it because—,”

I’ve been avoiding you since we went to the museum, whispered your inside voice.

“I… wanted to surprise the others,” you drabbled, your shoulders drooping the slightest bit. But you picked them up as fast as you could.

“Of course,” he said. “You have my sincerest congratulations,”

That sent another pang of guilt through you. He was so incredibly earnest. And here you were, lying straight to his face in order to keep him at an arm’s distance. All because your own feelings were too much to handle.

You needed something to take your mind off the situation, and quickly.

“Hey, check this out!” You said with a little more artificial enthusiasm than you’d intended. “This photo is practically ancient!”

You hoisted an old sepia photo of you and your grandmother in front of your chest. You were watching her lift a tray of cookies into the oven in the kitchen. There was a huge variety of sweets, including chocolate buckeyes, and coconut macarons. You missed her baking more than anything.

In the picture, your grandma wore a simple lilac apron, decorated lovingly with white lace around the edges. It was incredibly well-made; you’d had trouble finding one of similar quality ever since (even though the goods were supposed to be super high-end in the overworld).

Gepard, however, had lost all ability to speak, completely blown away by the piece of your past you had so voluntarily let him see.

You looked so joyful as a child, completely free of expectations that would have been bestowed upon you had you been raised as a noble, like him. That wide, toothless smile held treasures he couldn’t even begin to fathom.

“So cute…” you muttered softly. You quietly removed the picture from its frame and slipped it into your bag, where you felt it rest alongside your old pickaxe that you brought with you everywhere.

Running a quick check in the tiny hall closet, you thought you heard the high-pitched sound of ice cracking in the kitchen.

Weird, you thought, poking your head around the corner to take a better look. But what you saw nothing short of baffled you.

An ice-type Fragmentum creature, donning the damaged apron of your beloved grandmother, stood in front of the oven range. The kitchen itself was mostly intact, save for a few boxes of grains scattered about and a few appliances knocked over.

“Oh,” you started. “Son of a—,”

The creature let loose a gurgling sound from its throat and charged at you.

“Shit—!” You yelped as you scrabbled around for the nearest weapon. All reason leaving you, you completely forgot about the pickaxe in your bag. In the few seconds before it reached you, you took notice of a rusty frying pan hanging from a holder on the wall. Mimicking Gepard, you swung it with every drop of strength in your body and landed a forceful whack on the side the monster’s head.

The sound of metal on metal rang out all through the house. Bits of ice fell off the creature, sizzling with eerie smoke as they hit the tiled floor.

The figure struggled to regain its balance, reaching its icy claws toward your face. You could feel the icy chill radiating off of them, stealing your heat away.

That’s my heat, you bastard!

Gepard, having certainly heard the commotion, came speeding into the room like the cheetah he was named after. You were clinging onto the back of the monster, which was bucking you around like a Voidranger in a futile attempt to dislodge you.

In a sudden burst of effort, it flung you backwards and sent you careening into one of the cabinets. Bits of rotten wood showered on you from the impact, and a stray spice bottle hit you on the head. You disgustedly spit out the sawdust that had snuck into your mouth and caked your tongue.

The captain desperately scanned the room for something to use. The kitchen was far too small to activate his shielding device, so he wrapped his arms around the nearest table and hurled it straight at the icy foe (all while praying you wouldn’t be furious at him afterward for ruining your kitchen).

Thankfully, the table made an excellent weapon. It sent the monster sprawling across the floor with a creaking groan. Gepard then launched himself at it and pinned it to the floor with his arms.

Unfortunately, the enemy hadn’t quite given up yet. It wrestled one of its arms free of Gepard’s grasp and reached its clawed hand to slice at his lower legs. In a strange fit of ingenuity, you grabbed your pickaxe out of your bag, wedged it under the Fragmentum creature’s head, and just like a bottle cap— you twisted its head clean off.

Letting out a sickening crack, the monster’s head rolled leisurely across the floor and bonked into an open cabinet door. You nearly vomited at the sight.

Now unoccupied, Gepard rushed to your side. “Are you—,” he started.

“Yeah,” you choked out. “I’m okay,”

You clutched your chest while letting out wheezing gasps.

The captain glanced around the area worriedly. “I think it’s best we get going. There could very well be more monsters around here,”

“Wait—,” you gasped, scrambling to your feet. “I think— I think I found it,”

You peered into the cabinet that had been violently smashed o pieces. Something glinted at you from the debris— but a grinding sound came from outside that made your hair on your neck stand completely on end.

Bending down, you brushed away the wood chips from the spice cabinet and successfully uncovered the old phonograph. It was in decent condition, aside from a few screws missing, and your family’s record collection lay right beneath it.

“Ah, classic gran,” you said aloud. She did have a habit of putting things in the wrong places, after all. That saved you from having to check the upstairs floor.

“Okay, now let’s go,” you declared. You crammed as much of the device as you could into your bag, the horn still handing out of the flap, and made a mad dash for the front door. Gepard’s armor rattled as he followed suit.

We better tell the guards about this, you thought while your feet pounded against the pavement. Your breath condensed in large clouds as your throat burned with the taste of iron.

You cast a glance over your shoulder to see if Gepard was still following, just in time to see his eyes widen in horror.

Your boots left long marks in the dirt as you skidded to a halt. There you stood, aghast, as you realized what greeted you wasn’t the exit— but an automaton Direwolf.

It stood tall and menacing, with steam pouring out its joints and pistons that fired like a heartbeat. As a piece of technology from the old world, no one fully understood how they worked, not even denizens of the Robot Settlement, who modified and repaired them for a living. It made dealing with hostile ones a living hell.

“By the Architects,” Gepard swore. “(Y/N), find somewhere to hide, quickly!”

You obliged, opting for the nearest shelter that happened to be a pile of crates and barrels to the right of him. You crouched like a bear cub with your knees pressed to your chest as you tried to get a grasp on the situation from your location. Your companion was gearing up to ready himself for battle.

Shit. I need an opening to activate Earthwork, Gepard thought. He hoisted the barrier-device-slash-guitar-case defensively. I have no one to cover for me here,

The aggressor made of meshing cogs eyed him ominously through its crosshair. He eyed it back, the gaze of a predator in his eyes. He refused to falter, even minutely. Doing so would mean death for the both of you.

It raised its one chainsaw arm with a thundering roar, and the battle began.

The earth shook tremendously with every step as it sped forward, full-throttle. Gepard’s heart thrummed as he tried to consider all his options, but it was closing the distance faster than he could formulate his thoughts. He couldn’t roll right or risk giving away your position, or dodge too much and risk leading it towards the settlements. But a solid hit to one of the leg joints would slow it down considerably.

The automaton Direwolf swung ferociously at the captain, cutting large glowing divots in the nearby boulders that sizzled as they touched the surrounding air. Steam hissed, loud and high-pitched in your ears, bringing out a type of instinctual fear from within you.

A grimace crossed Gepard’s features. Direwolves were built for speed, so there was no chance you could both outrun it. Additionally, there was nothing that could escape the gaze of its optical sensor with so little cover around. He was going to have to fight it head-on.

It raised its mechanical arm to strike once more. The captain grasped his battering ram firmly by the handle, and swung it in a large arc. It landed a solid blow in between the metal plates that comprised its abdominal area, and sparks showered in the air, suggesting a sufficient amount of damage had been dealt.

The now open wires sizzled as the automaton staggered backwards. Gepard wasted no time seizing the opportunity; he was relentless in his following sequence of attacks, aiming for the most vital points concealed within the machinery.

He ducked under its flailing limbs and struck a heavy blow on the machine’s back. But it swiveled its torso around unexpectedly, without moving its legs even a millimeter, and swung at him again, leaving deep scores in the earth. Gepard skidded out of the way, leaving his cape billowing wildly behind him with the following dust cloud.

Your eyes flickered around the area as clangs and thuds rang out around the clearing. You reached a mitten-clad hand out tentatively to slink along the ground, but retracted it as white-hot sparks showered your exposed forearm. You had to make your next move, and quickly.

There was no way Gepard could win a battle of endurance. Not even with his superhuman amount of stamina. You almost called out to him, but halted when you realized it could easily draw the Direwolf’s attention to you. And you had nothing but your old pickaxe in your bag to defend yourself with.

You had to get help. It made no difference if it was the vagrants with shovels or the entirety of the Silvermane Guards. You had to make sure Gepard got out safe.

You ran a quick scan over the area; there were a few other piles of debris that were sizable enough to stay out of the monster’s field of view. If you could just make it to the exit, you’d be free to call for help.

Ducking your head, you sprinted to the closest pile and dove behind it. You snuck a quick peek at the scene. Gepard was still holding his own. Good.

This time around, you hid behind a barrel laying on its side. A patch of metal lattice fell over with a loud crash due to the shockwaves of the fight, but the machine paid you no mind.

Finally, you resorted to shuffling on your hands and knees to crawl just out of view behind a tarp that was almost threadbare. By this point, your pants were ripped and your knees were bleeding, picking up bits of rocks and glass that stuck to your sticky skin. But you ignored it. You were in the homestretch. The guards couldn’t be too far away now, they had probably heard all the commotion and—

You heard a loud thud that made your limbs completely freeze over.

Trembling, you turned ever-so-slightly behind you. You caught sight of a stray barrel rolling over to bump itself on your foot, followed by a pained groan that stole your breath right from your throat.

Gepard?

In the dim lighting, you could vaguely make out a figure clad in silver and gold, laying limply against a wall, a few broken crates on each side. Fire flickered in the background, illuminating the barrier device laying discarded on the ground, just out of arm’s reach for him.

You noticed something drip down slowly from the top of his head and soak into his fur collar, staining it a bright crimson. His eyes were closed, and he was showing no signs of moving.

Blood… that was definitely blood.

Time seemed to grind to a halt around you. Your knees threatened to give out, and you could only vaguely make out the sound of your own voice— screaming, wailing— something that wasn’t quite words. The sounds from the enemy machine sounded muffled, as if they were deep underwater, in a world different from your own.

Shaking profusely, you became aware of just how much fear had saturated your body. But you had to keep moving. The captain was alive until proven otherwise.

And you would hang on until the very end.

You ground your teeth together and made a quick sweep of the area. There was a package of dynamite that miners used to blow apart piles of debris to your right, but you had nothing to light it with. Even if you did, you didn’t trust your aim enough to keep Gepard out of the blast radius. To your left lay some books, a radio, and— an oddly shaped rock?

Whatever. It was just the right size for throwing.

You stuffed it in between your arms and pushed aside another book just in time to spot one of the old flares the miners used to use.

Yes! That could be your saving grace.

Your arms wavered so much that you thought that they might fall out, but you had to keep going. Gepard’s life was on the line.

You whipped back around and cranked your arm back far as it could go, when suddenly, you felt something whir and vibrate in your palm— and a strange mechanical voice rang out in your ear.

“Hello,” said the voice, which seemed to be coming from your palm. “I am Findie, model 17703 of the home-finding series. Please input your instructions, and I will locate whatever you are looking for!”

You whipped the rock(?) in front of your face. One of the gears rotated, as if it were waving “hi” to you.

“What the FUCK??” You roared in surprise.

A rock was a rock, no matter how much it yapped, you decided. You twisted the cap off of the fuse, wound your arm up, and chucked the rock with the fury of a blizzard.

“Over here, asshole!” You screamed. Your fear tore through your body like a tornado, threatening to tear you apart.

Fury rolled off of you in waves as you held the fuse high above your head. Clouds of red smoke rose into the air and billowed around you, swirling around your dust-covered face.

The rock landed square on the machine’s metal head with a loud tang.

The machine turned towards you menacingly for a short moment, but immediately refocused on the prey directly in front of it.

Shit. That was bad.

You scrabbled on the ground for anything you could get your hands on. A lantern? That would do. A plank of wood? Why not. Who gave a shit at this point??

Anything that would get you out of there and safe and sound. You’d promised you would help Serval with an invention later that week, and you weren’t one to break your promises.

The items bounced off of the machine one after another. It would halt its movements every time one made contact, but you were running out of things to throw.

Tears and ash clogged your eyes, but you wouldn’t let up, even for a second. Not until every bone in your body was forcefully broken and you were bruised and battered into next month.

“Get your GRUBBY HANDS off of him!” You roared. Tears and snot were streaming down your face now, and your entire body screamed at you to run, escape, anything. But you forced your feet to stay rooted to the ground where they were.

Gepard’s head lolled weakly to the side. You choked as you assumed the worst had come to fruition, and you felt as if the world was crumbling around you.

You were in the middle of chucking a portable radio at the thing when you heard the smattering of feet heading in your direction. You gasped as a wayward antenna poked you right in the eye.

Soldiers. And a lot of them, at that.

Guards in Silvermane uniforms stormed the clearing, waving around halberds, cannons, and muskets galore. Without wasting a second, the cannoneers let out a barrage of attacks that nearly blew both of your ears off.

“Backup is here, Captain!” One of the soldiers announced. You spotted a slight movement from the spot where he lay.

Another wave of firing went off. Cannonballs embedded themselves in the joints of the machine, inhibiting its movement— it began to creak and sway on its feet. Evidently enough, it realized that the most imminent threat came from the squadron of soldiers that had arrived, rather than Gepard, who was likely unconscious.

The main soldier continued issuing orders. You watched him, completely enraptured, from behind. You hardly noticed as a Silvermane gunner snuck up from behind you, and shuttled you somewhere out of harm’s way.

Soldiers had successfully managed to surround the automaton, impeding its movement. The Direwolf stamped its feet in confusion at the sudden commotion.

Shots rang out once more, and several nets weighed down by iron balls wrapped around the machine— along with a grappling hook that tied its legs together with a cord. But the machine sliced through the feeble wires with little effort.

As you took a step back, something clanked against your thigh from inside your bag. You gasped, turning to the soldier beside you with a realization.

“You have to disable the control panel,” you said, recalling your previous knowledge of when you worked in the mines.

“We’re more than aware of that,” he said curtly. He turned back to the battlefields without as much as another word.

“Yes, but the door to the panel is impervious to attacks. Could you take out the optical sensor on its face, maybe?”

The guard sighed, but shouted to the nearest cannoneer to aim a shot towards its face. An explosion burst from the area where the attack had landed. The automaton was now twitching violently with its sensors disabled.

Gepard, who was slowly regaining consciousness, sensed the sudden halt in activity. It was far noisier than it had been previously, the shouts of men and the clanging of metal made his head throb with pain. Sticky red liquid coated his falling eyelids, staining his vision red. The captain ignored the pounding in his skull and forced himself to his feet.

I… have to… I’m… still.. needed…

His body groaned with effort. He fought through the haze of pain and commanded his eyes to focus.

Earthwork was just a hair’s breath away. All he had to do was grab it.

Qlipoth… give me strength!

The captain mustered every ounce of courage in his body, bracing his arm against a nearby wall for support. Blood dripped down his face with even more fervor, but he wiped it off with his glove, sending a few small droplets smattering to the ground.

“The captain— he’s alive!” One of the men cheered. You gasped as you saw him stagger to his feet.

Gepard willed his muscles to move and dove in between the machine’s legs. He snatched his weapon and spun, quickly smashing it in one of its knees. The Direwolf lost its footing and toppled over immediately.

“Captain, use this!”

Gepard swiveled, surprised to hear the voice coming from not one of his own soldiers, but you.

Your pickaxe sailed through the air and clattered on the ground at his feet.

“Use it to break into the control panel on its chest,” you instructed with a shout. “There should be an emergency off switch right in the center!”

He grabbed the tool, but instead of using it to pry open the door to the circuit breaker, he punched it repeatedly with the metal gauntlet on his right hand until the steel door crumpled like a piece of paper. Your jaw dropped in shock at the sheer ferocity of the sight.

Clinging to the machine’s torso, Gepard scanned the machine’s chest cavity for the switch. But bundles and bundles of wires blocked his view.

The gigantic machine began to rumble. Gepard had to act, urgently. There wasn’t enough time to search for the switch, but he had to do something.

As thoughts fired through his brain like lightning, he had an idea. He could use the pickaxe to hook under the wires and pull them out. If he used his hands, his metal gauntlet would likely act as a lightning rod and thoroughly fry him, but the pickaxe’s handle was entirely made of wood. It was a decent shot.

The captain held the pickaxe with both his hands and used it to dig under the nest of wires, using his legs to anchor him to the machine— and yanked backwards until the threads snapped. He did it again, this time winding them around the pickaxe like spaghetti before pulling once again.

The machine fizzled and popped, its lights flickering before finally succumbing to the damage and collapsed, leaving enormous dust clouds in its wake. You covered your mouth with your shirt to avoid breathing them in.

Gepard’s chest heaved with great effort, and three guards hurried to his side, immediately, shouting things like, “Captain, are you injured?” And “Captain, we were so worried!” You were surprised at just how much emotion the usually stoic guards’ voices held when dealing with their leader.

The young noble let out an enormous sigh of relief. As soldiers practically swarmed him on all sides, one offered their shoulder for him to lean on, and they hobbled back towards the Silvermane Guard camp together.

You were barely aware of the sensation of someone throwing a blanket around your shoulders (even though you were still sweating buckets), and leading you to another location. You figured this was the secondary location of the Silvermane Guards’ camp, reserved for dealing with the public.

Said location was farther than Gepard than you had hoped it would be, but you couldn’t afford to be picky at this point. You were dropped off at an inconspicuous tent that was complete with snacks and apple juice to await further instructions. You felt much like a lost child.

The tent had a few tarps and blankets on the ground to shield you from the cold, hard ground, which would suck the heat out of any living thing that it came into contact with. It also included a stack of down pillows in the corner, which you readily surrounded yourself with, stacking a few to prop yourself up like a makeshift recliner. They definitely weren’t the softest things in the world, but they offered a welcome respite for your aching bones.

Although the tent’s canvas was reasonably thick, voices still managed to make their way in from outside. Bits and pieces of conversations, mostly about the incident and how you were faring. You wish they’d just ask you, honestly.

The next time you heard someone’s voice, you took the opportunity to creep out of your tent and ask them how Gepard was doing. The recipient of your questioning was power-walking with a few rifles in their arms that were likely being brought back to the barracks.

You lifted a hand to get their attention. “Excuse me, is Gep—,”

You bit your tongue. The sheer amount of guilt that welled up in your throat was utterly stifling. You didn’t have the right to address him with so little respect after what he’d been through.

“Um…” you continued, fighting through the anxiety that threatened to close your windpipe. “Is the captain okay?”

“Captain Gepard?” The soldier turned to face you. “Yes, he has a few injuries, but he will survive,”

You let out a wheezing sigh of relief that made your knees shake. “Thank Qlipoth. What kind of injuries?”

“Well— he got his brains jostled around a little bit when his head got bashed against a wall,” the soldier mused. He had an air of casual-ness about him. “He has a few lacerations from some shrapnel as well. Did you see the one on his head? That one was real nasty,”

Nothing had prepared you for the way the ground wriggled beneath you or how your stomach flipped inside out and backwards. You couldn’t breathe for a moment as your diaphragm heaved uncomfortably. You staggered over to the scrap metal pile, where you proceeded to vomit up the meal you’d gotten from the food stall earlier.

The soldier watched as you wiped away the vile liquid dripping from your chin and turned back around.

“Sorry,” you muttered. Why the hell would you say it like that?? You glowered at him internally. He shuddered, feeling your gaze on him.

At that moment, you wanted to be anywhere else but there.

“I’ll uh— I’ll get you a cup of tea,” the soldier said apologetically. You took a seat on a wooden crate, bracing yourself by gripping its edges so tightly you thought your knuckles would freeze that way.

They came back in a heartbeat with a steaming cup of tea, as promised. It was the type commonly used in the Silvermane Guards’ rations. You drank it gratefully, elated to finally be rid of the taste of vomit in your mouth.

After you’d finished, you asked if there was anything you could help with around camp. The guard looked at you like you’d sprouted an extra head.

“H-help out? Why?” He asked. “We couldn’t possibly ask you to help out all you’ve been through, Mx. (Y/N),”

After all I’ve been through, huh?

You barked a dry laugh.

“I’m perfectly fine,” you said plainly. “You all have done so much for me. I feel like I owe it to you all,”

You clenched your fist to quell the slight bitterness that was eating at you. “Besides, the only reason I made it out of there alive was because the captain saved me,”

The soldier sighed, loaded with uncertainty at your statement. “I’m not sure, since it’s technically against protocol to enlist the help of citizens without proper reason. But firstly, you should go see the lieutenant—,” he said, resting his hand on his chin. “—I believe he wanted to obtain an incident report from you, but there’s a chance he’ll have a job for you to do afterward,” he pointed you in the direction of the tent, which had a large dark blue banner flying above it.

“Right, okay,” you acquiesced. You set your cup down, dusted off your tunic, and waved the soldier goodbye. He waved back, with a slight air of confusion about what had just happened.

Meanwhile, guards milled about everywhere you went. You soundlessly slipped into the tent you had been directed to, awaiting your sentencing, sitting down in a foldable metal chair in front of a desk with a quill and an inkwell. You flinched at how cold it was.

The tents here weren’t the most comfortable thing ever, but they were much neater than the ones in the vagrant camp, where people hoarded every scrap of metal they could get their hands on. This led to tents looking more like portable junkyard balloons.

A breeze of air whisked its way inside as the tent flaps peeled open, and the lieutenant’s metal visor glowed like a flame in the lamplight. The man had to duck a fair bit so as not to act as an extra support pole inside the tent.

He set down his hefty shield with a clunk, all while sitting down in front of you. A sheaf of papers also made its appearance from his bag, and he shuffled through them with incredible dexterity (considering he wore clunky metal gauntlets on both hands).

“Hello,” the man said, raising his hand in greeting. “I’m Lieutenant Thrace Hawthorne of the 4th Division of Silvermane Guards. It’s a pleasure to meet you. You must be (Y/N), I presume?” He asked as he extended his other hand towards you.

You took it cautiously, keeping a close eye on his body language. “Yes, that’s me. I was instructed to come here by another guard,”

He gave you a firm handshake, but squeezed your knuckles in a way that made them throb with pain. Air hissed thinly through your teeth. “Yes, and I thank you for being here as we intended,”

You retracted your arm, eyeing the man up and down suspiciously. You couldn’t discern his facial expressions with that stupid hat in the way.

“—you are aware that the Silvermane Guards do everything in our power to maintain a safe environment for the people of Belobog, correct?”

“Yes, sir,” you replied obediently.

“And, in order to keep the Guards as safe as possible, we need as much information as we can get,”

You nodded.

“Good,” he said while dipping the pen nib into the inkwell. “So, I will be asking you a few questions about what happened down here today. Is that alright with you?”

You agreed, albeit not too enthusiastically. Something in your gut told you that you didn’t exactly have the option to refuse.

“I’m glad we have an understanding,” he replied smoothly. “So, what kind of business were you two conducting in Rivet Town earlier today?

You paused, scratching your chin. “I went to retrieve an family heirloom from my old home. Captain Gepard was merely accompanying me at that time,” you explained. “We intended to be in and out in less than half an hour,”

The man across from you scribbled down a few notes. “Were you aware that it was a dangerous area at the time?”

“I was not. We had been told it was largely safe,” you responded. “Threats that severe shouldn’t have been lurking there, as far as we knew,”

Lieutenant Hawthorne tutted, which rubbed you the wrong way. Just his presence made you want to itch. “Where or from whom did you receive this information?”

“No one in particular. I’d just heard word on the street,”

“Any particular people that come to mind?”

“No, sorry,” you shook your head. You’d seen far too many people on your way to recall accurately who had told you what.

“Okay. And why was Captain Gepard accompanying you at that time?”

“I was visiting Natasha, and she had said that it might be best if someone came with me, because it might not be particularly safe,”

“Ah… that Natasha,” The man mused. “Wildfire’s leader,” he said, flipping the page over. You pursed your lips at him as something twisted in your gut. You didn’t trust this man as far as you could throw him and his stupid gigantic shield.

Don’t you dare say her name like that, you hissed.

“The captain himself volunteered to go,” you jumped in quickly. “That’s just the way he—,”

You froze, realizing you’d given away more than you’d intended to. Your emotions had gotten the better of you.

Hawthorne’s gaze was unwavering through his silver visor. “Interesting… on the other hand, what is Miss Natasha like?”

This time, you thought through your words carefully. “She’s— she’s a kind woman and one of the hardest working people in the underworld. She takes care of people at every possible opportunity,”

“What’s her relationship to you?” He inquired.

“She’s the local doctor. Everyone knows her,” you said bluntly.

“Does she have any strong opinions about the Guards that you know of?” The lieutenant asked.

“Not that I’m aware,” you shook your head. “She’s never refused their help or spoken badly of them,” you explained. “She has the best intentions for everyone, no matter their background,”

Unlike you, you slimy bastard, you whispered internally.

Lieutenant Hawthorne asked you a few more questions, mostly about the automaton and the rescue, such as what color it was, if there were any discernible features, etc., before asking completely out of the blue,

“Are you romantically involved with Captain Gepard?”

“No??” You shot a look loaded with incredulity at him. “With all due respect, where did that come from, sir?”

“He’s never mentioned you before,” Hawthorne stated. His voice was like unbending steel. “An affair is unlikely, but not impossible,”

Who in their right mind would arrange a secret rendezvous in RIVET TOWN?? You snorted. This officer wasn’t worth a lukewarm bottle of rye bread soda.

“Then what is your relationship with him?”

Hah. As if I knew, you scoffed. You tried to formulate an answer as best you could.

“We’re friends. And I assume that, like most people, Gepard likes to keep his work and his life separate. That is all,” you said, your tone as flat as a sheet of paper.

“I can tell from your tone that you did not particularly enjoy those last few questions,” the man said, resting his hands on the table. “But this incident was incredibly serious. The guards may suspect some sort of foul play,” he stated matter-of-factly.

You clenched your fists at your sides so hard your knuckles turned white.

“I’m sorry for asking something so intrusive. But, a word of advice, (Y/N)—,” the lieutenant said, motioning towards you. “I suggest you keep your distance from the captain for the time being. As a witness of such an alarming incident, you wouldn’t want to draw attention to yourself,”

I know that, you gritted your teeth. I’m not stupid,

“Especially considering how he was outside of his usual territory. Some might think you lured him there on purpose,”

You bit back tears, pinching the bridge of your nose to hide your quivering jaw. “Sure. I’ll keep your advice in mind, thanks,”

Turning away so that he couldn’t see your expression, you pushed aside the tent flaps with barely controlled anger.

You knew he was right. All you ever did was get Gepard into odd situations that he wasn’t equipped to deal with.

Guilt crashed over you in waves. You were a bad influence, dragging him everywhere without a spare thought for his job or reputation. And he was probably too kind to turn you down otherwise.

Did he even really like you?

You knew this thought was ridiculous, but maybe, just maybe, you had deluded yourself into believing it. It sent sharp jabs of pain through your chest that wouldn’t stop, no matter how much you tried to think around it.

You walked in circles around camp in an attempt to calm yourself down. But it didn’t work. Finally, you ran across the same soldier that had given you tea earlier, and pestered him politely enough that he finally revealed Gepard’s location to you.

You had to get word from the man himself, or you’d never find peace.

After a few minutes of walking around, you spotted a tent that had a few more soldiers milling about it than usual.

Not knowing whether or not their eyes were on you, you approached it cautiously. You crept in even though your mind wasn’t sure if you really deserved to be there.

The medical tent was dark— you had to scrunch your eyes up a fair bit to adjust to the lighting. But, using the small sliver of light filtering in from the inside, you could faintly make out the shape of Gepard lying motionlessly on a cot.

You quietly pulled a metal bin up next to his right side to serve as a shoddy chair. It was then that you realized the true extent of the damage you had done.

The captain’s head was wrapped in bandages that partially covered his left eye. A pad of gauze with adhesive tape on each side was stuck to his chin, and there was a pillow on each side of his head to keep his neck in place, along with one under him to keep him supported. Most of his armor, such as the metal breastplate and his medals, had been removed and set aside, save for the metal arm armor he wore. You wondered if someone had forgotten to remove it.

You noticed his cape hanging torn from a metal rack, and stared at it with a plaintive expression for a few. You didn’t think there was anything you were capable of doing to make this situation any better.

Sighing, you rested an elbow on your knee while tracing the outline of his hand with your free arm. He was resting so peacefully— albeit his eyebrows were a bit furrowed— maybe it would be best if you let him rest for now and came back later?

You rose to your feet quietly like a mouse. But even with a severe head injury, the captain’s perception hadn’t dampened a bit. He began to stir.

“Mmm… Franz? What is it?” He croaked weakly, his brows furrowing the slightest bit. Your breath caught in your throat.

“Franz, is that you?” The captain asked again, a little bit stronger this time. You flinched as he wined in pain. He was definitely feeling the hit he’d taken. You returned to your seat on the frosty metal bin.

“No, sorry,” you said softly. Your stomach churned like butter just looking at him. “…it’s me,”

You patted his hand gingerly, willing your tears to go away.

“(Y/N)…”

Gepard opened his eyes to get a better look in the dim lighting of the tent. You leaned over the cot, your eyes filled to the brim with guilt and ash covering your cheekbones.

“I’m… glad that you’re safe,” he rasped. The captain cleared his throat painfully.

“That’s my line, dummy,” you smiled at him, slightly relieved. But your voice was loaded with pain.

“How are you feeling?” You asked. “There was a lot of… blood… as they were carrying you out,”

“I received a fairly bad cut right above my left eye,” he said. “They gave me a few stitches for it. I did hit my head pretty badly, but it’s nothing life threatening, thankfully,”

“Thanks the architects,” you sighed. “Your armor looks pretty beat up too. Are you gonna get it fixed?”

“It did its job,” Gepard replied. Lantern light hit its surface and it glinted, as if it was agreeing. “My rib cage could have cracked otherwise,”

He patted one of his ribs with his gloved hand to hammer the point home. You felt another twinge of guilt in your chest.

“R-right. Is there anything you need? Like water, y’know,” you murmured.

“I’m satisfied for now. Franz got me everything I needed earlier,” he cut you off.

“Okay,” you chewed on your lip in silence. Your hands fidgeted with nothing, as if searching for something to do.

You could tell Gepard’s eyes were trained on you, but you kept your own focused on the ground. A few chunks of dirt surrounded your feet where they had broken off from your boots that drew your attention.

Tears kept threatening to well up in your lower eyelids, but Preservation be damned— you were not going to cry right in front of him.

You rubbed your face with your sleeve, which unfortunately still smelled like bile, and feigned a cough to make the action less conspicuous.

“Y’know… I wanted to thank you for saving me back there,” you paused, staring off into the distance. “I got off with nothing but a few scratches because you kept me safe,”

Gepard hummed in acknowledgment, for he was unable to nod with his head and neck incapacitated. What you couldn’t hear, however, was how the inside of his head had whispered to him that if you had gotten injured, he would never have forgiven himself. The captain couldn’t say it outright— but he hoped that the way he gazed at you so longingly would get the message across.

With your nerves ticking at the fact he hadn’t said anything, you added, “They asked me like, a million questions before they let me go,” you chuckled lightly. It felt misplaced, but it was the best you could do to cheer him up.

Gepard didn’t seem to find the humor in it, though. His eyes stared back up at the ceiling. “Is that so?”

“Y-yeah,” you twiddled your thumbs slightly. “Some guy named Hawthorne— he sat me down for an hour or two earlier. He seemed kinda shady,”

“Oh, Lieutenant Hawthorne?” Gepard pondered. “I know of him. He may come off as a bit cunning, but he means well. Hawthorne lost his brother during the quarantine of the underworld. He just wants to keep the guards safe from any threat, so that no one has to go through the same experience he did,”

“Really?” You gasped in shock. “I guess I owe the guy an apology then,” you said, resting your head in your hands as your chest twinged with embarrassment.

“…I really jumped the gun on that one, huh?” You sighed.

“I don’t blame you,” Gepard replied. “Trusting your gut is important. And you would have more than enough reason to harbor some animosity, given the way the guards treated you all here previously,”

Something about his voice— although it wasn’t outright comforting— soothed your nerves a bit. Only someone so level-headed could reassure you so well, you laughed inwardly. Which was impressive— considering he was lying exhausted and halfway dead in front of you.

Maybe you didn’t have the right to be scared, because this was just the nature of his job (you know, the one he did every day for a living). But he was supposed to fight valiantly for Belobog’s people,

Not a single, worthless vagrant like yourself.

You kept inhaling a preparatory breath to speak, but each time the words would vanish right as they were about to exit your lips.

Finally, you couldn’t take it anymore. You had to spit it out.

“Gepard… I have a question to ask you,” you paused. “It’s kind of weird— but is that okay?”

The young noble’s eyes nearly bulged out of his head. Surely it wasn’t— no, it didn’t look like it.

That wasn’t the face of someone who was about to confess. He scolded himself mentally. This wasn’t the time or the place to be thinking about it. Instead, every hill and valley of your expression was laden with worry and pain. He wished he could sit up and take you into his arms, so he could whisk all of that pain away.

“It’s fine with me,” he said. “What is it?”

“It’s just—,” oh Aeons, this is so embarrassing, “Why is it that you hang around someone like me? If I’m being honest, I really don’t understand,”

Gepard’s mouth went dry.

“Someone like you? What might you mean by that?” He inhaled sharply.

“I’m just a troublemaker,” you replied, smiling sadly at him. “And you’re a guard. We’re as different as winter and spring,” you were taken aback almost disbelievingly.

“You’re hardly a troublemaker,” Gepard retorted. “At least, not in Serval’s sense, where she deliberately makes things harder for me,”

Okay, well, maybe not deliberately.

You grimaced. “That may be true. But, I cause you problems in other ways. Like, that time at the cafe tables. You’re a public figure, for Qlipoth’s sake! What was I thinking, pulling you up there in broad daylight?”

You clamped your mouth shut before you ran entirely out of breath. “My presence also puts a strain on your reputation. I’m from the underworld. We’re supposed to be lazy and dishonest, y’know,” you scolded. “I hear old ladies whispering about it all the time,”

You kept yammering, “Hawthorne even asked me if you were off horsing around with me because I brought you out there today,” you groaned frustratedly. “All I do is get you into weird situations,”

You were a centimeter away from pulling all your hair out.

“That’s not entirely true. I get into plenty of weird situations myself,” Gepard protested. “For instance, Serval—,”

“Stop throwing your sister under the bus!” You barked, proceeding to pinch him in the thigh.

“Agh—!” He flinched with a yelp. “As I was saying— that isn’t true in the slightest. Yes, we may have ended up in a few strange situations. But those are a rare minority of the times we spend together,” he shot back.

Gepard reached out and rested his gloved hand on your knee reassuringly, a new look coming across his face. Your heart twirled in your chest.

“Did you know that before we met, my days were largely routine… just like clockwork?” He asked.

“But you brought excitement into my life,” he declared. “Being friends with someone unaffiliated with the guards has been incredibly beneficial in terms of my own personal happi—,”

The captain cleared his throat before he gave away anything more. His cheeks turned a rosy shade of pink. “A-anyways,” he sputtered. “The benefits of being your companion far outweigh any drawbacks you think you might have,”

A noise of surprise escaped from your throat as you felt your face begin to heat. Wow, he sure had a way with words. But you weren’t going to go down without a fight.

“I— well, what are the guards going to think about you nearly getting killed over a stupid piece of junk?!?” You blurted out, your voice breaking. The phonograph in your bag bumped against the cot at the sudden outburst.

Gepard searched your eyes in vain for what you might be feeling, but he came up completely empty. His chest fell at your distressed face.

“It’s true that the guards are tasked with many important duties,” he began, enunciating each and every word slowly. “Such as defending the union, serving the people, and enforcing the orders of the Supreme Guardian… I believe my help today would fall under the ‘serving the people’ category,”

You tilted your head at him as if to beckon him to explain further.

“We get called to track down lost pets or put up posters quite frequently, in fact. It may not be the most exciting job, but it is an honor to help the citizens of Belobog in any way, shape, or form,” he said stubbornly. “And you are one of the people, are you not?”

He defiantly exhaled through his nose. You were left looking at him, slack-jawed. He’d left you almost no room to argue.

“But— I’m not a technically a citizen of Belobog. I’m just a random vagrant from the mines!” You argued. It was a dumber point than you wanted to push, but you knew no other way to fight back.

“Belobogian creed dictates that we treat the people with respect, no matter where they should live,” the captain said without a hint of doubt. “It’s true that the previous Supreme Guardian sanctioned efforts to close off the underworld, but it was framed in the light that it would ensure the safety of the people on the surface. But it was wrong,”

Gepard sighed, feeling the weight of your words squeezing his chest. “It was my understanding that we were all just trying to survive the Eternal Freeze… but in any case, it would have been disrespectful to ignore Miss Natasha’s request to accompany you—,”

Okay, now that’s stretching it a bit, you blanched.

“—and let you go by yourself. In fact, Article 4, Section 5, Line 2 of the Silvermane Guard handbook states that—,” he blathered on. It honestly impressed you. You were helpless to do anything besides stare in disbelief as words poured from his mouth like a waterfall.

“But wh-what about the higher ups and the old folk? Won’t they get angry at you if they find out you’re hanging out with someone of my standing?” You jumped in the moment he stopped to take a breath.

“If people want to trouble themselves with our relationship, which is in fact, none of their business, I say we let them,” Gepard responded. “It is of no concern to me unless it affects you negatively. In which case, I would step in,”

He tightened his grasp on your leg. “I did not reach the station I am at by trying to please those types of meddling figures. Your background has never once concerned me, not even for a second,”

The captain locked eyes with you in such a way that you thought you’d evaporate if you averted your gaze, it was so intense.

“You are not some kind of vermin,” he proclaimed. “It pains me to see you talk about yourself like this. You are one of the Eversummer Florist’s most capable workers, and first and foremost— you are my friend,”

He finally clamped his mouth shut. Aeons, the man in front of you had no clue how much those words meant to you. You sank your teeth into your bottom lip to keep it from trembling.

“I promise you, (Y/N). What people think will not come between us in the slightest. I will be your iron wall, whenever or wherever you may need me,” he vowed with every fiber in his body.

And that’s when tears came pouring down your face.

They streamed down your cheeks and soaked into the collar of your coat. Your body shook with sobs, your shoulders shuddering every time you drew in a breath.

It happened so fast that Gepard was completely at a loss. He stammered out a few words, horrified that he might have caused something, but all that came out were a mess of vowels.

You couldn’t hold it in anymore. Short cries escaped your throat that you tried to stifle with your hand, and you gripped your knees tightly, trying to still your shaking body. But it wouldn’t stop. Your chest felt tight, so tight.

“(Y/N),” Gepard said gently from his position on the cot. “(Y/N),” he called again.

“It’s going to be alright,” he whispered. “I’m here for you,”

All of those feelings flowed out of you like a dam had broken. He wove his thumb in circles around the fabric of your pants in a comforting gesture, easing your aching soul.

You grasped his hands suddenly with both of your own and held it to your cheek, letting the warmth of his skin through his glove calm you down. You nuzzled into the palm of his hand mournfully, tears continuing to trickle down your face, until they finally slowed to a stop, your cheeks and eyes still wet.

After the crying had subsided, leaving only the occasional hiccup, Gepard pulled a clean handkerchief out of his pant pocket and handed it to you. You blew into it loudly, giving him a congested apology afterwards.

You threw your head back to look up at the tent ceiling while blinking away any remaining tears. Willfully scrunching up your face, you let out a calming breath and returned to looking at the captain. He had a relieved look on his face.

“Okay,” you breathed. “I’m okay now. Thank you, Gepard,”

“It was the least I could do,” he said, placing his hand back down on the cot.

“Yeah,” you sniffed. “But it was more than enough,” you mustered up the best smile you could in order to reassure him.

“Um, about what you were saying earlier—,” you brought up. “If— if you say so. But the higher ups, would they withhold a promotion from you or because you were hanging out with me?”

He smiled gently at you, capturing your soul effortlessly with that simple motion. “I’m quite satisfied with being the captain of the Silvermane Guards, thank you. My deeds as a soldier stand as a testament to that,”

You wiped at your face with the sleeve of your coat jacket. “Hah, I guess I was worried for nothing then,” you said with a hint of frustration. “How silly of me,”

Gepard reached up and patted your head reassuringly, causing your eyes to widen. “The fault isn’t all yours. I appreciate you being so considerate, but it’s not your job to protect me,”

He put such meaning into every word he said. Such an admirable way of life.

You swatted his hand away lightheartedly. “Yeah? Well, it’s not your job to protect me, then,” you sniffed. You stuck your tongue out at him as far as it would go, which elicited a short laugh from Gepard.

Aeons, that smiling face was priceless. You could just lean over and kiss him right on that cot.

The smile faded from your face, replaced with something else now. You reached over him and wiped some stray hairs from his face using your single clean glove, watching them fall back into place with a satisfied look.

As you were retracting your arm— much to your surprise— he gently lifted one of his hands and placed it to yours, palm-to-palm. His fingers were slightly bent, so they wrapped around to the back of your hand. A smile danced on your lips; your face and neck much warmer than previously.

You clasped your hand entirely around his, admiring his soft smile. It was so warm and dreamy, a rare ember in a world as cold and hard as Jarilo-VI— a planet so unlike its namesake.

Just when you were stroking the side of his hand with your thumb, you heard a deep rumble (or maybe it was more like a growl?) from your companion’s stomach region.

Gepard went as red as a tomato.

“Captain… I thought you said you didn’t need anything?” You squinted your eyes at him accusingly at the realization.

Gepard internally cursed himself.

Sighing, he said,

“…maybe some porridge will do, thank you,”

BONUS:

“Ugh,” you grunted. “C-captain, you’re heavy! Franz, can you help me get him up real quick?”

Lieutenant Hawthorne, who was walking by the tent at the time, heard shuffling and something that sounded like a grunt of protest from the captain.

“Truly, (Y/N). I can sit up by myse—,”

“NO,” exclaimed both your and Franz’s voices loudly. Hawthorne stopped in his tracks.

“May I at least hold the spoon?” Gepard pleaded. Hawthorne could see your silhouettes from the lantern light cast upon the tent’s walls. You had your hands on your hips as Franz held a bowl and a tray behind you.

You snorted. “In your dreams. I got you all banged up, so it’s my job to take care of you. If I leave you be, you’ll just overwork yourself until you pass out again!”

“May I remind you, that was but a singular instance when—,”

“Lalalalala!” You sang obnoxiously. “I can’t hear you!”

“(Y/N), I beg of you. I must maintain my dignity,” he implored one last time.

“Here comes the Astral Express!” Hawthorne heard you shout, completely overshadowing the captain.

The tent went silent for a moment.

“It’s good, right?” You asked after a short pause.

“…yes,”

Th lieutenant chuckled to himself and continued on his way.

BONUS 2: Belobog Central Hospital

“…and as long as you take care of yourself, you should be good to go in about two weeks,” said the head nurse to Gepard, who was just finishing up giving him the synopsis of his condition. “We’ll be monitoring your condition for the time being, okay? Head injuries are nothing to joke about,”

He agreed. The captain lay in a hospital bed with a neck brace and one leg elevated with a foam wedge, which, frankly, he thought was overkill, considering he was able to walk to the camp.

A vase of fake flowers lay on the bedside table. Gepard smiled to himself. You’d mutter under your breath and call it a waste of a good vase.

After half an hour, the pain medications they had given him finally kicked in, and he’d drifted off to sleep.

He dreamt about making you a rye bread soda iceberg, your eyes lighting up as he placed it in front of you. Maybe once winter came around, he’d make you a pie, but he’d cross that bridge when he came to it. He snoozed softly, when suddenly he was awoken in the middle of the night by a scratching sound at the hospital window.

Gepard lifted his body as much as he could to get a better look, when he spotted the tops of two blonde heads along with a purple-haired one.

The tufted ears on Lynx’s hat wobbled. Serval’s blue eyes peered above the windowsill and they narrowed into crescents as she grinned. Meanwhile, Pela was looking around frantically, making sure no one spotted them.

His elder sister reached up with the multi-tool you had bought her, and fiddled with the lock. The latch came open with a clean pop. And true to her name, Serval slunk in gracefully, her heels clacking on the laminated floor.

“Hi, little bro,” she smirked. “Are visiting hours over?”

He looked at her incredulously. “I think you know the answer to that. Why else would you be breaking in?”

“Breaking in is a stretch,” she said, tossing her hair over her shoulder. “Like I said, we’re visiting— just outside of the intended time!”

Gepard sighed. “I cannot believe you managed to drag the other two into this. What if you get caught?”

“Actually, it’s three,” your voice piped up. It came from somewhere under Pela. You spoke again. “And we won’t, I promise,”

The captain’s eyes went as wide as saucers.

That’s right. He was on the second floor.

Lynx hoisted herself up, and Pela began to follow suit.

“H-how?” He blurted. “How did you get in here?”

“There’s a dumpster out back that we used to elevate ourselves,” Pela said, not wavering in the slightest. “It could only hold about two people, so (Y/N) is currently holding me up,”

She hoisted herself entirely into the room and beckoned the others to come hoist you up. Gepard spotted one mitten, then the other. And then the rest of you came into view. And you were holding a basket with a blue silk ribbon tied to it.

“We brought you a gift basket!” You whisper yelled. Gepard’s face lit up like a spotlight at the sight of you.

You hopped over to his side and leaned over him with a smile, showing him the contents of the basket. “We’ve got flowers, and cookies, and— hey! Are those fake flowers?” You snapped your head towards the flowerpot indignantly.

You put the basket down and scoffed. “That’s a waste of a good damn vase if I’ve ever seen one,”

Whisking yourself towards the sin against botany, you yanked the faux flowers out and tossed them aside. Then you replaced them with a few stems of white tulips from your basket and filled the vase with water from the nearby sink.

Gepard smiled. You’d said it all almost word-for-word.

And so you stayed a while, talking well into the night. And you were all so tired that no one showed up to their jobs the next day.

2024 - Dreaming-of-Mossballs - Do not repost/translate without my permission - NO AI

💙 THANKS FOR READINF I LOVE YOU 💙

[heartfullofleeches]

How would host react to co-host has a history of secretly killing power abusing money hungry narcissist?

What, do you want a wedding? That'll happen regardless of who you kill. Host loves to play the moral high ground, but it's just an act. People like you've described are his favorite kind of guest. The type break under pressure or when their crimes are brought to light.

If you promise to be good and avoid getting yourself hurt or caught he'll let you leave the stage to grab someone. No killing, though. They're a contestant afterall. You can have your fun if they lose... or you suck up to him enough.

The click of his heel reminds you of the tick of a timer. Repeating; marking every single each second it takes you to reach him. Host waits for you on stage, arms folded and body rigid aside from the bounce of his foot against the floor. He stills as you stand before him, the sharpness of his final step making you flinch. For a man without eyes, his gaze was smothering. He definitely knew what you did.. His smile didn't reach as far, but it was still there. There was a still chance he didn't yet - right?

"Did you have fun?..."

He runs a finger across your cheek, grey skin dyed maroon as he shows you his hand. You're covered head to toe in the same dye along with the bag you drag behind you. It wasn't moving as much as it did when you first nabbed them either. Shit.

"Seems to me like you have."

Host pulls a handkerchief from his pocket. The way his hand grips your jaw isn't as delicate as it used to be, but it wasn't harsh. He scrubs as your face, clicking his tongue with a grumble at the blood that refuses to wash off.

"Honestly, Y/n. I give you my trust, and you throw the rules in my face. Not only have you frightened our guest more than necessary, but you also ruined the coat the others worked so hard to make for you. What do you have to say for yourself?"

You take a deep breath. Only one thing you could do to get yourself out of this. Dropping your knife and hold of the bag you twist the end of your shirt, eyes wide as you make yourself look smaller than you already are.

"I'm sorry.... They attacked me first so it was in self defense. Please don't me mad it me, Host. I won't do it again."

Host bends to your height, thumb stroking the curve of your jaw. "Dear.. We both know that's a lie. We have the footage to prove it, but there is something thing that works in your favor..."

Here it comes-

"You're so gosh darn cute!" Host scoops you into his arms, lifting you a full foot off their ground as he spins on his heels. Lacking the means to give you a proper kiss he presses his cheek to yours as he stops in the center of the stage. He ruffles your hair, setting you back down, but not letting you go.

"Oh, you know I can't stay mad at you- Disobey me again though and I'll have to punish you quite harshly."

[pankowperfection]

Oh my gosh hi!! Could I please request something for Topper where he's maybe her bestfriend's older brother and he catches her in the shower? Maybe a bit of dark!Topper? Thank you so much!!!

Omg hi! sorry it too me so long to get to this. Hope you love it.

Warnings: smut, oral(fem receiving), dub con, dark!topper, 18+

Off Limits

God, I overdid it at that fucking party. I definitely smell like the mixed drink that touron sloshed all over me. I stumble up the stairs, not paying attention to what door I’m opening before I walk in.

The sight in front of me instantly sobers me up. After all these years waiting for y/n to notice me, I can barely believe my luck. She’s fully naked, steam filling the room as she massages shampoo into her hair.

The countless nights I'd spent fantasizing about her, how she'd feel underneath me while I fucked her senseless, what pretty sounds she'd make when I buried my tongue in her sweet pussy. Every dark desire I've ever had for my sisters best friend swirls through my mind, my resolve wavering with every passing second.

I take my time to appreciate her body while her back is turned to the door, each drop of water gliding down over her curves making me want to lick her everywhere. Blood rushes to my dick when she turns around, eyes still closed while she slides her soapy hands over her torso.

When her hands slip between her creamy thighs I lose the last bit of restraint, quickly peeling off my clothes as quietly as possibly. As she tips her head back to rinse out the bubbles I make my move, pushing my way into the shower and wrapping my arms around her.

“What the fuck?!” She screams, thrashing to get away from me and forcing me to bend one arm behind her, shoving her against the tile wall.

“Shhh, relax sweetheart. It’s me, Topper.”

"Top? What are you doing?"

She relaxes slightly in my hold, assuming she isn't in any danger but she couldn't be more wrong.

"Don't play dumb y/n," I whisper into her ear, her body reacting exactly how I'd planned. She shivers, unconsciously arching further into my touch. When she feels my hard cock pressing into her ass she whines, the sound like music to my ears.

"Ya know, I see the way you look at me. Always eye fucking me from across the room. So now, I'm gonna give you what you want. What we both want."

"I don't know what you're talking about Top, I'm s-sorry if I did something wrong."

She starts to shake, her eyes searching my face for something she won't find.

"Relax baby. Let me make you feel good. I bet this pretty pussy is dripping for me."

To prove my point I slide one hand down her body, my knee forcing her legs apart. When my fingers come into contact with her folds I grin in victory, she's so fucking wet. I tease through her pussy, gliding my fingers up and down agonizingly slow.

She starts to breathe heavier, eyes glazing over as her body gives in to the pleasure. "That's it baby, so fucking good for me."

When I bump her clit she moans, the sound going straight to my cock and making it twitch. I start to rub her little bud in circles, her head falling back onto my shoulder as her body winds tighter. I plunge two fingers inside and she gasps, eyes flying open to look at me while I stretch her out.

I let go of her arm, bringing my other hand up to rest on her throat. She swallows thickly, whimpers falling from her perfect lips when I start to curl my fingers inside of her.

"Top please," she begs and its the sweetest thing I've ever heard.

"Please what doll? Please stop or please don't?"

I don't get a response, her legs starting to shake as her orgasm races closer. Just when her walls start to flutter around me I stop, quickly pulling her ass backwards and burying myself inside her.

"Fuck y/n, so god damn tight." Her walls squeeze me like a vice, the urge to cum already forming low in my gut.

She braces herself on the wall, tears streaming down her cheeks from the stretch and overstimulation. I don't give her any time to adjust, I just can't resist any longer. I pull almost all the way out before thrusting back in hard, her body shaking from the impact.

I'm mesmerized by the sight of her ass jiggling every time I slam inside, my pace picking up as our mixed moans fill the air. The need to feel her lips on mine, to taste her, is strong so after a few minutes of giving it to her nice and deep from behind I pull out.

I spin her around, lifting her up in my arms and pressing her against the wall. Her eyes are glued between us, staring open mouthed at my dick resting against her entrance. When she finally meets my gaze I push inside and she moans, nails digging into my shoulders at how the new angle feels.

"Don't stop. Please let me cum." Her hands tangle into my hair, tugging harshly when I hit her sweet spot. I purposefully slow my thrusts, making sure to angle my hips just right to keep making her clench around me.

She takes me by surprise, closing the small distance between us and crashing her lips to mine. She tastes even sweeter than I could've imagined, my tongue sweeping into her mouth as she hangs onto me tightly. I break away first, sponging kisses down her neck and quickly finding her weak spot.

"Oh shit," she curses, back arching further off the wall as her pussy starts to tighten around me. She reaches between our bodies, rubbing her clit and sending herself straight over the edge. I silence her screams with my mouth, swallowing her sounds as my balls start to tighten.

When her teeth sink into my bottom lip its game over. My cock twitches before I'm filling her up, struggling to keep us both upright as the pleasure washes through me. I give her a few final strokes before pulling out, setting her on her feet and watching as my cum leaks down her thighs.

I can't resist, dropping to my knees and throwing her foot onto my shoulder. She watches me closely as I kiss up her thigh, teasing my way around her swollen lips with my tongue. Her hand is in my hair again and god I love when she tugs it like that. I lick once from her entrance to her clit and she shudders, leaning into the wall for support.

She tastes like heaven, between her thighs quickly becoming my new favorite place to be. I want to watch her cum again and again. Two fingers probe her entrance before pushing inside, she moans at the sensations and my dick hardens once again. How would I ever get enough?

I lap at her clit, flicking it slowly with the tip of my tongue and loving how her body trembles each time. "God, just like that Top. Feels so good." She starts to rock her hips into my face, eager to take all the pleasure I have to give her.

"Come on baby, want you to come on my tongue." I suck her clit into my mouth, giving it gentle flicks with my tongue while I curl my fingers inside of her. She's ready to fall apart again in now time, thighs trembling before she soaks my face. I eagerly lap up every drop, licking every square inch of her sensitive flesh.

She pulls me back to my feet, pushing her tongue into my mouth and moaning at the mixed taste of our releases. "That was incredible, but this can't happen again. Your sister will kill me."

I laugh, caging her back against the wall once again. "You think one time was enough for me? No sweetheart. You're mine now and I don't care what she thinks. You better not ever wear panties in this house again. You understand?" She nods and I take the chance to leave, quickly toweling off before heading to my room, the taste of her still on my tongue.

@adventuresinobx @starkeyobx @paradisehamilton @ailee-celeste @pankhoeforlife @outerbankspov @houseofperfecttaste @drewbooooo @maybankslover @maybanks-luver @blueicequeen19 @toystory2wasjustokay @onmykneesforrafe @penny4yourthoughts @maddie-routledge @ilovetheavenger143 @arsonistthornton

[merakiui]

Oh my gosh, Yandere! Floyd thoughts???? I really want him to be cute and cuddly towards darling after the initial threats, kidnapping, and stalking. He’s so cute and adorable compared to the rest of the trio, I need a little fluff.

I love the way you said that he wants to cuddle with darling without the fear. Just him trying to make himself smaller for darling’s comfort or even trying to make their favorite foods or trying to make them smile. I think we all need a little Floyd thought in our lives.

Also, love the idea of Floyd goofily dancing with darling just to get them out of bed and make them smile a little bit.

I don’t know, just I love your version of Floyd so much.

He is really cute and cuddly! I realized I never wrote many thoughts on yandere!Floyd, so now is the time! :D

(cw: yandere, unhealthy behaviors/relationship, captivity, mentions of violence, obsession)

Unlike Jade, who delights in your fear or Azul, who is desperate enough to delude himself into thinking your fear is just shyness, Floyd wants a genuine connection. For a while he might have fun toying with you, but that will get old soon. It’ll annoy him if all you ever do is cry or shake or cower from him whenever he’s nearby. He actively tries to put on a kind face for you. He tries to be patient to the best of his ability and cook meals he knows you like. Sometimes he’ll get frustrated and kick or punch the wall right near your head if you won’t eat what he offers and that’ll frighten you. Floyd is trying so hard to put his feelings into words, but he never quite can and so he uses actions to speak for himself. Though sometimes that winds up with him damaging things out of annoyance or anger.

He never hurts you, though. He never raises a hand to you; he’ll threaten those things if he’s particularly angry or upset. But he never, never hits you, breaks any bones, bites hard enough to draw blood. He doesn’t even touch you most days; you always get so scared if his large hand comes anywhere near you, so he keeps his hands to himself, even if the overwhelming urge to squeeze and hug and cuddle is ever-present. Even in the midst of a particularly volatile mood swing, Floyd knows that violence can’t solve this. He could hit you, but then that would just make you fear him even more. So he’ll bend down to your height when you’re sitting on the floor, usually cowering in the corner, and he won’t do anything. He’ll just remain there, talking to you in a soft voice.

Eventually Floyd gets the idea to actually make the barrier between the two of you visible. He’ll draw a line on the floor with chalk and tell you that he won’t cross it. And he follows his rule surprisingly well. He’ll sit cross-legged on the other side and watch as you pick at the food he’s put in front of you, humming to himself as he admires your cute hands. He wants to hold them so badly.

“The floor can’t be all that comfy.”

He starts with simple conversation topics like this one in hopes that one of them will break the ice between the both of you. Some days he’s granted a nod or a tiny hum. Most days you’re quiet. He does get angry when you don’t respond, but he tries so very hard to not scare you. He tries to keep his moods under control, which is such a strange thing because he’s never controlled anything before. He’s never needed to; he was spoiled enough to get away with anything. Jade spoiled him. His parents spoiled him. No one could talk back to him, no one could fight him, no one could dream of giving him the cold shoulder and getting away bruise-free. But things are different with you.

“You can sleep in the bed, ya know. It’s softer.” He’ll smile lopsidedly at you, tilting his head innocently. “Warmer, too.”

“N-No thank you.”

Floyd shrugs. “Suit yourself.” And he drops the subject just like that, only to try again with something else. “It kinda sucks when shrimpy’s always so scared. I’m not scary, yeah? I’m not like Jade.” He’ll chuckle to himself, as if it’s a joke he’s in on. “Ah! You should’ve seen him back when we were little. He hated losing. Was a real baby about it. Can you believe that? Anyway, there was this one time when I’d gotten into a fight and those bastards did a number on me, and Jade didn’t like it because I was all messed up, ya know? So when he met with them…” He’ll trail off when he notices your fear and then he realizes that a story about Jade beating the life out of a few unfortunate mers isn’t really comforting to hear. “You like soft things, shrimpy?”

The way he changes topics so frequently is almost as unnerving as he is, but you’ll give your reply with a nod. And come the next day he’s brought soft things for you: ice cream, sweet bread, gummy candies, an eel plushie, a shrimp plushie, blankets, pillows, even the mattress from the spare bedroom is dragged out for you. Floyd sits across from you, held back with that chalk barrier, and he’ll have his knees pulled into his chest, his chin resting on top as he smiles dreamily at you. You who is all wrapped up in blankets, who is sitting on the mattress and no longer on the cold hardwood. Floyd doesn’t need to chain you to get you to stay. His presence is enough of a collar.

“Now shrimpy’s comfy and warm.” He tilts his head at you, still smiling. “It’s colder in the sea, ya know. Real cold. Like turn-your-blood-to-ice cold. And it’s dark…” He’s not sure where he’s going with this, but you’re listening, looking at him from where you’re pressed against the wall. Floyd sighs a dramatic, exaggerated sigh and rises to his feet. “It’s too quiet in here!”

You flinch at the sudden rise in octave, and Floyd’s quick to withdraw his phone and put on some upbeat music. You stare at it, shoulders tensed.

“You know how to dance?” If you shake your head, he’ll grin and add, “Everyone can dance, even merfolk.”

And he’ll dance to the music in the goofiest of ways. He doesn’t seem to care; he just follows his own beat despite the ones that trickle out of his phone. You’ll watch him as he moves. It’s…actually a little silly. Before you know it, you’re cracking a smile, maybe even giggling alongside him, and Floyd’s smile is so bright and wide when he sees an expression other than sadness or fear. He never would have gotten this through violence or force. He’s doing the right thing and that makes him immensely happy.

Despite his scary appearance, he’s so sweet. He’ll play with the eel and shrimp plushie as if they’re dolls, making them talk to one another in hopes of getting you to smile. He spends each day separated from you by a line of chalk, doing all sorts of things to chase your fear away. And the next time he offers his hand for a dance, you reach out to take it and your hand is so warm and precious in his. He’s hit people with his hands, punched them until teeth cracked and had to be spat out in bloody lumps of gum. He’s choked people with these hands. He’s done so many violent things, but he won’t hurt you. He’s promised himself that.

So his fingers close around your hand so gently and he helps you up from the floor, uncharacteristically quiet. He’s watching you, though, his brows furrowed in concentration. As if he thinks you might retreat or fall or disappear. But he doesn’t hold you forcefully. You could easily slip out of his grasp if you wanted to.

There’s some reservation when you hesitate to step over the barrier. He looks into your eyes and smiles, connected to you only through holding your hand. For once Floyd doesn’t know what to say. He doesn’t want to scare you away. He’s made progress! Real, true progress. He can’t ruin this. Instead of filling the air with chatter, he’ll remain quiet and let you gather yourself. You might lower back onto the mattress and if you do that’s okay. He can wait and try again tomorrow. He will wait. He’ll be patient for you. He won’t hurt you. He won’t scare you. He’ll be good to you.

Floyd can never quite verbalize I love you, but you’ll know he cares for you with every fond, tender gesture. He wants to do things the right way—the good way. The way that’s patient and kind and endearing. The way that won’t have you scared of him. And maybe one day he’ll finally get to share a dance with you.

[dudewotheck]

Ever see those videos of people being goofy and they get their fingers stuck in a cart or basket in a store and need the fire department or employees’ help? Kara gets her fingers stuck, Lena can’t science Kara’s fingers out, and it becomes a big spectacle to free Kara’s fingers but Lena stills loves her

hope this makes u chuckle friend. omg. thank u for the prompt

It’s a thursday night, and they’re strolling along the waterfront hand-in-hand, enjoying the crisp air and each other’s company. Soon enough they’ve reached the statue that Lena had unveiled years ago, moonlight glittering off of it as they walk up to the base.

“I still can’t believe this exists. Gosh, it’s just, ginormous - “ Kara exclaims, gazing up at the giant metal likeness of her.

“Hm. Doesn’t come close to capturing your beauty, though.” Lena replies, squeezing her hand extra tight.

Kara shies away, smile on her face, observing how the moonlight passes through the holes at the base, scattering little circles of across the ground. Strange, did it always have those? Kara runs her hand over it. Sticks her pointer finger impulsively into one of the holes. Swiss cheese statue. Nice.

“C’mon, we should head back.” She hears Lena say, which is true, it’s getting late and-

Huh. Her finger isn’t budging. She yanks at it a couple times before she feels Lena pull at the hand she’s holding. “Babe? Are you - oh.”

She keeps yanking as she turns with an expression of confusion to Lena. “It’s not - my finger, it’s stuck, how is it stuck -“ With the force that she’s using, the metal should have already bent by now, freeing her. And yet, here she is, still yanking her hand with increasing desperation.

“It’s Nth metal, Kara. Why the hell did you stick your finger in-“

Her blood runs cold for a second, and pauses her attempts to free herself. “It’s what?! Oh no, oh crap, oh rao -“ She doesn’t like being stuck. Any time that it’s happened, it’s usually paired with her life being endangered. Not a good feeling.

“Hold on, it’s okay, hold on.” Lena releases her hand, walking away a few steps and taking a deep, steadying breath. “Okay. I can’t - I haven’t worked with it personally all that much, I’m not aware of how it-“

Lena’s voice starts to fade away as she attempts to ground herself and not completely freak out. She sees a couple of people walking in the distance, and oh, crap, what if someone recognizes her while she’s stuck in her own stupid statue because she was stupid enough to stick her finger in it and-

“- freeze breath. Kara?” She snaps her gaze back to her wife. “Did you hear me? I know it has a lot of weird properties, but cold usually makes metal contract. Try that maybe?”

Okay. Freeze breath, good idea. Kara nods, bending down and stealthily puffing out cold air over the general area. She yanks. Nothing.

She’s this close to pulling it straight out of the ground.

Lena sighs. “Figures.” There’s a different group of people walking their way now, and one if them is looking directly at her. Oh, rao.

After about a half an hour, Kara’s taken about a dozen pictures involving herself casually perched up against the statue, hiding her predicament with success so far, and Lena is making a defeated phone call to Alex.

“Hey, can you come down to the Kara statue with the most industrial lube you can - Alex, I’m being serious - Yes, lube. Industrial - Please hurry. You’ll understand when you get here.”

20 minutes and a few more pictures later, Alex shows up, and upon taking in the scene, along with Lena’s exasperation and Kara’s puppy-dog face of embarrassment, laughs harder than she has in months.

Kara is freed within the next minute.

Later that night, Lena can’t help but tease. “Y’know, I could just imagine the headlines, Supergirl Fingers Herself -“ A pillow hits her straight in the face.

“Lena!”

[kittydragondraws]

Dead End

panic attack ensues

rambles under cut

Ads... bootiful

more... waiting

ooh thing happened and it hurts

Nice... beach

aww look at those cubicle

GIRLS

TWINS????

LIVE LADIES LIVE

DINOSAUR

AAAAAAAAH

NO HER BUFFERING FRIEND

BEAUTIFUL GIRLIES

no trauma D:

WHAT THEY CAN DO THAT

FNaF?

ice stance

AWW HE'S BIG!

WHAT THE HELL THEY'RE FRIENDLY

WAMMANA HUH

DOLL JUST DIPPER

OOOUGH ATTACK

SHE FALLIN

WAIT THEY'RE AWARE OF CYN?

omg uzi's so cute

oof ominous face

teaser image :D

how did they not get hurt by the fall

UZI HAS CONTROL OF HER SOLVER FORM

aww they're bird people

N's so silly

claws...

CLONES CLONES CLONES CLONES CLONES CLONES CLONES CLONES

on the other hand male dd references :]

OH THAT'S WHY IS SAID DON'T LOOK

omg tessa's so cute

NO BABY GIRL

why didn't she fight

oh mah gosh no child

COWBOY BABY MENT SOMETHING

WHAT THE HELL WHAT THE HELL WHAT THE HELL

WHAT IS THIS THING

SPIDER BOY

oh my she's kinda coot actually

darkness woman

did that say sister?

oh my god this chick feral

haha magnet

wow she axin

sentinels...?

OH MAH GAH SHE HAS ANTLERS

SHE FRRAL

bro really said valuable

just an oven...

oh my goodness UZI

ooh the w word

NORI WHAT THE HELL

why is tessa there

aww mamby what the hell

why is he not afraid?

oh my god are we gonna get like 100 more worms

oh wow she repaired herself

this chick kinda cool

liam and his wendigos

oh good they live

is this just torture?

haha i'm scared

bot went 0.0

...and uzi?

he siad it haha

wht the hell was on that screen

wait i just realized her eyes are orange, Teacher

woah they look kinda coot

she's just enjoying this

AAAAAAAAAAGH

wait so earth is gone?

so uzi wil die, okay

oh my helling gosh nah

why is she insane

oh no uzi

cowboy baby feels remorse

flashbaning her wont work scrub

httyd moment lol

BLOOOODD

dingoHUMANNA ALLANAH FITZGERALS GO AWAY

oh no stuff is happening

no not cool girl

they're sounds are nice

wll he's gone

haha v

UUUUUHM

CYN

ABS

WHATEVER

STOP IT

UZI'S OKAY RIGHT

wakey wakey....

human blood :D

baby girl

i cannot breathe

they're gonna reactivate

why u red boy

this music kinda nice ngl

i regret every fanfic i've ever watched

bro this song slaps

it's like opera

hehe hiding

my hand is shaking lalala ha ha ha

WAIT WHAT DID HIS SCREEN SAY

DOOOOOOOLO NOOOOOO DOOOOOLLLL NOOOOOOOO DOOOOOL

meh

OH MY GOD THE HORROS

i love her accent

awwwwwww hand holding

noooooo.... YAS

these two are so dumb

guns brandished lady

OH MY GOSH TESSA

oh good god doll is okay

wow she kinda cool

GET OUTTA HERE SENTINELS THIS AIN'T YOUR PLACE

why must they sound so gosh darn cute

WHAT DOES RED MEAN IS DOLL IN CONTROL

my god the boss fight begins

FINGERS DON'T BEND LIKE THAT

these things smart

v gto the killer reflexes frfr

glasses woman :D

N NO

aww she swore

if v dies i'm so gonna cry

smart is the new cool

not the actual hell woman

NONONONONONNO

THIS GOD

I HATE THIS ABSOLUTE FUCKING SHOW

I HATE YPOU I HATE YOU I HATE YOU

[fromtheboundlesssea]

HOTD Season 2 Episode 4 Live Watch Thoughts

I would love if they redid the opening credits of Game of Thrones in this tapestry style of HotD. Love it so much.

Wish Laena and Rhea would haunt Daemon too. They deserve to haunt him.

Oooo Milly should have been wearing dresses like this instead of that awful yellow dress.

Young Alicent should have haunted Viserys.

OH MY GOSH!!!!! He just beheaded her!!!!! I AM IN SHOCK

BLOOD ON HIS HANDS!

“Sad news about the usurper’s son” HE WAS MURDERED

Black goat was ominous.

Oscar! Baby!

King consort? Don’t think that’s the right title.

Aw! Little Oscar looks a little like Rickon’s actor.

Daemon asking a child to kinslay his grandfather. Good lord.

Why is House Tully heads always sickly during a time of war.

DOGS! I think those are Scottish dogs.

Oooooo Alyn and Rhaenys are going to talk!

OH SHE KNOWS?!?!?? She knows now!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Ouch! Ouch! Ouch!

“Your mother must have been very beautiful.” 🫥

WASN’T RELEVANT!!!!!!??????

Let women be more angry!!!!!!!!

No! I wanted Alicent to break it purposefully!

Oh? So Alicent is going to have moontea?

Grand maester is hot, not gonna lie.

Man this is probably the first time Alicent has had autonomy over her womb for the entirety of the show.

Note how the women of color are the only ones who are allowed to want violence for more than a single scene.

Why could you not have at least focused on Jace’s hand on Baela’s that would have been nice.

Why isn’t Jace placed more in charge? He is the crown prince?

How fast are these ships or did Corlys ride with Rhaenys?

Rhaenyra’s council is honestly doing pretty much the exact thing Viserys’ did.

Asking for people to bend the knee without a dragon really does feel less threatening.

And ooooooo Criston being called Kingmaker.

And Criston listening to the man’s last words while taking the head himself. Very Northern of him.

“That castle is more crippled than I am” is kind of funny tbh.

I hate that the Greens can’t be united. Why can’t they be united after the death of Jaehaerys.

Ooooo does Aegon not speak Valyrian?

Also, not Aemond saying something similar to Daemon in the first episode of season 1

So he can speak a little? Just not well?

STAY AWAY FROM HER LARYS!

OH HE NOTICED! STAY AWAY FROM HER!

I am going to reach through the screen and strangle Larys myself.

No you may not be bold, Larys!

Oh, interesting, she’s saying this to Larys. The trailers made it seem she was talking to Otto.

Is Rhaenyra suited? Literally neither of his children showed any suitability for the throne.

“The significance of Viserys’ intentions died with him.” YES IT DID

Man, Daemon is not having a good time right now.

Oh? Aemond?

Oh? Daemon as Aemond? The heck?

Oh, so it wasn’t an American accent?

“Do you now try to make your own claim?” Yes he is.

“A girl child you bounced on your knee.” 🫥

Oh? Is Alys going for him because he looks like Aemond and isn’t sure who she is supposed to be projecting into?

Daemon really is not having a good time. Good lord. This man is getting drugged.

OH THIS IS THE GUY THAT MURDERED SOMEONE ON THE TOUR!

LAENA!!!!!!!

Laena serving as a cupbearer!!!!! I AM SCREAMING!!!

What were the dragons doing before to be fed?

Why isn’t Aemond on the council?

Why isn’t Alicent and Helaena on the council? Didn’t the book say Aegon listened to them?

Is this the same day?

Also, again, this is how Viserys was treated. He didn’t really do much either.

VISERYS WAS HARDLY A KING

RAT CATCHERS THAT KILLED YOUR GRANDSON!

I like that Aegon still called Alicent his mother. I noticed that Jace seemed to stop calling Rhaenyra that.

Why have I seen Gwayne’s actor? Was he in Witcher? He looks so familiar. I’ll have to look it up later.

And now Rhaenyra is back. That took forever.

And yep, Jace is no longer calling her “mother”

Jace is really channeling his inner Daemon.

Was it necessary?

Alicent isn’t queen anymore? She’s the queen mother? Helaena is the queen?

Your caution isn’t weakness, you have literally just not been doing anything.

JACE LACKS THE EXPERIENCE????? SO DO YOU RHAENYRA!

Emma channeling their inner Elsa with that braid though.

Ooooo it’s rather symbolic of Aegon pushing aside his wine thing. Honestly Rhaenyra and Aegon should have been better parallels.

Oh? So Rhaenyra is going to tell Jace the stupid prophecy.

SUNFYRE! Aw, Sundyre loves his rider! That’s so cute!

Jace learning the prophecy (which is about an enemy to the NORTH) would have been great to know before he went there.

The prophecy really is stupid.

Like, it’s stupid. It’s pointless. It’s lazy storytelling at its finest. And we know that it went nowhere because in the show Arya, without a drop of Targ blood, is what destroys the enemy to the North.

Did Meleys’ design change?

Old lady Vhagar about to wake! She is so done with people waking her from her nap.

And I hate that that Aegon going to fight wasn’t planned. Rather him acting on his own decision.

Dang Sunfyre is a sure shot with fire.

I hate that this is the one and only time we will get a Sunfyre. I know that Sunfyre was Martin’s favorite.

And ah, Aemond is doing this so that he gets glory and proves himself more worthy than Aegon. *sigh*

Also, props to Aegon for holding on.

Ugh. So they’re having Aemond be the reason his brother is scarred. *sigh*

This is the battle that was being hyped up? This is the battle? Didn’t people say it was going to be like Battle of the Bastards level? Because…. Yeah no. No it’s not. This is our second “battle” with dragons fighting and it’s not great.

The Field of Fire was also better.

They were hyping up this battle far too much.

I feel sad that Rhaenys died, do not get me wrong, but the whole battle just didn’t feel climactic. I didn’t feel like I was on the edge of my seat in the way I was for GoT battles.

That was a cool shot though, of Criston tapping the soldier on the shoulder and him crumbling.

How they are treating the Greens is what they did with “Dark” Sansa and the stupid Starkbowl, pointless. Utterly pointless.

That was another disappointing episode.

Promo Thoughts

I don’t even know.

I don’t understand what they are doing. And I feel like a lot of people will be leaving after this season. Half of it is over and I feel like we’ve covered very little time at all despite covering so much time last season. It all feels disjointed.

[roxannarambles]

Title: Picnic in Paradise

Ship: Nemona x Juliana

Tags: Pokemon battles, fluff, flirting, pre-romance, action/adventure, 2nd Person POV/Present Tense

Warning Tags: some cursing (english and spanish), blood/injury

Wordcount: 17k

Notes: Set during postgame/has major spoilers for the main story

You're busy making sandwiches and packing a picnic basket in your dorm. Nemona is sitting on your bed watching because the last time she tried to make something in the kitchen, she baked a cake with 2 cups of vanilla extract instead of 2 teaspoons, so she's a bit wary of cooking now.

It doesn't matter, of course; you're happy to pack a picnic. You've promised Nemona you're going to take her on a very special trip somewhere this afternoon to catch pokemon. She's very excited and can hardly sit still, asking you questions about where you're going, but you keep insisting it's a surprise. However, you can only repeat that it's a surprise for so long.

"Gimme a hint at least??"

"Hmmm . . . there are very, very strong pokemon there."

She swings her feet with glee and it's the cutest thing you've ever seen.

"Aw, right! Is it Colonnade Hollow? I hear there's a lot of dragons there."

"Nope."

"Hmm. . . Casseroya Lake?"

"Nope!"

"Huh. Well . . . I know there are some pretty tough water types if you swim far enough out to sea . . ." 

You giggle and say she's never going to guess.

"Okay, give me another clue then!"

You think a moment, then say,

"It's absolutely gorgeous there."

She clasps her hands together.

"Oh, it's gotta be one of the Ten Sights of Paldea then! The Leaking Tower? No, Fury Falls!"

Grinning, you finish bagging up the fruit and tucking it into the basket.

"Nope! You should just give up and let it be a surprise, Nemona."

She balls her hands into fists and stamps the floor lightly,

"Arghhh! C'mon, you just wanna torture me! Pleeeease, Jules? What if I need to pack something special, you know, like a jacket or something? You gotta tell me where it is, it's just practical!"

You decide to put Nemona out of her misery, because it was clear she wasn't going to let up anytime soon.

"All right, all right. If I tell you, you gotta promise to stay cool, though, okay? This is our little secret."

She seems confused about what exactly you mean, but she quickly and loudly agrees,

"Our secret, yeah, of course!" You hold a finger to your mouth.

"Shhh!"

She nods and repeats quietly,

"Our secret."

You glance around a moment, as if expecting there to be someone else lurking in your dorm room-- though with Penny's penchant for spy equipment, it's not an entirely unfounded concern--then come closer to Nemona.

"Okay, so the place we're going to is . . ."

You hesitate, and she watches you with intense expectation. You lean in close to her, just for dramatic effect, and whisper,

"Area Zero."

Nemona gasps, her eyes gone wide. Quickly, she asks,

"R-really? Can we do that? Isn't it still off-limits to everyone unless you have official business there?"

"Well that's where the secret part comes in," you say, amused. Nemona grins, looking both thrilled and uncertain at once.

"Oh my gosh Juliana I had no idea you were such a rebel."

You giggle. The truth is you aren't, not normally, but you know exactly how badly Nemona wants to return to the place, as she talks about it pretty much all the time with such a wistful gleam in her eye. And you were willing to do just about anything to make it happen for her.

Even if it meant bending a few rules.

"Well, the whole place wouldn't even still be there if we hadn't gone down and stopped the Time Machine, right? The shields would have eventually failed and Paldea would have been completely overrun with a massive population of ancient pokemon. So, I mean, we kinda earned a little extra trip down there, don't you think?"

Nervously, she drums her fingers on her knees.

"I . . . guess so?"

You decide to stop pussyfooting around and just be blunt about it with her.

"Okay, look. The truth is I don't think they want us down there because we're students, so they're technically responsible for our safety, yadda yadda, but the place isn't exactly well-watched. Like, at all. Nobody's gonna see us if we sneak in for a few hours. And I get the sense that Clavell and everyone else wouldn't exactly be that ticked off even if they did somehow find out. We are two of the very select few of people in Paldea who are actually more than capable of handling ourselves down there."

You clearly were winning Nemona over, not that you'd expected it to be particularly difficult. She nods and says,

"Yeah, that's true." You go back to the kitchen to finish up packing the picnic basket. As you do, you add on,

"Anyhow, we'll have Koraidon with us and can always bail if we run into any problems. Though with the Time Machine shut down, I expect the population down there has stabilized, since no new pokes are being pulled in."

Honestly, you were almost as eager as Nemona was to see Area Zero again. The time you spent down there had been incredibly rushed and tinged with anxiety over what Arven was going through. But even then, the glimpses you had caught of that hidden garden paradise were spellbinding. You knew Penny had no desire to return, and Arven understandably didn't want to go anywhere near it again. But to you and Nemona, the thrill of adventure was such an alluring siren song.

When you glance up again, Nemona has that familiar gleam in her eye, and she looks as amped up as a Pawmot mid-battle. She doesn't have to say anything more-- you already know-- but she says it all the same.

"All right, I'm in. Let's do it!"

Once you finish carefully packing the picnic and your backpack for the trip, the two of you walk to the outskirts of Mesagoza. It's a beautiful spring day, sunny and warm, with just a few fluffy clouds in the sky and a slight breeze. It's going to be perfect, you realize. You give your Koraidon the picnic basket and he grabs it by the handle in his mouth, like the bestest boy he is, and then you both hop onboard, with you in front and Nemona tucked behind you. You encourage Koraidon to hit the throttle, and then you're off, galloping through Paldea like a couple of trainers on a mission. The thrill of dashing along at top speed on Koraidon honestly never gets old; you love the press of speed against your body, the blur of scenery flying by, the way Nemona cackles in glee and holds onto you so tightly.

When you take an unexpected turn and veer away from the main path, Nemona asks you about it, but you say that you know a shortcut. Koraidon crosses the river in one mighty bound, then goes straight for the curve of the mountainside. You grin, excited and nervous at once, hoping your shortcut would work out all right. Koraidon kind of had a heavier load than usual, but he was pretty good at adapting.

"Hold on tight!" you shout, before the pokemon leaps and digs his claws into the earth, clambering straight up the mountainside. Nemona yelps in surprise and clings tightly to you as you both go vertical, bouncing roughly back and forth as Koraidon bounds and climbs. It was honestly a pretty rough ride whenever you took a mountain like this, and that's why you normally didn't; but you were far too eager to spend a solid hour following the flat paths before reaching your destination. You had plans today, darn it.

Luckily, Koraidon is an absolute beast and he scales the mountain like it's almost nothing. He doesn't even drop your picnic basket. (You make a mental note to give him extra treats later on)

As you reach the summit, you don't even slow down, instead shouting to Koraidon,

"Let's fly, Scarlet! Yip yip!"

He leaps, straight into the vast, foggy void below, unfurling his mighty wings; and as you glide peacefully over the Great Crater of Paldea, Nemona laughs and squeezes you against her.

"The best shortcut ever! You're amazing, Jules."

Your heart skips at the praise; you always get such a fuzzy feeling and a stupid smile when she says nice things about you, but you try to ignore it so you can focus on not flying straight into a wall or anything. You carefully aim Koraidon, squinting at the land below, trying to recall the landing spot you'd used the last time. The strange fog that shrouded the crater is dense and impossible to see through at first, but as you descend, the world below snaps back into focus. You're able to recognize things before too long, and you guide Koraidon to a nice, wide stretch of land to touch down on.

And then you're here again. You dismount from Scarlet and Nemona scrambles down as well, positively beaming. The two of you just take it in for a moment.

There's such a strange feeling to this place. It isn't something you can easily put to words. It feels . . . eerie, almost; the air sort of has this heavy feeling to it. Maybe because it's more humid down here? No, that isn't it. Yes, it's definitely more humid down here, but that isn't the cause of the strange feeling. The whole place, it feels so . . . foreign. The way the sun shines down so brightly from the dense fog above you, perhaps. The way the air almost seems to shimmer with some sort of power. The feeling of . . . some kind of energy, buzzing, like it's at a frequency tickling just below your ability to hear.

Something like that. Maybe it has something to do with all the weird crystals down here. Or all the ancient pokemon, perhaps.

You realize Nemona had sprinted ahead of you and you rush to catch up to her, not wanting to lose sight of her. You find her at the edge of the cliff you landed on, pressed right up against the old, rusted chain link fence as she looked out at the magnificent vista below. You come up beside and join her.

"I can't believe we're back," she says, her voice low and hushed, as if speaking too loud would disturb the peace of this place. She turns and looks to you, and you feel your heart stutter in your chest; it must be something about the lighting here, the way the air sparkles or something, because you've never seen her eyes look so stunning before, like honeyed gold. She's smiling like you've given her the best gift in the universe by bringing her back here.

You cough, desperately trying to ignore your mushy internal thoughts.

"Y-yeah! I mean, that view, it's, it's crazy!"

You aren't wrong, of course. The place is gorgeous. The land here seems to curve and twist downwards into a huge spiral, perhaps due to how the meteor disturbed the earth long ago. It's incredibly lush and green, thick with meadows speckled in wildflowers and trees, and huge waterfalls dropping down into the earth like lacy, sparkling curtains of water and light.

Despite all that, your focus isn't really drawn to the amazing scenery, but rather, your best friend overflowing with excitement.

Nemona grabs your hand and exclaims,

"C'mon, I can't wait any longer! Let's go exploring."

You laugh as she pulls you along, and you head down the grassy path, deeper into Area Zero, with Scarlet following close behind you.

For a while, the three of you just enjoy some hiking through the verdant landscape. Unlike your previous trip here, you're free to take your time now, and you can investigate whatever tickles your fancy. You pass by herds of curious Girafirag and some Raichus, and then find a swarm of Venomoth and Frosmoth enjoying the wildflowers. Further into the field is a whole group of Jumpluff and some Floettes, drifting along on the warm spring breeze. The path curves downward and past a small waterfall, which Scarlet happily stomps through, and then just past that, you run into your first ancient pokemon of the day.

They are several of the strange-looking Jigglypuff. For the most part, they look like the blobby fairy you are already familiar with, but they have long, flowing manes of pink hair that look a lot like ponytails; they also have larger, wilder-looking eyes and little fangs. When they catch sight of you, they bristle and let loose some ear-piercing shrieks.

"Hello again!" Nemona calls, waving at them, as if their shrieks were just a friendly greeting. Outloud, she muses,

"Y'know, they kind of freaked me out the last time, but they don't seem so bad now. I think they actually might be way cuter than normal Jigglypuff!"

You laugh.

"You have interesting ideas on what's cute."

Nemona snorts and nudges you with her shoulder, teasing,

"Says the girl who gushes over every weird bug she finds."

"Bug types are adorable!" you protest, hurrying to keep pace with Nemona and out of the path of the angry fairies. Nemona grins back at you, saying,

"They are. And I love that you made me realize that, 'cause I didn't used to think so, but I do now. Oh! There's more of them. Wow, there's so many!"

You pass by more of the ancient Jigglypuff, which are gathered under some trees, their huge, yellow eyes glaring at you as you walk by. You try to remember what Arven had called them, before. He said he'd gotten the names out of his mom's old Scarlet book.

"Scream Tails, I think Arven called them? It's definitely descriptive, I guess."

"Yeah, it suits them. Oh, Jules, look!"

Just a little further up the path, Nemona spots one of the strange, enormous Volcaronas. You perk up in excitement.

"Ooh! Let's get a closer look!"

Of course, you don't need to tell Nemona twice. You both hurry ahead and draw closer to the huge insect, watching it crawl onto a rock.

It holds its pair of wings closed up tight, which seems so strange to you, compared to a normal Volcarona. You aren't sure if it can even fly with them, to be honest. It's possible the creature is too heavy to be supported by its wings; it certainly looks far bulkier than modern Volcarona.

Of course, even stranger than its wings is the fact that the bug has a spiky green tail and almost lizardlike feet. It goes against everything you know about bug types. 

Nemona asks,

"What did Arven call these?"

You pause a moment to recall.

"Slither Wing, I think."

She nods.

"Right. I never had the chance to fight one the last time, but I remember you said the Sada AI had one? Was it strong?"

You think back to your battle that day and wince.

"Well, at the time, I thought it was a Bug/Fire type, so I sent my Klawf in, but it packed quite a punch with Low Sweep. And my Rock moves didn't seem to be doing supereffective damage, so I suspect it's a Fighting type, weirdly enough."

Nemona's eyes widen.

"Whoa. A Fighting/Bug? That's so cool!"

"Yeah, I know, it's really rare."

Nemona groans.

"Urggh! Coming here is so much fun but it also kind of sucks. I want to catch one so bad!"

You glance to her.

"So why don't we?"

She frowns.

"Because we'd get found out! I'm pretty sure people would notice if we started using super funky pokemon from the stone ages."

You cross your arms and give her a sneaky smile, saying,

"Yeah, but if we caught them and only used them to battle each other down here . . ."

Nemona thinks about this for a second. Then she grabs you by the shoulders, gushing,

"Oh my gosh you're a genius Jules! We can have our own private Paradox Tier down here!"

You laugh and tell her fondly,

"I wasn't gonna bring you here and not let you catch anything. I promised last time I'd help you improve your pokeball throws, right? I'm keeping that promise."

Delighted, she turns back to the Slither Wing.

"Perfect! I wanna start with this guy. I wanna see what he can do!"

You consider things a moment. "Hmm. Let's start with something a little easier, for practice. Then we'll work our way up to him."

She gives a self-conscious grin.

"Ah, yeah, you're probably right. Okay, lead the way, sensei!"

You both hike a bit further into Area Zero, locating a nice, wide open space with a herd of Girafirag. They seem like the best species to practice on down here; pokemon that are too small would be tricky to catch, and so would anything flying, but you also don't want a pokemon that is too dangerous or too skittish. Girafirag seem to fit the bill.

Next, you ask Nemona to throw a pokeball just to show you how she normally does it. After she demonstrates for you several times, you hum,

"Mmmhm. Okay, yeah. I can see the issue. Well, it looks like several things at once. Right, let's start with the basics, then."

"The basics?" she asks, a little bit of anxiety in her eyes. As confident as Nemona normally is, you know she tends to feel a little self-conscious about her throwing skills.

You nod.

"Yeah. Don't worry, I'm sure you'll pick things up fast. A lot of people end up struggling a bit with throwing pokeballs. It's just because their throwing habits from when they were kids tend to stick with 'em, you know?"

She nods, looking a little more at ease with your reassurance.

"Yeah, that does sorta sound like me."

You come close to her and pull out a pokeball, getting into throwing position.

"Ok, so, start by standing like this. Your feet should be this far apart, the same width as your shoulders, see? And your hips and shoulders should be aligned."

Nemona studies you and then imitates your position.

"Ok, check!"

You tell her,

"Good. Stay relaxed, though, bend your knees a little. Yeah. Just a natural stance, good."

You hold your pokeball up and say,

"Next, let's make sure you're holding the ball correctly. You need to hold it with these three fingers."

Nemona laughs a little, asking,

"Wait, really? I can't just hold it like this?"

You check how she's holding her pokeball and shake your head.

"Nah, that's not as effective. I know it seems kinda weird and it might feel a bit funny at first, but this'll make it so much easier once you get used to it."

She gazes intently at your hand and tries to imitate your grip.

"Okay, like this?"

You turn your wrist and show her,

"These two curled behind. Middle finger here, index here. Hold it out here in your fingertips."

She frowns, shifting the ball in her hand.

"It doesn't feel very stable that way, though?"

You pocket your own pokeball and reach out, taking the ball from her.

"Sorry, it's kind of hard to explain verbally. Here."

You take her right hand in both your own hands; she's wearing the black and pink fingerless glove that she usually does, but from the way it feels, you can tell it shouldn't interfere with her throwing. You gingerly turn her hand palm-up and move her fingers into position.

"These two, they're going to stabilize the ball, that's what it rests against. And you want to hold it here, all along here. It's not in your palm at all."

Absent-mindedly, you let your thumb stroke along her long fingers, idly thinking how pretty her hands were. Trying to shake off the brief distraction, you tip your chin up a bit to look her in the eye and ask,

"Um, make sense?"

It's only then you realize just how close you're standing together, hardly a breath apart. Nemona looks at you, but her gaze, which is usually so perfectly steadfast, suddenly seems strangely hesitant. You can't help but notice that her cheeks seem a bit pinker than usual. After a pause, she answers,

"O-oh. Yeah. I, y-yeah, I get it now."

Still holding her hand, you realize you're feeling a tad warm, all of a sudden. You give a nervous laugh and fumble to grab the pokeball back from your pocket.

"R-right, so. Um. Here. Give it a try."

You shift a half-step back to put a bit more space between you two and watch as she slots the ball into position in her hand. She asks,

"Is that okay?"

She turns her wrist for you to inspect her grip, and you beam at her, saying,

"Yeah! That's perfect! Just like that, you got it."

She grins, buoyed by your enthusiasm.

"Great! Do I get to actually throw the darn thing now?"

You laugh.

"Yeah, I think you're ready. Okay, so here's how you throw."

You back off a few paces to make space and swing your arm in a neat arc, demonstrating a few times.

"Here's the wind up, and then, zoom!"

She imitates the motion, and you have her repeat it several more times.

"Good, but you don't want your arm to go too straight. Your elbow should bend a little."

She adapts quickly to your feedback and soon has the basic motion down. You next spend some time directing her on how to step forward during the throw and move her hips, then you work on improving her wrist motion. It takes a little while, since there's a lot of things to focus on simultaneously when they're all put together. But Nemona is attentive and patient, not to mention highly motivated.

After she's done enough practice and seems to have the motions mostly down, you say,

"Okay! I think we're ready to give it a try on some actual pokemon."

Nemona snatches up a pokeball and eagerly follows you back over to the herd of Girafirag. She looks so excited, almost like a kid who is about to catch her very first pokemon, and you find it terribly endearing.

"So we're not gonna try and weaken them, right? Since I'm just practicing my throws."

You nod.

"Yep. Just choose a target and give it a shot."

"Heheheh, okay. Let's see . . ."

You watch as she seems to pick out one of the stragglers in the herd, then cautiously approaches. The tail of the Girafirag perks up and gazes at her warily, before the Girafirag's main head turns to look at her too. Nemona settles into position and aims. Then, she winds up and takes a shot--

The ball sails cleanly through the air and bops the Girafirag on the forehead, pulling into the ball. Nemona immediately leaps into the air and cheers,

"YEAH!! Did you see, Jules? How was that? That looked so much better than my usual throws!"

You laugh as she bounds back to you and you tell her,

"That was fantastic! Great work, my dear student."

She giggles,

"Thanks!"

You hand her another pokeball.

"Here, let's keep going. We should practice until you get used to it."

She goes to throw another ball at the Girafirag while you study her form.

"Good, good. But remember to keep your wrist loose."

"Yeah, okay."

She throws another, this time the ball sailing way past her target. She mutters,

"Whoops, heh heh, kinda overshot there."

Even though it had missed her target, it had been an awfully impressive throw otherwise.

"Dang, Nemona! You've got a heck of an arm on you. You're definitely gonna be great at long-distance catches."

She glances back at you, looking quite pleased with the praise. She asks,

"You really think so?"

You nod,

"Yeah, here, back up a bit, let's see how far you can go."

You have her practice hitting the Girafirag from further and further away, and it doesn't take Nemona long to start hitting her targets consistently. Once she gets used to flicking her wrist at the apex of the throw, she's able to put even more power behind it. You're proud at how quickly she's picking it up, although you're not surprised. Once Nemona put her mind to something, she usually excelled at it.

It seems like she's really enjoying pushing the limits of how far she can throw and eventually asks you to join in, so you both start hucking balls at the Girafirag, turning it into a contest. Although you have more experience and your aim is sharper, she absolutely bests you on throwing distance when compared to your noodly arm.

You watch as she squints, going for another long throw, narrating it as she does so;

"Aaaand . . . there's the windup . . . and the pitch . . . BAM!"

The ball rockets through the air with almost frightening velocity, striking the ground and missing a fleeing Girafirag, but not by very much.

"Yeah! Okay, that missed, but came pretty darn close. This is so much more fun now that I know what I'm doing!"

You laugh, pleased to see her so happy and doing so well.

"You really are improving so fast. Once you're used to aiming you're gonna be a monster."

Nemona flashes you a grin, answering,

"Well, it helps that I have an amazing teacher."

She tosses another ball; you both should probably stop soon, since the herd of Girafirag are starting to grow rather annoyed with your practice session, but you suppose a few more minutes won't hurt.

"Your stance is getting a bit sloppy. Make sure to move with the throw."

"Yeah! Okay."

She tries again, but her motion is still a bit stiff. You come up behind her and tap her hips with your fingertips, saying,

"Here, move from here. We start like this and then swing with the throw, right?"

"O-oh. Haha. Right."

You settle your palms on her hips and gently coax her body with your hands, showing the motion,

"Here, like this, straight, and then swing! Twist the hips."

She giggles as you twist her hips, twisting your own body along with her; her ponytail flutters into your face and you think she smells slightly of vanilla.

"Okay," she says, her tone light and amused. You suddenly feel startled at your own boldness, like your brain has only just now kicked in-- oh god you needed to stop doingthings like this-- and you quickly pull your hands away from her.

"Uh, y-yeah. So. Yeah! Um. Try that out."

You back off to give her enough space. She pauses for a bit, positioning herself, and then steps into the throw very nicely, the pokeball gliding through the air and striking a dawdling Girafirag, before popping back open again to release the cranky creature. You praise,

"Yeah! Just like that, exactly!"

She turns to you with a pleased little smile.

"I think I'm getting the hang of it, sensei."

There's something so playful in her eyes. Ignoring the little flutter in your chest, you nod and say,

"I, ah, I agree! In fact, I think we can call this lesson complete. You've passed the exam with flying colors!"

She pumps a fist, looking as thrilled as if she'd passed an actual exam at school.

"Yeah! Thanks for all the help, Juliana. Seriously, this is gonna make things so much easier for me."

You smile at her fondly.

"Of course, Nemona. Anytime."

You hear irritated noises from the nearby Girafirag and your focus is reluctantly drawn away from Nemona.

"Ah. We . . . might wanna give these guys some space now. I think if we annoy them any longer they might try to trample us to death."

Nemona frowns, answering,

"Oh, right. Hm, I hope they're okay."

As you two leave the herd behind, you say,

"I'm sure they'll be okay now that they have a chance to rest from our onslaught."

She chuckles, saying,

"Yeah, it's the ancient pokemon that gotta worry about us now."

You notice she's rubbing her right wrist with one hand, an unconscious movement you've seen her do before a lot, so normally you'd think nothing of it; however, in the moment it brings a concern to mind. Reluctantly, you ask,

"Hey, um . . . Nemona? We didn't practice for too long, did we? I don't want you to get hurt or anything."

She looks confused for a moment and you gesture awkwardly to her gloved hand.

"Oh! That. No, I'm fine. Just a habit of mine to rub it like that, heh. I'm good, though, it's, it's usually only an issue when it's flaring up."

"Oh," you say, relieved to hear it. Honestly, you've been curious about it before, but it had always seemed sort of rude to pry. She doesn't seem too uncomfortable, though, and after a moment, she volunteers more information, probably sensing your curiosity.

"It's an autoimmune joint problem. Y'know, when your body gets confused and attacks itself?  It makes me tired sometimes, too."

You think back to the times she spoke of Naranja Academy's stairs with such trepidation, and then to all those other little moments she needed to rest when you were out and about, and suddenly you feel a bit stupid.

"Oh. Man. I . . . dunno why I didn't realize that was a chronic issue. Jeez. I'm sorry."

She laughs and shrugs it off,

"Nah, don't worry about it. I don't ever talk about it, there's no reason you'd know."

You reply,

"Yeah, but still . . ."

You pause, both of you quiet a moment. You venture to ask,

"How bad does it get?"

She glances away. It seems like the topic is not her favorite to dwell on, but after a bit, she answers lightly with a shrug.

"It's a pretty mild case, compared to other people. I'm on medication that helps. Doesn't cure it or anything, but it helps control it."

"I see."

You think for a moment, digesting this new information. Quite frankly, you've always admired Nemona's raw enthusiasm and energy, and now knowing she maintained that while also having health issues just made you admire her even more. But you don't want to say it, because you're worried it might come off sounding condescending somehow.

Eventually, while the two of you hike along, you tell her,

"Well, if you're ever having a flare-up and need a break or anything, you can always tell me, ok? Your health's your own business of course, but. You don't have to push yourself for me, is what I mean. You never need to."

It's a bit awkward and hard to explain, but she seems to understand your intent just fine. Smiling gently, she says,

"Sure. Thanks, Jules."

You feel another spike of affection, honored that she's comfortable enough to share this kind of stuff with you. Then something gleams in Nemona's eye, and you glance ahead to see what she's spotted. It's a small group of Slither Wings, crawling among the wildflowers.

You grin, turning to ask,

"Ready to put our lesson to good use?"

She nods, as eager as ever.

Over the next hour, the two of you hunt down and capture ancient Pokemon for your collection. The Slither Wings and Scream Tails are abundant and are the easiest to find and subdue. You have to travel a bit more to find the ancient forms of Amoongus and Magneton, but it doesn't take too long. The last ones are the hardest, and you must venture all the way into the beginnings of the cave system before you can find Great Tusks and Flutter Manes, but once you do locate them, the feeling is quite victorious. The only ancient Pokemon you're aware of that you're missing is the terrifying version of Salamence that the Sada AI had referred to as "Roaring Moon." However, since you both have collected a team of six Paradox Pokemon, you decide to stop your catching session for now. You could spend some other day hunting down the illusive Dragon; for now, you both were eager to spend time with your new partners and see what they could do.

Despite the fact that the ancient pokemon are undeniably very aggressive and harder to tame when compared to a typical wild-caught pokemon, they warm up to you faster than you expect. It seems food is a common language that any pokemon understands, and after some treats and coaxing, you both are able to win over your new friends. For the most part. There are still some occasional hiccups, and you're bitten a few times by the Brute Bonnet (it seems meaner than the others), but for the most part they behave surprisingly well. Well enough for a practice battle, in fact.

Nemona is absolutely pumped for your first battle together with the ancient pokemon, and you both settle on some basic rules beforehand. First, no training past a level cap; you both should be on equal footing here. Second, no items during battle or held items. It would take too long to sort those out, everything would just be simpler and quicker without them for now.

Third, you agree to no move limits. Any TMs you happen to have on hand are fair game, if you manage to teach them in time. You both have thirty minutes to go off somewhere and prepare, and then you'll meet up for the fight.

Those thirty minutes are sheer chaos as you rush to consider the move sets of all your team members and your strategy. The thing about this fight is you know Nemona's exact team-makeup and all its weak points, but so does she. It's kind of weird trying to prepare for that, because in a way it's almost too much information. You scribble notes on a pad of paper (you always had it in your bag; Nemona teased you for being a "boomer" and not using a Notepad on your phone instead, but your typing was always kinda slow and pencils were just easier). Your notes are pretty messy but at least you have a rough outline on your strategies.

Then it's time to battle. Nemona wants the battle to take place somewhere cool, so you guys wander around for a bit before finding a truly aesthetic location: a shallow pool of water that eventually meets up with the cliff face, dropping into a magnificent waterfall that flows down into the deep pit of the cave system. It's gorgeous to look at, and surrounded by soft grasses and trees, Gogoats grazing placidly and Buizel frolicking in the water.

The water is so shallow and tranquil here that you can easily walk into it without even getting your shoes too wet, so you both walk out into the middle of the water pool to stage your fight. The Gogoats and other nearby Pokemon all seem to pause and watch in curiosity; it feels like there's an audience for this unique occasion in Pokemon battling history.

"All set?" Nemona asks, grinning at you from the other side of the water pool. Behind her, the water roars into a waterfall that dips into the shimmering void of the caverns.

You smile and nod.

She reaches down to her pockets to grab her first pokeball, and with a fling, sends out her lead. You do the same, and your pokemon drops to the ground with a small splash.

You've both sent out your Slither Wings, and laugh at the coincidence.

"All right, battle of the bugs, let's go!" You point and shout your command to your new partner,

"Okay, Spike, Flare Blitz!"

Nemona's eyes widen and she issues a command to her own pokemon.

"Slither Wing, use--"

She doesn't get a chance to even finish, as your new pokemon is especially feisty. It cloaks itself in a shroud of flames and goes barreling after its opponent immediately, just breaking into a dead run and charging. Nemona yelps in surprise and her pokemon tries to dodge, but it hardly has the time to even blink before your pokemon crashes into it in a furious fireball. Not that bugs actually blinked.

Nemona crosses her arms, commenting mildly,

"Starting off strong, eh?"

You grin proudly. Her Slither Wing is a dazed mess on the watery ground, and you call for your pokemon to return to your side of the battlefield.

"Good job, Spike! Let's get ready for the next one."

However, you make a mistake. You shouldn't have been so confidant.

Because Nemona's pokemon, despite looking absolutely crushed, still hasn't fainted. You see it struggle on its fluffy little legs, and Nemona helps it back up to its feet. She pets its head, cooing to it,

"Good boy, there you go! Such a good boy. You took that like a champ."

"How . . . how is it still going?" you ask, in disbelief. You hit it with a Flare Blitz, for pete's sake.

Nemona points, ordering her pokemon.

"Slither Wing. Acrobatics!"

You watch as it twitches its tail and then charges, splashing through the water, running faster and faster, until it's only a blur.

"Oh--"

It strikes your pokemon like a bolt from the blue, crashing into it, then turning faster than the eye could detect and smacking into it, again and again. The attack is devastating. But of course, Slither Wing was four times weak to Flying. Not to mention the Flare Blitz recoil.

"Damn," you say as Spike faints and you return it to its ball.

"I wish I had an Acrobatics TM on hand."

You really thought the Flare Blitz would have been enough, but oh well.

"They definitely built these pokes to be tough," she says, as her Slither Wing waddles back over to her, looking quite exhausted. You consider your options a moment, then smile. Choosing a ball, you toss it.

"ChompyMcBiteyFace, go!"

Your Brute Bonnet materializes and Nemona chokes on a laugh.

"Jules, what kind of name is that?"

You stick a tongue out.

"Hey, at least I named mine!"

She huffed,

"I was busy thinking of strategy, not names!"

Well, that was a valid point, you supposed. You sigh, "All right, well. Whatever."

You lean down and whisper your command to the vicious-looking mushroom creature.

"Ok McBitey, Sucker Punch!"

The pokemon readies itself. You look to your opponent eagerly.

Nemona raises a brow, then holds up a pokeball.

"C'mon Slither Wing, that's enough."

You watch as her pokemon returns and say,

"Aaaw . . ."

"Jules, that Sucker Punch was totally obvious, it's not like Brute Bonnet is gonna outspeed."

You sigh,

"Okay, I guess that's true. Can't blame a girl for trying."

You watch as Nemona ponders for a moment, then selects another pokeball.

"Great Tusk, go!" The purple and pink elephant appears on the battlefield, and quickly turns to glare in the direction of your pokemon with its beady, yellow eyes. Nemona mutters an order to her pokemon, and then she gazes across the field at you, looking eager and expectant.

You consider what Nemona's likely next move is. Brute Bonnet has very decent defenses, so she'll have to hit it pretty hard. Of the available options to Great Tusk, it seems most likely it will use its supereffective STAB, so a fighting move. The best it has at this level naturally is Brick Break, but you're betting she taught it Close Combat.

You realize you have the opportunity for a great prediction. Grabbing the empty pokeball, you order your McBiteyFace to return. Then you toss another ball.

"Okay, Fluttershy!" The strange, ethereal ghost materializes, ready to face its opponent. You wait, hoping you've guessed right. From across the battlefield, Nemona nods, telling her pokemon,

"Go!"

The creature charges, crashing through the pool of water and swinging its tusks at your Flutter Mane violently, back and forth, again and again, whipping itself into a frenzy. But its efforts are entirely fruitless. The attacks simply phase straight through the ghost, harmlessly.

You're feeling pretty smug about your successful prediction as Great Tusk meekly returns to its master's side, looking very frustrated about its futile attacks. You call out lightly,

"Okay, so the Sucker Punch was obvious, but you didn't see that one coming, eh?"

She doesn't respond to your teasing the way you expect; oddly, she doesn't seem bothered in the least by it. In an even tone, she answers simply,

"Yeah, guess not!"

There's a funny feeling prickling at your neck. Nemona isn't smiling or anything; her expression is neutral, but you can sense something is off. She's holding something back, at least, that much is for sure.

Ugh, since when did Nemona start learning how to keep a poker face?

You turn to your Flutter Mane. Well, regardless, Nemona's next course of action is pretty clear. She'll have to switch out now; she knows Flutter Mane can outspeed and wipe out Great Tusk with a single Dazzling Gleam. But that's also what gives you the perfect opportunity, and a chance to possibly sweep the entire game.

You lean in and quietly murmur your command to the wispy purple ghost;

"Calm Mind."

Then you look to see what your opponent will do. You know even if Nemona does have Tusk stay in and attack for some weird reason, your Flutter Mane can survive one hit from most of the moves in its arsenal. Maybe not a steel move, but you're pretty sure Nemona doesn't have any Steel TMs in her bag. You're feeling pretty confidant.

But when you catch Nemona's gaze, your confidence quickly wavers. There's something gleaming in her eye, something terribly excited, and all her efforts to keep a straight face are quickly melting away as you watch.

Oh, no, what have you missed?

Nemona points and shouts her orders to her Great Tusk:

"Stomping Tantrum!"

Your Flutter Mane closes her eyes and begins to glow from the effects of Calm Mind, and you struggle to recall which move Stomping Tantrum is. It isn't as bad as Earthquake, but wasn't there something weird about it? Something to do with--

The enraged pokemon tears into your Flutter Mane, trumpeting and stamping so hard into the ground that chunks of earth go flying in its wake. The ghost crumples like a wet paper towel.

Ah. Right. The power of Stomping Tantrum doubles if the pokemon's previous move failed. You remember now.

You sigh, realizing your mistake. You should be annoyed, but Nemona is bouncing in glee and it's impossible to be annoyed with a sight like that.

"How'd you know I'd Calm Mind, though?" you call. You had to teach that move with a TM.

Nemona just crosses her arms, grinning, and says, "You always go for the setup, Jules."

You grumble at that. Guess you needed to switch things up a little.

Honestly, after losing such an important pokemon-- you consider Flutter Mane to be the crux of your team-- you don't feel like your chances are great, but you're still going to give it your best shot. You send out your Scream Tail next to try and handle the Great Tusk. Lucky for you, you get an attack drop with your first Play Rough. Scream Tail can tank the Earthquakes long enough to take the Great Tusk out, which is a good start.

However, your Scream Tail's weakened after all that, and Nemona switches her Flutter Mane in to easily finish it off. You decide to send out your Sandy Shocks next; you know its Heavy Slam can destroy Flutter Mane. Of course, Nemona knows as well, and she switches to her own Sandy Shocks. It's the second time you both have the same species facing off against each other, and once again, you get lucky and outspeed, destroying her Sandy Shocks with an Earth Power. Nemona demands to know why the heck your pokemon are always outspeeding hers, and you joke it's because she can only catch the slow pokemon.

"Oh, I'm getting youfor that," she threatens, grabbing up her next pokeball.

She sends out Brute Bonnet. You tease her she's gonna get you with literally the slowest Paradox Pokemon there is. As fun as it is to joke around, though, it's actually kind of an awkward pokemon for your team to take on. Your own Brute Bonnet doesn't have the coverage moves for it, and you don't fancy the thought of sending your Great Tusk out to take the incoming grass move. But if you leave Sandy Shocks in, it will be toast too. Not to mention Sandy Shocks doesn't have any decent moves for touching Brute. As many weaknesses as the Grass/Dark type has, Sandy Shocks has quite a shallow move pool for coverage and can't exploit those weaknesses.

You spend several minutes puzzling over it, until a possible solution finally occurs to you. You aren't sure if it will work, but maybe, just maybe . . .

Screw it, it's worth a try.

You reach into your bag, pulling out the charged Tera Orb. You and Nemona had already stepped away a bit further from the battle than usual, the moment you'd decided to send Sandy Shocks out, for safety reasons. It really wasn't a good plan to stand in a pool of water while electric pokemon were on the field, after all. However, after considering things, you call out to Nemona.

"Um, we might wanna step even further back. This might get a bit intense."

You both get a little more distance, and then, you fling your Tera Orb as hard as you can.

Watching the Terastilization process is always a treat, but down here in Area Zero, it seems even more dramatic than usual, the energy flowing not just from your Tera Orb but from the air all around you. Your Sandy Shocks crystallizes into an Electric Tera type, and its power seems to pulse from within, glittering and bright. The incoming Giga Drain does minimal damage, thanks to its now pure Electric typing. Of course, you still don't have any moves that are stellar against Brute Bonnet, but it no longer had any moves that were great against your poke, either. It was a war of attrition, now.

To give yourself the best chances, you start off with Electric Terrain. Nemona orders her Bonnet to Thrash, and you wince as the hit connects with your pokemon. You hope Sandy Shocks can last long enough. You issue your order-- Thunder. When the sparkly, Terastallize-powered bolt of lightning comes crashing down on the Bonnet, the resisted attack still doesn't seem to hit anywhere near hard as you'd like, despite all the buffs. This is gonna take a while.

However, lady luck is smiling upon you, it seems, because during the next turn, the Brute Bonnet lets out a shrill cry and struggles to move. It seems the Thunder has immediately struck it with paralysis. Yes!

And then you find even greater luck; when the Bonnet manages to move the next turn, it stumbles and falls, exhausted from the confusing effects of Thrash and the paralysis combined. You're able to clear it out with three Thunders. The method is a bit crude, but it gets the job done in the end.

And then, Nemonafinally makes a major mistake. She sends out her Flutter Mane. It's obvious she expects to clear out your injured Sandy Shocks with just one hit. And it very nearly does. 

. . . but it doesn't quite. Your Sandy Shocks is able to hit her Flutter Mane with a Thunder before going down the next turn. It does a huge amount of damage. Suddenly, you're full of hope. You might actually be able to win this one. You send out your own Brute Bonnet.

Nemona switches to her Scream Tail, taking a hit from your Bonnet's Payback. The next turn, her Scream Tail uses Play Rough and Nemona gets a little of her own luck-- a critical hit. Well, at least the luck had evened out, you suppose. Your second Payback weakens the Scream Tail a fair bit, and at this point, both pokemon are looking pretty worn down.

You have to keep Bonnet alive. It's your win condition. It can finish off the rest of Nemona's team with its Sucker Punch. She of course knows that, though. And you only have four Sucker Punches left to use. She might try to stall you out.

You think for a bit, then decide to switch to Great Tusk. On the same turn, she switches to her Slither Wing. She goes for Acrobatics, but afterward, her Slither Wing falls to your Earthquake. She brings her Flutter Mane in next, and can easily finish off your Great Tusk.

You bring your final pokemon back in, your weakened Brute Bonnet. You have to Sucker Punch.

She swaps out to her Scream Tail, wasting one of your Sucker Punches. You're down to three. The next turn, she must try to attack, because your Bonnet finishes her Scream Tail off.

Two.

She lets her final pokemon back out onto the field. You think you have this in the bag. You tell your Bonnet to Sucker Punch again.

She reveals she has a setup move. She has her Flutter Mane use Calm Mind.

One.

The battle has ended up being ridiculously close. And now, you both are staring each other down fiercely, trying to read the others' mind. Now that electric pokemon moves are no longer a risk, you've both returned to standing in the shallow pool of water your pokemon were using as a battle arena; it made for a rather aesthetically-pleasing backdrop for such an intense moment.

You have two choices; Sucker Punch, or a non-priority attack. If she tries to Calm Mind again and stall out your Sucker Punch, you can use Payback and win. If she tries to attack you, you can use Sucker Punch and win.

It's an absurdly difficult mind game. You aren't exactly a huge fan of really deep mind games-- they feel like they twist your brain into knots-- but Nemona looks like she's having the time of her life. Her eyes are fiery and her grin looks practically giddy; she can't even hold still, bouncing on the balls of her feet.

"What's it gonna be, Jules? Sucker or no Sucker?"

You groan. Maybe if you can get her to talk, it'll help.

"I dunno, mi tesoro. What move do you want me to do?"

She laughs. Outloud, she muses,

"Hmmm, you're probably thinking I'll switch it up and just attack this turn, so you'll Sucker Punch. But I've probably already decided that's what you'd wanna do. So maybe I'll Calm Mind again, and you should Payback. But then again, maybe I've predicted that you've predicted my prediction and--"

"NEMONA, STOP."

She giggles, and you decide to just pick something because it isn't worth this headache. You lean down to your Brute Bonnet, who is looking rather impatient with all this waiting. Quietly, you mutter to him,

"Okay, ChompyMcBiteyFace. It's all up to you now. I want you to use . . . Payback."

When you lean back up, Nemona asks,

"You ready?!"

You nod, trying to look confidant. It's important, because pokemon can pick up on a trainer's nervousness. You give McBitey a trusting smile.

Nemona gestures dramatically and shouts to her Flutter Mane,

"Okay Flutter Mane, GO!"

You shout for your Brute Bonnet to do the same. The little grass pokemon charges with a scream, splashing across the battlefield, leaping at the ghost with all its primal might. Your heart is in your throat as you watch, holding your breath.

There's a bright, almost blinding flash, as Flutter Mane uses its Dazzling Gleam, striking the Brute Bonnet down instantly. He collapses into the pool of water with a splash and a tiny groan. Your heart aches at the sight for a moment, disappointed at your loss and his.

But then, Nemona gives a delighted squeal of joy, and she jumps up and down, splashing in the water, shouting,

"Yeah yeah yeah yeah!!! Flutter Mane, great job! Oh my god Jules, my heart was racing so fast, I had no idea which move you were gonna use, I thought for sure I'd picked wrong!"

And you can't possibly remain feeling disappointed, because that fight was actually superfun and it came right down to the wire and also, good god, as much as you loved how excited Nemona got when she lost to you, when she won sometimes it felt even better. She rushes up to you and grabs you by the shoulders and you laugh; she's splashing water on you but you don't even care.

With her dorky big smile, she tells you,

"Good game, girl!"

You grin and tell her,

"Yeah, thought I had you for a second there, but you're getting better at that poker face. Or just confusing me too much to predict you."

She taps her head with a finger and intones,

"Never let 'em know your next move."

"Pshhh. Getting tips from Arven's playstyle."

Nemona guffaws.

"Aw, now c'mon, he's gotten a lot better lately, actually!"

"Yeah you're right, that was a low blow. Don't tell him I said it."

Nemona takes her pokeball and returns her Flutter Mane to its ball, and you do the same with your fainted Brute Bonnet. After you finish healing up your team, she eyes you excitedly and asks,

"So, ready for round two?"

You laugh. Of course that's the first thing she asks. You blurt out,

"Anyone ever tell you that you're like a Mudsdale?"

She tilts her head, smiling but confused.

"Uh?"

You point finger guns at her, saying,

"'Cos damn girl, you got stamina."

Before it even finishes leaving your mouth you already hate yourself, dear god, somebody shove you into a pokeball so you can hide. It doesn't matter, Nemona laughs at your stupid joke, she is such a merciful friend. You awkwardly add on,

". . . but seriously, I'm kinda starved, I think we should break for lunch."

You glance around to try and spot your giant lizard motorbike friend, which usually isn't too hard to do. He is pretty huge and bright red. You quickly see that he's snoozing under the shade of a nearby tree, having grown bored of watching the battle, it seemed.

Nemona nods, saying,

"Hm, yeah actually that's a good call. I didn't even notice how hungry I was."

Lucky for you two, you packed a very nice picnic lunch. You both retreat to the shade of the tree with Scarlet and settle down on the nice, soft grass. It's such a scenic location that it almost feels ridiculous, like out of a storybook. You can watch the huge waterfall flowing down into the inky blackness of the sparkling caves deep below, and the Gogoats are still grazing nearby in the fields. The trunk of the tree you're sitting under is encrusted in beautiful crystals, which have dozens of shiny faucets that sparkle a rainbow of colors. It's perfect.

You set out all your picnic goodies onto the grass, but Scarlet keeps shoving his face into everything, so you give him a few treats to snack on and then return him to his ball. Then you and Nemona enjoy the bocadillos you packed, soon ending up in conversation about various things; how classes are going, the hijinks that Team Star has been up to lately, the gym leader gossip you've heard about from your art professor, etc. Nemona tells you about these videos online she's been watching of the gym leader battles from Galar and gushes over how their battle format is truly the best one of all the regions, and then she speaks longingly of how she wants to visit there. You both spend some time scheming over when you might make a trip out there together. Then the conversation drifts to various other topics.

". . . okay, and get this. I ran into Professor Raifort in the library the other day, y'know, and she was telling me more about those stories of the Treasures of Ruin she was so obsessed with. And how these ancient treasures were cursed with the collective total of humanity's sins or whatever, and they became these terrifying pokemon that brought destruction and misery in their wake, wherever they roamed, right? She said they were sealed away in some shrines across Paldea with really powerful magic or something."

"Dang. Is it just a legend or . . .?"

You shrug.

"I dunno, you know how myths are, people make the wildest crap up but half the time they end up being right 'cos pokemon are just that weird."

"True."

"Anyway, after she told me all this, she was talking about how she found the supposed locations of these shrines, and these magical stake thingies that need to be located and pulled outta the ground, and then she just . . . flat out told me to go see if I could find them all and pull the stakes out and unleash these ancient, uber powerful cursed pokemon of evil on modern Paldea. Just for funsies and because she thought it'd be cool, and like, what do you even say to that? I mean, holy crap, dude. Talk about unhinged."

"Whoa."

"Yeah. I thought about maybe telling somebody? Like Director Clavell or something? I mean, encouraging students to unleash ancient evils is probably against some rule, right? But I wasn't sure if she was serious or not. It's always hard to tell with her."

"Yeah, that's . . . that's pretty crazy Jules. I knew she was pretty passionate about the history of the Paldean Empire, but that does seem to be taking things a bit far."

"Right?"

Nemona looks thoughtful for a moment, and then adds on quietly,

"Although . . ."

You raise a brow.

"Although what?"

A sneaky little smile overcomes her features, and she admits,

"I mean . . . it would be kiiiinda cool . . ."

"Oh my god Nemona."

"What? You can't deny it, you have to feel at least the tiniest bit curious, right?"

"Nemona, I'm not opening Pandora's Box and destroying modern civilization because seeing a super strong legendary pokemon would be cool!!"

She laughs, pointing out,

"You don't know it would destroy civilization though, you said yourself how much people make stuff up and exaggerate! They might just be really strong pokemon that are perfectly catchable!"

"Yeah, maybe! But also maybe they will kill all the crops, boil the seas, bring about the ten plagues, curse my family and my entire lineage for the next twenty generations or whatever."

Nemona sighs, looking much like a child being told they can't eat ice cream for dinner.

"Yeahhhh . . . I guess you're right."

You finish up your sandwich and grab a section of sliced orange from your bag while Nemona looks lost in thought, dreaming of terrifying legendary pokemon. After a pause, she says,

"Although you do still have that Master Ball Director Clavell gave you, right?"

You hesitate, thinking about the supremely expensive pokeball that was currently stashed in your dresser drawer back at your dorm. She kinda did have a point . . .

You quickly shake your head, sputtering,

"Gah! No! C'mon, Nemona, stop, we shouldn't tempt fate!"

Nemona laughs again.

"All right, all right."

Trying to change the subject, you carry on,

"Anyway, I've been talking too much. I don't think you've even told me yet how your classes are going right now."

You two share several classes but you know she has a few that are different from yours. She answers your question breezily.

"Oh, pffft, well there's not much to report there. Other than my French midterm, there's nothing I'm worried about. It's not like Mr. Jacq's paper has me worried, haha. It's the same exact material as last semester."

You frown, confused.

"Wait . . . you had his class last semester?"

Nemona looks briefly caught out, as if she let slip something she didn't mean to. Reluctantly she answers,

"Uh, heh, well, y-yeah."

Whoa. It's hard to imagine Nemona actually flunking a class, especially if it has anything to do with pokemon. She must have had a rough semester.

You tell her,

"Eh, I've had a class I had to repeat before, there's no need to feel bad or anything."

Nemona smiles sheepishly at you.

"Well, I uh, I didn't really . . . need to repeat it, I got top marks and everything, I just . . . wanted to?"

Your confusion only deepens.

"But if it's the same exact material, then . . . why?"

Her eyes shift away. She answers cryptically,

"Well, I needed to fill out my credits for this semester to remain a student full-time."

You're still not getting it. Maybe Naranja Academy had some weird rules? You came from Unova, so you weren't super familiar with Universities here.

"Okay, but shouldn't there be enough classes for that without you repeating any?"

Nemona fiddles with an orange skin from the slice she's already eaten. With a self-conscious smile, she admits quietly,

"There's not many classes left I haven't had at least once by now."

You stare at her. "Uh??"

She sighs, briefly burying her face in her hands, then looks back up at you.

"Okay, so. I only have like two core required classes left to graduate. I could finish up anytime I want, really. I've been intentionally taking things really slow, padding out my semesters with a bunch of electives and sometimes even repeating classes."

"Okay . . . but why?"

She leans back against the crystal-encrusted trunk of the tree you're sitting under. Heaving another sigh, she says,

"Mmm. I dunno. I guess mostly because . . . I had no idea what I wanted to actually do once I finished school, you know? When I became a Champion a few semesters back, things felt . . . kinda empty after that. My professors and La Primera, they all encouraged me to pursue a career as a Gym Leader or an Elite or whatever, of course. Sounds perfect, right? But I wasn't actually sure if I'd enjoy it. Gym Leaders have to deal with a ton of inexperienced trainers, you know? And while I do enjoy mentoring trainers, it's maybe not what I want to spend all my time doing?"

She pauses, before continuing,

"I really craved a challenge. Like, a really, truly good challenge. I wanted somebody who would push me to my absolute limits and make me strive to be even better. I knew there had to be someone or something out there who'd do that for me. Or at least . . . I hoped so? So. I . . . was kinda just spinning my wheels for a while at school, trying to find something that would satisfy that wish, I guess."

You ponder that. It's definitely something you can relate to. You also struggle with knowing exactly what you want to do with your life after you finish school. But it's honestly surprising to hear Nemona had felt the same. To you, it always seemed like she had everything figured out in her life.

Your friend nudges your shoulder and gives you a little smile.

"And after I met you, well. I finally got to fulfill that wish. I'd found my best friend and rival for life, someone who could meet me at exactly where I was and push me to be even greater. And I made other amazing friends this semester, too, and had so many incredible experiences. God, it makes me so glad I waited. It feels like the pieces are starting to come together, finally. I'm still not exactly sure yet what I wanna do in the future, but . . ."

She trails off. Glancing around at the idyllic scenery, she grins and jokes,

"Well in this exact moment, I kinda just wanna stay forever down here in super cool ancient pokemon paradise with you."

"Oh," you say, your face heating up. Returning to her train of thought, she concludes,

"But, yeah, I decided I'm going to pad out my remaining semesters long enough so I can graduate at the same time you do. And then we can finish together."

She says it so simply, like it's a logical, easy thing to do, but you're overwhelmed with emotion. She wants to wait for you. She's this incredibly talented trainer and person who could probably go anywhere and do anything in life, because she has the drive and the skill, but she doesn't want to do it unless you're there with her.

You emit a little squeaky noise, trying to push through the thoughts tangling up in your brain.

"N-nemona that's . . . I don't know what to say, that's . . . th-thank you? That's so incredibly sweet and. You don't have to do that--"

She takes your hand and gives it a squeeze, her smile dazzling as she tells you softly,

"Of course I don't have to. I want to."

You're certain that you're bright red by now, and you desperately try to get the language centers of your brain working again.

"I-I-I, uhh, I-- t-thank you, Nemona."

She giggles, clearly endeared by how flustered you are.

"No, thank you. Seriously. You've done so much for me. You've been such an incredible friend and rival. And you're always so sweet and so generous. Like, look at all this! You brought me out here and arranged all this, too. Taught me how to throw pokeballs, packed this amazing lunch-- I don't think I've mentioned yet, those bocadillos were phenomenal? You been taking lessons from Arven or something?"

You glance away, confessing,

"W-well, I, kinda asked him to let me borrow some Herba Mystica from him for today . . ."

Nemona gives a little gasp.

"Really? That explains it. But jeez, Jules, why'd you go through all that much trouble? I would have been fine with just some plain 'ol ham sandwiches or whatever!"

"I wanted today to be special," you say, firmly. She deserves something special. She deserves super amazing trips and all the fun stuff. That's why.

You . . . also possibly have a few ulterior motives tucked away in the back of your mind that have to do with making it feel sorta kinda possibly like a date, but you aren't gonna say that part outloud.

"Well, you definitely succeeded there," she say, and oh, the expression she has was going to melt your heart to goop, a blobby little happy puddle of Goomy. Your thoughts stop working for a bit, but you have a vague sense that you're forgetting something. Something . . . to do with today's plans?

"Dessert!" you suddenly blurt. At Nemona's startled expression, you add,

"Sorry, heh, I, I got something special from Cortondo's pastry shop!"

She looks immediately eager.

"Ooh, really?"

You dip into the picnic basket and pull out the paper-wrapped goodies that had been tucked in the far back.

"Bizcocho de Limón," you say, handing her one.

"Made with their special olive oil. I haven't tried it yet but Katy was going on and on about how much better the olive oil was when compared to using butter."

Nemona unwraps the paper, not wasting any time and biting into the soft lemon cake.

"Nmmmhhh," she groans, not leaving any ambiguity about whether it was a hit or not.

"I'm going to assume that means you like it," you chuckle. She swallows the bite and gives you a grin.

"This really is the perfect day."

Her nose is dusted with the powdered sugar from the cake and you can't keep a straight face, sniggering.

"What?"

"You got a 'lil somethin' . . ."

You reach out and gingerly try to brush the sugar off, but it's only smudging it around, and halfway through the act you end up getting lost in her eyes. All those sappy thoughts you'd been trying so hard to suppress are back, and your heart kicks up speed.

She's gazing at you, with the sweetest of smiles, and she's not looking away. You think perhaps you've stopped breathing. Almost imperceptibly, you start lean closer; or perhaps she leans closer to you? Time seems to slow down to a crawl.

There's a strange sort of growling noise from behind you. You notice it, but only vaguely, and in the moment you don't really stop to think about it.

The next moment, all is chaos.

Something enormous erupts, almost as if it was from the very ground you were sitting on, crashing between you and Nemona-- you hear a loud, splintering crunch that you only later realized was the sound of your picnic basket being crushed-- and your arm is caught up in the motion, a sharp, white-hot pain of your skin being torn. You barely have enough time to gasp for breath and try to process what was right beside you: the body of some kind of creature, bright green and purple, four limbs that are long and sinewy, and claws. Big, curved, purple claws.

At this point you have processed your most imperative task:

Run.

You struggle to clamber to your feet, Nemona doing the same, and start to run. A quick glance back and you see enough to realize the pokemon looks like some kind of giant cat, like a lion or something. It's briefly hampered, apparently struggling to shake the shredded remains of the picnic basket off its face--

Oh. Its teeth. Those massive, curved purple thorns on its face are teeth. Like some kind of saber tooth tiger.

You utter a curse and keep running. The pokemon spits out the last bits of picnic basket and starts to pursue you, quickly picking up a loping run. Its strides are long and you know it will catch up to you soon. You needed your pokemon.

You glance back again, trying to spot where your bag ended up in all the chaos. You can't see it anywhere, but you see Nemona's bag, sprawled open in the dirt near the tree you'd been under, its contents spilled all over. You couldn't get to it, the tiger was closing in on you.

You trip during your frantic search for your bag, tumbling painfully to the ground. Your heart drops to your stomach. You twist and try to get up, but it's too late. The pokemon is a mere few feet away now, snarling, approaching you in a stalk. Its eyes are hot pink, its pupils narrowed into slits; its ears are flattened and it's bearing wickedly-curved purple teeth.

Your pulse is pounding in your ears, and once again, time seems to slow to a crawl.

"¡Oye! Get away from her, you tonto del culo!"

You glance up. Nemona isn't far away, but it's clear she didn't have the time to recover her pokeballs and she looks terrified for you. You realize you're probably going to die. You try to think of something meaningful to say in the moment, but your mind is utterly blank.

Nemona reaches down and picks up a rock, before shouting again and chucking it with all her might at the creature. The rock beans the tiger right across the head, hard. It gives an outraged scream, quickly turning to face her.

"Yeah, that's right! Leave her alone, come get me, cabrón!"

You're horrified. You cry out,

"Nemona, it's going to kill you!"

She ignores you, still taunting the tiger and sidling slowly to the right, trying to lead it away. It's stalking up to her and you don't know what to do, all you know is you can't stand by and watch your best friend get disemboweled right before your eyes. You're about to charge forward, but in the split-second before you do, Nemona suddenly dives to the ground. You think it's just a last-ditch effort to evade the beast, but then you see her throw something she's recovered from the ground. 

There's a familiar sound, and a pokeball bursts open. Her Great Tusk materializes.

You want to sob in relief. Nemona shouts,

"Tusk, Close Combat!"

The precious moments when the tiger is distracted with Great Tusk do not go to waste. Your friend immediately climbs to her feet and darts away, going through the mess of her bag to locate where her other pokeballs had rolled away to. You want to rush to help, but first you need to give the pokemon a wide berth to avoid getting caught in the crossfire.

As you run, the Great Tusk charges into the saber tooth tiger with all its might, trying to tear into it with its tusks. The tiger is surprisingly resilient, though, and strangely doesn't seem to take much damage from such a powerful move. It retaliates, biting down on Great Tusk's soft underside, sinking its purple fangs deep. The elephant gives a pained shriek.

Fortunately, Nemona has recovered another pokeball, because Tusk faints almost immediately after that. She shouts, "Uh, go!" and flings it, obviously not sure which pokemon it is.

Her Scream Tail immerges, and you think to yourself that it's a stroke of luck. Scream Tail was pretty bulky, so it should last at least a little while. Nemona orders it to use Play Rough. By now, you've been able to move around the battling pokemon and reach Nemona. You want to hug her, but you know now was Not The Time, so you just call out tersely to her.

"Nemona."

She looks up, then rushes to you. She pushes a few pokeballs into your shaking hands.

"H-here. I'll look for the rest. I don't know where your bag went, I think it might have gone over the cliff, so hopefully my team'll be enough."

As she runs off your attention is drawn back to the battle; it seemed Scream Tail's Play Rough hardly did anything. The tiger swipes at the puffy pink fairy with its long claws, and Scream Tail seems to deflate like a balloon. You realize the clawmarks embedded deep into Scream Tail are oozing with a purple liquid. You mutter,

"Oh, shit, right. It's a poison type."

Grass/Poison, from the looks of it; its limbs, which had seemed so muscular and sinewy, seemed to in fact be made of entwined vines, and its fluffy fur is embedded with dark leaf patterns. Its ears are large and triangular and they extend down to its face almost like a mask, in a way that reminded you a little of Meowscarada.

In fact . . . as it narrowed its pink eyes and glared at you, you realized it looked a lot like Meowscarada. A really jacked, beastly, saber-tooth tiger version of one, at least.

Scream Tail's fainted form returned to its pokeball, and you threw another. Flutter Mane appeared, graceful and serene even during such a terrible situation. You tried to think of what moves it might have that would be useful. You weren't gonna mess around with any Calm Minds, you needed to get some damage off.

"Uh, Mystical Fire?" you try, and Nemona's Flutter Mane responds to the command. It turns and descends upon the tiger, creating a huge curtain of flames to crash down upon it. You watch in relief as the tiger flinches from the attack, the flames singing its leafy fur and limbs-- finally, some actual damage. You shout for Flutter Mane to use Mystical Fire again, but the tiger leaps into the air and slashes the ghost with its claws before it can react. There's a crisp, sharp noise, the familiar sound of a pokemon landing a critical hit, and Flutter Mane goes down.

Damn. This thing was tearing through Nemona's team like it was nothing. You throw your other pokeball, sending Brute Bonnet out to face its fearsome opponent. You're not sure of its full moveset, and you shout,

"Brute Bonnet, just hit it as hard as you can, give everything you've got!"

The feisty mushroom pokemon turns and rushes headlong into battle. As fast as it can, anyway. The top running speed on its little legs wasn't exactly the greatest. The tiger chomps down on Brute Bonnet before it can do anything, and you cringe in sympathy. Bonnet counterattacks as hard as it can, flailing back and forth as it uses Thrash. The tiger roars in anger and slashes at it, and then down it goes, as fast as all the others.

What level was this beast? You feel a cold sense of dread creep in, pondering that question. All you'd been able to do so far was buy a little time. You flinch in pain and rub your arm, feeling a sticky wetness, and glance down. Oh right, you'd been injured in the initial attack; your arm was still a bit torn up and bleeding, although at least the cuts didn't seem to be too deep.

You look back up when you hear the tiger growl, and, oh crap, you're out of pokemon to throw at it. That's not good.

Fortunately, Nemona returns once more to rescue you, right on time. It seems she had to wander all over to recover her supplies, because she's on the opposite side of the angry tiger as you are. She has her bag, though, and a pokeball in hand. Brightly, she calls,

"All right Sandy Shocks, let's go!"

The weird, primitive form of Magneton lands on the ground, its parts spinning and whirring. It's hard to believe your lives might depend on this goofy-looking pile of magnets. You call out to Nemona,

"I think it's Grass/Poison, it has some kind of biting move and a poison move-- Cross Poison? Poison Jab? Not sure, that's all I really know! It's KOing most things in just one hit!"

"All right," she calls back, not looking discouraged by this report. Pointing to her pokemon, she orders,

"Let's even things out a bit. Sandy Shocks, hit 'em with Thunder Wave!" The little collective of metallic creatures spin and point their magnets, building up energy, walking along the ground in a strange wiggly gait; then they fire a weak beam of electricity, zapping the growling tiger. You feel relieved that the beast finally has a status condition on it. Hopefully it would slow it down.

"Now, Earth Power!" Nemona commanded, as the tiger turned to face its new opponent. You could see Sandy Shocks building up energy for the special attack, the power building between its three heads; before it can get the attack off, though, the tiger lunges, and it bites down hard on the primary head. It certainly doesn't seem like biting is something that would work on a creature made of metal, but the metal of Sandy Shocks must be different, somehow-- it was a Ground type, after all, not Steel. There's a gross crunching sound and the three heads vibrate and shriek, their eyes rolling around wildly, and it seems to take massive damage. Your brain struggles to figure out why-- what move was it using? Ice Fang? Surely you'd see the ice, then?

Despite the damage, Sandy Shocks does not perish immediately, and it manages to finish powering up its move; the ground around it and the tiger distorts and shifts and shakes violently, before bursting open with the attack, lava boiling out. The tiger seems to take a really solid hit, but Sandy Shocks does faint from the aftermath.

Nervously, you call to Nemona,

"Uh, how many pokes do you have left?

Like you, she had brought some of her usual partners on this trip as well, not just her new Paradox team. You hoped she had managed to recover those too. Nemona pulled out a pokeball from her pocket and gave you a weak smile. She said,

"Um . . ."

You curse under your breath.

"Seriously?"

She shouts back, "I think some rolled off the cliff along with yours. Look, it's fine, we can make this work!"

You're not so sure about that, from the looks of things. But Nemona throws the ball, sending out her last pokemon-- Slither Wing. Sounding full of confidence, she commands,

"Okay, Slither Wing! If this is Grass/Poison, let's go for an Acrobatics!" The ancient bug pokemon flaps its wings and dashes towards the tiger, preparing to strike. Before it can hit, though, the tiger slashes at it viciously, ugly purple streaks of poison marring its fuzzy body. Fortunately, this doesn't bring the bug to a stop; Slither Wing counterattacks, slamming into the tiger again and again at intense speeds, ruthlessly. You watch with hope gleaming in your eyes.

When Slither Wing is finished with its assault, the tiger looks very bruised and worn down. Giving a strangled cry, it bites into Slither Wing's hide, trying to stop its attacker. Slither Wing flaps its wings furiously and struggles in the tiger's grip. It looks as though the bite isn't doing too much damage, but the poison is slowing Slither Wing down by now.

"I don't suppose you have any heals left?" you tensely call to your friend.

She shakes her head. Ah. That's . . . not the best. Nemona hasn't given up, though.

"Let's give him a taste of his own medicine, Slither Wing! Leech Life!"

 You watch as Slither Wing battles to wriggle free from the tiger, stirred by Nemona's commands. It somehow manages to slip free from its jaws, then it turns and latches its buggy mandibles onto the tiger's neck. The tiger roars and jerks, but it seems paralysis is finally slowing the monster down. Slither Wing drains some of its lifeforce, feeding itself. It's obvious Nemona hopes to preserve the longevity of her last pokemon this way, in lieu of any potions.

"Good work, Slither Wing! Let's go for another Acrobatics now!"

The ancient moth releases its foe, looking a little rejuvenated, despite all the poisoned scratches on its body. You start to think Slither Wing may actually have a chance of winning this. It seemed it was a very stubborn bug.

The moth prepares its next attack, backing up a little so it can get a running start against its foe. Judging by how tired the tiger looks, you're guessing this could very well be the finishing blow of the match.

Slither Wing charges, emitting its strange, gurgling cry, wings flapping furiously. You can't look away, and hope this will finally be it . . .

. . . but it isn't. Despite the paralysis, the tiger is able to rouse itself once more. And before Slither Wing can strike, the tiger lashes out with an attack. But this time, it was a new attack. There's a dusty white cloud of smoke that's whipped up from the action, and the tiger leaps up and smacks Slither Wing around with its paws, over and over, without even using its claws in the process. The move looks very familiar.

Oh, no. Play Rough.

After the tiger is finished batting the moth around, it's clear the poor thing has fainted. The pokemon dissolves into energy, returning once more to Nemona's pokeball. You can't believe it.

"Son of a-- this thing is nigh invincible!" you shout, disgusted. Even after all that, it was still going!

The tiger's magenta eyes dart to you when you shout. The pupils narrow to slits and it growls.

"Oh, for fuck's sake--"

Battered, beaten, and paralyzed, the saber tooth tiger from hell is stalking towards you, still with pure malice and rage shining in its beady eyes.

Trying to keep your voice calm, you call out,

"Uhhhh, Nemona? You sure you don't have any pokemon left?"

You can see she's digging through her bag, but she looks frantic. You can hear her muttering,

"No, no, no, no!"

You start to back away, wondering if there's anything nearby you could run to. Some rocks, some trees. This thing could probably climb trees twice as fast as you. It was no use.

The tiger is bearing its purple fangs at you, and they're dripping in poison. You suppose they'll soon be clamping down on your neck.

You hear Nemona suddenly cry out.

"Wait! Wait, yes! Oh my god, Jules, hold on! I'll save you, I've been training for this moment!"

You're confused at first, because she pulls out a pokeball, and you thought she'd run out of pokemon. But then it hit you; she has an empty pokeball. Oh, of course. Why didn't you think of that sooner?

You watch as she carefully takes aim at the distracted tiger. She has a perfect back shot from her position. She takes a calming breath, then swings her arm, stepping smoothly into the throw, and sends the ball soaring. You watch the nice, clean arc of the ball sailing towards the tiger, flying, and then--

The ball thwacks a rock right behind the tiger with a loud crack, shooting off into a random direction. You hear your friend's high-pitched shout,

"Oh, jodete! Oh, shit!"

If the situation wasn't so dire, it would have been funny, honestly. But as it was, the tiger quickly turns around, angered at having things flung at it, apparently. It snarls and begins stalking towards Nemona instead.

"Nemona, look out!"

She was busy grabbing a second ball. To your horror, the tiger is stalking faster. Much faster.

"It's OK I got it, hold on--"

She's taking aim with the ball. The tiger crouches, performing a little butt wiggle that looked remarkably similar to when your Purrloin was about to pounce on its toy. Oh, oh no. No, no, no!

You break into a dead run towards them, not sure what to do, but you have to do something.

The tiger roars, leaping, paws outstretched, at the same time Nemona stumbles and falls backwards, flinging her pokeball, screaming,

"AAAAAAA!!" A bright flash of light and the tiger dissolves into a puddle of energy, which is sucked into the pokeball. The ball drops to the ground, its center button lit red.

 You both stop perfectly still and stare, breathlessly, as the ball wiggles.

Once. Twice.

Thrice.

You wait. The seconds feel like ages.

And then, in the stillness of the air, there's a tiny but unmistakable 'click.'

For a short while, neither of you speak, and instead just stare dumbly at the pokeball on the ground. Nemona had landed on her butt on the ground, and so she sat there, eyes wide, catching her breath, staring. Eventually, her eyes lift up to yours.

You take a shuddering breath when she meets your eyes, suddenly overwhelmed, your throat tightening as you rasp out,

"Oh my god Nemona I was gonna be so mad if you got yourself killed for me."

You rush up to her, helping to pull her to her feet, and she's smiling and laughing, what was wrong with her, how could she be laughing? You pull her into a fierce hug, the unshed tears stinging your eyes. Nemona's voice is muffled against you as she says,

"I'm so sorry, I thought that was gonna be heroic as heck, with me swinging in to save you and I just end up being a total dweeb and missing!"

You quickly pull back so you can face her and demand,

"Why are you apologizing?! That was heroic, that was the most heroic crap I've ever seen! You ran up to a beast like that and threw a freaking rock at it like it was nothing! And then everything else? I didn't even think to try and catch it because my brain had blanked out so much! I would have been dead without you!" After your outburst, Nemona smiles a bit bashfully and answers,

"Heh, well I guess it wasn't bad. I'd do it again, y'know."

You stare at her. Your heart's still pounding from almost having a tiger maul you to death-- or almost mauling Nemona to death instead. You feel a little sick.

"This is all my fault," you realize aloud. Sounding concerned, Nemona asks,

"What do you mean?"

You look at her and say emphatically,

"All of this. Oh, god. I was such an idiot. I just wanted this to be a perfect day for us. Planned it all out so carefully. But I should have taken the risks more seriously. You could have died. I-I . . . I'm so sorry. N-nemona, I . . ."

The tears are running down your face as you speak, and she reaches for you, saying,

"Hey, hey, hold on now, Jules."

When she touches you, you give a tiny sob, and she pulls you into a hug.

"Shh-shh, hey . . . take it easy, okay?"

You break down, crying into her shoulder while she soothes you, soft words of comfort as she rubs little circles into your back. You always thought Nemona was like an electric-type, so bubbly and energetic; but now you think she must be made of pure steel, to walk away from all that still smiling.

Her voice is gentle as she tells you,

"We're okay, it all worked out. Don't be so hard on yourself, all right?"

You try and utter a protest, but it comes out all whimpered and nonsensical against her. She continues,

"Look, I can't say that was my favorite encounter with a pokemon just now, but I certainly don't blame you for it. Every trainer knows there are risks to going outside and seeking out pokemon. That's just part of the deal."

You suck in a breath and finally get out,

"Y-yeah but-- I-- I was the one who convinced you to come down here--"

She interrupts gently and says,

"I wanted to. I'm gonna be real honest with you, Juliana, if you hadn't invited me down here, I would have snuck in alone sooner or later. I had been planning to for a while now."

You choke a laugh and say,

"Nemona!"

"I know, I know. I don't always make the best decisions. But I'm telling the truth. It's actually pretty good that you came down here with me, because I probably would have ended up as cat food without your help. Okay, more like definitely. I wouldn't have nailed that second pokeball throw, at any rate."

You pull back from the hug and try to wipe your face on your sleeve without it getting too gross. You tell her,

"Please promise me you won't do that anymore, just go off on your own like that. I care about you too much. Tell someone, tell me at least."

At first it looks like she might object to your request, but then she seems to consider it more seriously. After a moment, she smiles softly, answering,

"Okay. Okay, I promise. If I get the itch to go do something stupid, we can do it together. Or reconsider the plan, if it's way too wild."

You hug her again, saying,

"Okay. Thank you. I promise I'll do the same. And we'll be a little more careful next time about trips to forbidden zones full of ancient unseen horrors."

Nemona laughs.

"Okay. Fair enough."

After a few moments, you add quietly,

"I'm still sorry our day got ruined like that, though."

She answers you breezily. 

"Pffft! Are you kidding me? This was still the best day I've ever had."

You lean back a little from the hug, still holding onto her, and say in exasperation,

"Nemona--"

But when you see her eyes, you realize she isn't kidding. She isn't kidding in the slightest.

"What? Everything was amazing. The trip out here, the gorgeous views, the hiking, teaching me to catch like a pro, the battling? Just hanging out and talking? And that picnic, oh, man! It was perfect, Jules."

You laugh, completely at a loss for words, at first. Eventually, you shake your head, saying in a fond tone,

"You really are something else, Nemona."

She chuckles and answers confidently,

"As if you don't feel the same. I know you had just as much fun today."

You snort another laugh, but then pause to consider it. Now that the imminent danger is over with, and Nemona is safe and sound in your arms, well. The terrifying ordeal doesn't seem so bad, anymore. You think back over the entire course of your day with her.

Quietly, thoughtfully, you muse,

"Yeah. I guess you're right. It really was perfect."

Nemona grins, saying,

"Yeah! Exactly."

After a beat, her smile turns into something playful. You both have still been in a half-embrace, and she slides her hands down your arms a little more, tugging you just a bit closer to her.

"My only regret is that mean tiger didn't let us finish dessert."

You blink and it feels like your insides turn in a dizzy little flip-flop. After a nervous giggle, you manage to reply,

"Don't worry. I'll buy you more next time we're in Cortondo."

Looking very pleased, she says,

"I'm gonna hold you to that."

You nod,

"Please do."

There's a few moments of silence, and Nemona still has not let you go, and your thoughts are just buzzing happy static, and you begin to wonder if perhaps you should try to--

"Oh! Uh, gosh, let me get my first aid kit out for your arm. Jeez, I forgot about that," Nemona says, and you're so confused at first, until your lagging brain finally remembers that yes, your arm did kind of get a bit torn up and bloody. You feel briefly and irrationally angry about your stupid arm being distracting. Stupid tiger.

"Also I guess we'd better get to work finding the rest of our pokeballs," Nemona adds as she digs through her bag. You blink.

"Oh. Yeah. Ooof."

You're not looking forward to it. If your bag really did drop off the cliff, it could be . . . damn near anywhere down there in the massive cave system below you.

"Hey," Nemona says, pulling you from your thoughts. You look to her. Gently, she tells you,

"Don't worry. We'll find them. We've got the scariest tiger around to help us out, right?"

You chuckle weakly, then reach down to pick up the pokeball from the ground.

"Yeah, that's true."

Nemona helps you clean off the dried blood and disinfect your wounds and then dress them properly. Fortunately, it seems you just scraped your arm up on the ground in the madness, and the tiger hadn't actually gotten its claws into you. If it had, you'd probably be much worse off, considering how toxic that beast was. When you're finished, you two begin your search for your lost items. First, though, you hand Nemona the tiger's pokeball. When she gives you a curious look, you say,

"Well, you caught it, right? He's technically yours. Or she."

She laughs.

"I guess so! I'll have to think of a proper name."

"Hmm. Maybe something like 'Hellcat?'"

Nemona agrees the name sounds perfect.

After a quick confirmation that your supplies are nowhere nearby, you both begin your descent to the Area Zero caves. It's definitely unnerving to be traveling around without a proper pokemon team as backup, but Nemona did find a single revive buried in the recesses of her bag, and you spotted and gathered a good pile of berries along the way. So you weren't completely and totally helpless. Obviously, if your searches end up being fruitless, you'll need to hail a taxi (Nemona still had her cell phone) and get help. An unappealing scenario, since you're pretty sure Director Clavell was going to be pretty upset.

However, something amazing happens. Maybe it was to balance out all your foul luck with the tiger attack. You and Nemona have barely even entered the mouth of the cave when you hear a familiar draconic trill echoing through the space. Then Scarlet is bounding right up to you, your bag hanging from his mouth by the strap. You're stunned at first. Scarlet drops your bag in front of you and starts licking your face, looking extremely happy that he found you.

"Didn't you return him to his pokeball? I don't understand," Nemona says, petting the giant dragon. You pick up your bag. It looks a bit beat up, but otherwise is intact. You look through it, and find all of your pokeballs and stuff are in there.

"Well. He knows how to come out of his pokeball on his own," you think outloud.

"He does?"

"Yeah. He used to do it all the time when Arven made sandwiches. He must have sensed something was wrong, when my bag fell off the cliff."

"Wow. What a smart boy!" Nemona praised, rubbing under the dragon's chin as he cooed happily.

"When it fell, my stuff probably went all over, I had my bag zipped open. It looks like he went around and put all my stuff back into the bag," you say, noticing how some of the potion bottles looked as though they'd burst open and a few other things were roughed up. It must have taken him a while. Dang, Scarlet really was the bestest boy in the world.

"And I have no idea where the bag fell, but it could have been anywhere in these caves-- Scarlet probably had to wander for a while to find his way out! He probably remembered how to get around from before. Oh, man, Nemona, look!"

There were extra pokeballs in your bag. A quick check near the button showed that they had Nemona's engraving on them.

"He found your pokeballs too! Oh, my god, I was so worried, and he did everything for us."

You immediately hug the feathery dragon, giving him a kiss.

"You're a hero, Scarlet! Man, you are getting so many treats for this."

You and Nemona check all your pokeballs to confirm that everyone is accounted for and safe.

And then, it's surprisingly easy after that. You both decide it's probably enough adventure for one day, climb aboard your dragon, and stroll your way out of there without a care in the world.

By the time you've made it back to Mesagoza, the sun is setting on the horizon, and you're starting to feel a little worn down from the day's activities. You and Nemona decide to stop at a food vendor and grab some badly-needed dinner. You eat at a table in the main plaza (Scarlet with his own kebab as well), inhaling the food and talking about ancient pokemon, mostly just your wild speculations about the past and what the Professor Sada AI had found there. When you're finished, you two ride Scarlet up the rest of the stairs and then return to Naranja Academy.

It's really only when you start walking through the halls of the school that exhaustion truly starts to catch up to you, and when it hits you, it hits hard. You had run around a ridiculous amount today and had some pretty intense moments, so it only made sense, really. You can see Nemona's as tired as you are. No longer running on pure adrenaline and now after a heavy meal, it was a pleasant but full-bodied sort of exhaustion. You both chatter about silly subjects as you pass through the halls of the dorm building. Nemona tells you about last year when the school had Slowpoke Races, and from her dramatic re-enactments, it sounded like it had been an amazing thing to witness. Or Nemona was just really good at telling a story. You suspected the latter.

And before you know it, you've reached Nemona's dorm room. You have both already agreed it was time to just get some rest, but there still is a disappointed pang in your chest when realizing you now had to part. Nemona gets the key from her bag and then turns to you, hugging you and moaning dramatically,

"Juliaaaanaaa . . . I'll miss yoooou . . ."

You giggle and say,

"I'm going to see you again tomorrow."

Muffled against you, she says,

"Oh. Right. Well. Okay then."

You laugh again. She releases you and grins.

"Still. This . . . this was literally the best adventure I've ever had. So . . . thank you for inviting me."

"Of course," you say. She looks so happy, and your heart feels light as air.

"And I . . . hope we get to have another adventure like that really soon. Maybe minus the scary pokemon trying to eat us thing, but you know what I mean," she says. You nod your head.

"Absolutely."

Nemona continues to hang there, looking reluctant to actually enter her room. She's gazing at you in a way that makes your knees feel weak. Which is pretty much just always. For the thousandth time, you think about telling her, finally telling her about your massive crush on her. Just say it. Just ask her if . . .

"Well," she finally states, awkwardly,

"Um . . . goodnight!"

You feel like you've just missed your chance at something really important, and your heart lurches in your chest as she unlocks her door.

"W-wait, Nemona."

She turns.

"Hm?"

She looks at you, and your thoughts are screaming. Say it. Say it. Just say it.

"N-nevermind," you mumble, like the world's biggest coward.

She chuckles and squeezes your shoulder.

"Get some rest, Jules. We're both pretty out of it by now, I think."

You nod, rasping,

"Yeah."

When you get back to your dorm, you don't really feel like thinking anymore. You take a long shower and make some chamomile tea and climb into bed, to scroll mindlessly through social media for a while and give yourself a chance to wind down for the evening. It doesn't take long for the drowsiness to settle in, but you delay actually shutting your lights off. Despite all your efforts, your thoughts are still churning, keeping you awake. Time gets away from you. Eventually you realize it's getting really late, so you plug your phone in with a sigh and turn out your lights.

A few minutes later, your phone buzzes with a text. You check it.

It's from Nemona.

hey I've been thinking, I'd like to give you Hellcat

Your brow furrows and you gaze at the text for a second before typing out a reply.

Why?

You watch the little elipses flash as she composes her message.

well I never would have caught them without your help! it could be my thank-you gift :) for everything.

You sit there, thinking. Or trying to think, anyway. Exhaustion has started to erode your ability to do so. And you're still feeling pretty disappinted at yourself from chickening out earlier when talking to her.

Suddenly struck with inspiration, you type out,

how about we share them? we both worked together to catch them, so it makes sense.

After a brief pause she responds quickly.

omg jules

you're so smart. that's perfect.

we can raise them together <3 <3

well mayne not 'raise'

more like 'tame' haha but you know whati mean

it's probably a two-person job anyway tbh lol

Deciding you need to be a little more honest about your feelings, you respond to her,

yeah, exactly.

plus its a good excuse to spend more time w you

After a few beats, her message pops up.

haha what?? you dont need any excuses jules, you know you're always welcome at zona nemona

You type out your response quickly.

yeah. well. yeah thats true.

guess i still look for excuses

my mind's kinda been in the nemona zone 24/7 lately

ahaha

You stop and stare at what you just sent, and the regret is instantanoues. Not that honest, not that honest! Oh, god.Maybe she wouldn't notice?

Nemoma's reply is short:

24/7?

You want to scream. You try to compose a reply. How do you backpeddle on something like that? Maybe you should just come clean? No, this was a terrible way to do it. But, it's better then nothing. Still, maybe you should--

You're still trying to compose a reply when Nemona texts,

that's a lot!

Your fingers hover over the keyboard, your sentence only half-complete: I was just

Thirty seconds or so later, she texts,

i don't think even my mind is in the nemona zone 24/7 and im nemona, haha

You feel like it's getting harder to breathe.

jules

are you still there

Okay, for god's sake, just say something! Anything! You erase your old message and start again.

sorry

sorry I

I just mean I've been really enjoying spending time with you and I think about you a lot and. sorry if that came out sounding weird.

Ok, that salvaged it. Possibly. You hoped.

A minute later, your friend replies,

no, dont worry, it wasnt weird

I've been really enjoying our time together too

and

I think about you a lot too!

almost as much as pokemon battling, haha

Your heart skips at her final message. It was possible she was just joking around, but it didn't seem like it. It . . . really didn't seem like it.

You type out:

wow. that's like probably the biggest compliment I think you could give me

Nemona replies right away.

asfhgk

cmon jules

if that's what you think, well

be prepared, cos I'm gonna give even bigger ones in the future ;)

Okay, you weren't sure before, but now it seemed pretty clear, this was not a drill, Nemona was genuinely flirting with you. Right? Yes??

Your heart picking up speed, you tell yourself: okay, okay, don't mess this up. be cool. You carefully compose your next messages.

oh? I'll be sure to prepare myself

but I also gotta be sure to live up to the hype

I could start by taking you back to Cortondo for more Bizcocho de Limón

so there aren't any more rude interruptions

we could sit at the watchtower nearby

it's kinda crowded in town, but it's nice and peaceful at the tower

You sit and wait in tense anticipation.

sounds good to me

i look forward to it <3

..and I'm sure you'll live up to the hype :3c

You get a big stupid grin, feeling triumphant. She continues,

g'night for now, jules

see you tomorrow

Laying there in bed, with the glow of the phone lighting up your smile, you answer her.

gnight, mi tesoro

[luveline]

hi jade! i hope you're having a good day. i wanted to request reader breaks a mug or something and accidently cuts herself but she's scared of blood so emily patches her up and comforts her bc i am in need of comfort rn and your writing always cheers me up <3

hi! tysm ♡

"Emily?" you call, panic sharp in your voice. "Em! Can you come here, please? I need help." 

A thunk. Hurried footsteps and Emily appears in the kitchen doorway, laundry basket still in her hands. "What did you do?" she asks worriedly, sliding the basket onto an island. 

"I dropped your Steelite mug, I'm sorry, I cut my hand–" 

"I don't care about the mug!" She sidles up to your side without fear of blood like yours, taking your hand into hers delicately. You turn your head and neck as far away from it as you can, the sting of your cut a blaring alarm in your head. Blood dribbles hot between your fingers. 

You don't know why blood scares you so much, even when the cut is small, but it always has. You feel sick at the idea; the reality is worse, your pulse like a hammer struck under your ribs. "Is it bad?" you ask, almost yelling. 

"No! No, it's not bad, don't worry." She rubs your arm. "You don't have to look. Come to the sink." 

Emily walks you with care to the sink. Your breath comes in quick pants no matter how hard you try to calm down, hand shaking hard in her grip. "Hey, it's okay," she says, "you're panicking, but you don't need to. You don't have to see it. I'll cover it up." She nudges you. "It's like you don't trust me to take care of you." 

"Of course I trust you. I just– I saw the cut happen, it freaks me out seeing it–" Split open, you want to say. You nearly gag instead. 

Emily shushes you gently, drawing your hand under the faucet as she turns it on. The cold water stings at first, but soon you feel the temperature more than the pain. She leaves you for a moment by yourself to retrieve her first aid kit, a fairly substantial box of sterilised bandaid and disinfectant from atop a kitchen cabinet. 

"Alright, hold still. I'm gonna spray it. Don't seize up, it's not that bad!" she says, laughing sympathetically. You wince as the spray makes contact with your cut, and again when she dabs your small wound. "I'm sorry." 

"Please hurry." 

"Okay, jeez." Plastic tears. You squeeze your eyes closed tight as she places a square of gauze against the cut and wraps it tight with a cotton bandage. "Tada!"

You peel your eyes open reluctantly. Emily drops a hand on your shoulder, then her cheek, the tip of her thumb rubbing the unbroken skin just below your cut. Your hand shines with damp, but not a speck of blood remains to be seen. 

"See? All done. Does it hurt?" 

You shake your head, giving your hand an experimental squeeze. It twinges, but it doesn't hurt. 

Blowing out a breath, you bend slightly under Emily's weight. "Oh, my gosh…" You press your face into her shoulder, forcing her to hug you. "Thank you, Em. That was… queasy." 

Emily kisses your cheek, your chin, and the very corner of your mouth. "You're welcome," she says, her nose pressed to your skin.

You pull apart to offer your hand. She takes the hint, planting a soft kiss atop your bandage. 

[itsshizyne]

GUYS THE HOUSE OF THE DRAGON SEASON 2 TRAILER IS OUT AND I HAVE SO MUCH TO SAY OMGGGGGG

Of course this is from what I saw, it was dropped about half an hour ago so if you guy’s noticed anything else please feel free to share your views or findings :)

Contains Book spoilers so Proceed with caution!!!

—————————

• First of all, I have to say that every single person who we saw in the trailer looked SO GOOD!!!

• WE HAVE AEMOND TARGARYEN CRUMBS YESS HE LOOKED SO GOOD!!!! (fanfic writers & artists it’s time to open your notepads and get that content down!!!)

• I couldn’t help but notice how sad Aegon looked with the crown on his head, it seems like he may be regretting the war (although he did not exactly declare or cause it) or perhaps it is after the events of B&C

• WE ARE GOING TO SEE RHAENYRA ON THE FRONT LINES I CANNOT WAIT!!!

• DAEMON IN HIS ARMOUR 🤭

• BAELA ON MOONDANCER OH MY GOSH I CANNOT WAIT TO SEE MY GIRL IN ACTION!!!

• Alongside that we also saw a glimpse of granny Vhagar on what it seems to be a battlefield (the battle of Rooks Rest is gonna be so interesting to watch as a book reader I cannot wait!!)

• I noticed we did not get a lot of the new Dragonseeds or Cregan Stark, perhaps they are keeping that disclosed for the time being but I cannot wait to see how they are in the show.

• We see a lot of individuals being executed by both Daemon and Criston Cole , I believe they are individuals who did not bend the knee to Aegon or are traitors to Rhaenyra.

• I have noticed we also get a lot of lone shots of Alicent, perhaps this season will allow us to see a lot of Alicent’s own sense vulnerability during the war.

• The Hightower army alongside Rhaenyra’s banners and Army seem to be off to battle…THE BATTLE AT ROOKS REST IS NEARLY HERE PEOPLE!!!

• I caught the small glimpse of Helaena as she seems to be restrained by someone…I’m not ready to see Blood & Cheese in action and I know it will definitely cause A LOT of pain 😕

• I also noticed that we see Alicent being escorted to safety in kings landing during chaos (as a book reader I do think it might be during Jaehaery’s funeral)

• Also…DID I NOTICE THE BLACKWOODS OR AM I DREAMING????

Overall, I am so excited about the new season guys and I am prepared to defend Rhaenyra and her war crimes 🫡🫡🫡

[bubblessunshinehoney]

Day 14- Housewife Kink with Steve Kemp

18 + only! NO MINOR INTERACT

Kinktober masterlist

A/N: hey guys, i have to repost all of my 18 days of Kinktober for now. Because my account got suspended last night. Many of you might have read them already, and maybe many more of you might read it for the first time. I'm not someone who asks for reblogs, likes are find by me. But for this one time...i would be very grateful if you could reblog it. To help me go back in the game. I'm sad that i lost all my works. But so grateful i wrote them on Word... Or i would have lost literally months of prepration.

So yeah, Hi again, i'm back, hopping to get back my first account.

Enjoy,

Cloudy

Don't be shy to comment, reblog or like! :)

TW: due to the movie fresh.... dead dove inside, do not open. oral (r-receiving) p in v (wrap it before you tap it), mention of blood and torture...duhhhh it's from fressshh

not beta read, english is not my first language, all mistakes are my own

Cleaning the knifes, getting ride of the blood, put the rest in the freezer. It was your day to day basic. But for Steve, it was the most beautiful thing to see in the world.

You’re wearing an apron, this dress that looks coming straight the 50s and you’re humming. Steve comes out of the basement and just with one look he’s hard.

“Oh, my wife”. You giggle, fuck that sound coming from you…it’s something.

“Well, I cooked a roast, my dear husband”, he groans, and you smirk. He’s so easy. This morning you kidnap another poor girl and tonight you’re cooking him a roast. Anyway, life is great.

“Steve, honey, can you grab me the ricer for the potatoes?”. He nods and has to pass between your thighs, under your skirt, he could scoot you away, but he doesn’t want that, he wants to smell you, taste you, so he passes under your skirt and instead of going to fetch the ricer and kisses up your legs and kisses your covered pussy. “You have white panties on”.

“Because I know how much you love when they get see through, my dear husband.” He growls, licks on your covered clit and admire the tissue getting transparent. You try to not squirm to much, you know he prefers when you’re docile, quiet and doing the little cute noise, like this little whimper when he sucks on your clit.

He stands up behind you, holding your skirt and flushing himself against you. “Does my wife want her husband to fuck her while she does the mashed potatoes?”. “Yes, please”

He pushes your panties to the side and rubs his hard cock between your slicks. “You were amazing this morning, how you took this girl, gosh, my perfect wife.”

“I had too, she was hitting on you…”, he chuckles at that.

“That’s why I love you.” He pushes the head in and you moan quietly, like he loves. You try to mash the potatoes but it’s getting hard to focus, his dick going to kiss your cervix. His hands get on top of yours and he helps you. “My little wife getting already all dumb-dumb?”

You giggle and nod, “You know I will when you’re balls deep inside me.”

He kisses your neck and cups your breast. “Such a good wife. Let me taste these mashed potatoes.” You give him a spoon full of it and he moans in your ear, making you clench. Then, he makes you go to the sink. “Now, do the dishes while you keep me warm”.

You make a show out of it, putting the gloves on and you take the bloody knife, stroking it.

“I think the clients would be happy with this one.” He strokes your hips.

“Like they always do when you choose them”, you hum and rubs against him.

When you’re done with the dishes, he guides you to the centre island and bend you over, some blood getting on your dress. “Oh, Steve… my dress, I didn’t finish to clean here”.

“It’s okay, my sweet wife, I’ll clean you up after, I’ll buy you a new dress”. He starts to fuck you slowly and you moan just a bit louder but still with tenderness.

“Steve more…fuck me harder.” He groans and gives you what you want fucking you hard, and you clench around him.

You both say “I love you” when you cum. And you can hear the scream of terror from the poor girl who wakes up without her leg in the basement.

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