#he is me and sycamore's husband

[madimuffin75]

Gonna throw my oc x cannon on here because, Lysandre and Pokemon XY haven't left my brain since the Pokemon Legends: Z-A teaser trailer was released. X and Y was my first pokemon game and I could not be happier now that its making a return.

As for my oc, her name is Professor Cypress! A professor from Galar who's moved to the Kalos region. Working alongside Sycamore in her studies on the potential and origins of aura!

[smash-or-pass-laytoncharacters]

[nathanbatemanfucker]

Sycamore Part 1: Along the Deep

summary: Frankie had said that your home was the perfect place to lay low; a small cottage nestled between the Alaskan sea and forest.

pairing: Santiago Garcia x fem!reader (Eclipse)

wc: 2,415

warnings: not sfw/minors dni/18+, strangers to lovers, eventual smut, mentions of canon typical violence, mental health issues (ptsd), addiction mention, food mention, internal angst, pining

an: its good to be back! hoping this series will propel me forward and get me writing more consistently. can't wait to hear yalls thoughts, and as always thank you for reading <3

sycamore masterlist

Santi’s running, headed to a place he’d never dreamed of setting foot in: Alaska.  It isn’t an unfamiliar feeling–running is his forte– but this time around he truly feels like a failure. This time, he’s running because it's life or death and with the loss of Tom, Santi finds himself yearning to live. He had to make this grief burrowing in his chest worth something, and he was grateful to do it in the face of a stranger.

Frankie had assured him that you’re calm and collected. But, Santi didn’t know who you were– had never heard of you before this moment. He felt it was fair to have his doubts.

“Who is she?” Santi had asked once they had touched back down in Florida.

“Childhood friend. She served and seen as much as we have. I’known her longer than I’ve known you,” Frankie had explained.

Any of those doubts that lingered in Santi’s mind crumbled and were lost to the wind as he continued driving down the windy Alaskan roads. He’s surrounded by rows upon rows of trees. Frankie had said that your home was the perfect place to lay low; a small cottage nestled between the Alaskan sea and forest. Sunlight is endless this time of year and the salty coastal breeze bathes everything it touches.

He knows he’s in the right place once his tires hit gravel. The driveway stretches on a couple miles and he feels his heart rate increasing, palms slick against the leather steering wheel. This isn’t a test, this isn’t something he has to get right. All he has to do is mind his own business, keep his head down– something he does with the people that care so deeply for him day in and day out. 

The house comes into view, sand and sea as its backdrop. You are not what Pope expects– neither is the house. You’re sat on the porch swing waiting for him, a book in one hand, a mug in the other. The word that comes to mind isn't one he uses often, but you are distinctly lovely. You look so relaxed, in a pair of cutoff overalls, hair up and framing your face. The house is white and rustic, and the porch wraps around it entirely.

Pope exits the car, treating you to an awkward wave. He doesn’t understand why his knees feel weak, but it could be your intense gaze. You wave back at him with an easy smile. You look welcoming, like a woman waiting for your husband to return home. But he has to remember, he doesn’t have a home anymore, that he hardly knows you even though he already likes everything he knows about you. He’s nothing but a man who bounces from place to place, contract to contract, there isn’t room for him here. 

“Need some help?” You call out to him as he heads towards the trunk. 

“I’m alright,” He says, not unkindly. 

You stay put on the swing, sliding a bookmark between pages to save your spot before you wrap your hands tightly around your mug of tea. He’s more handsome than he was in the pictures, but there’s something in his step, in the way his shoulders slouch that tells you whatever he’s just experienced has changed him.

Frankie wouldn’t tell you much besides that they’d had a big job in South America that had gone awry. They’d lost a friend– a brother, Tom who’d you seen pictures of before. You hadn’t pressed for details knowing that the more you knew the more at risk all of you would be. 

But, from the lost look in Santiago’s eyes as he trudges up to the porch, you know it had to be heavy. A loss deeper than he’d ever known. 

He holds out a hand to you, words rushing out of his mouth in an unfamiliarly clumsy way, “Santiago. Santi. Or Pope, I don’t know.”

“Santiago. You can call me Eclipse.” You say, taking his hand and shaking it firmly despite the current that seems to follow between the two of you. You brush it off, standing and gesturing towards the house, “Let me show you your room.”

He continues to be surprised by you. The inside of the house is simple, all cream and light wood and house plants with small pops of color. The couch is large and fluffy with a colorful patch quilt on it, taking up most of the living room space. There’s lots of black and white art, even a set of twinkly lights in the kitchen. 

You lead  him into what seems to be a never-ending hallway, showing him the bathroom he’ll use, where closets are, your room. He notices that you neglect to tell him what’s in the room beside the one he’ll be staying in and the curiosity that’s been bubbling inside him overflows.

“What’s this room?” Santi asks, his voice strangely polite. He doesn’t want to offend you. The only thing he really wants right now is to know more about you. He points to the closed door between the large bathroom and his room for the next two months.

He notices your body stiffening, and for the first time since the two of you have met you look guarded. Secretive. Your eyes are wary as you answer him, “My art studio.”

Santi’s fascinated, you’re even more mysterious now. He’s thrown by how taken he is with you, how his knees feel weak and not from all of the bullshit he’s but him through. This pull he feels is different than usual, complex and genuine. He wants to unravel you, but unlike his usual habits of leaving when it’s all said and done, he would put you back together. He’d be drowning in his fear if he wasn’t so hungry for the knowledge of you. 

“The art’s yours?”

Your face warms, but you shrug, brushing off his…wonder. That’s what you identify; he’s marveled by you. “Living up here, I had nothing better to do.”

He opens his mouth to say something, but you quickly cut him off, not wanting to discuss your art in depth– it isn’t yet what you want to be. Something has always been off, always been missing. 

“Are you hungry?” You ask quickly.

“Starving, actually,” He says sheepishly, his mouth pulling up into a soft smile. 

So handsome and so broken, you allow yourself to think for just a moment.

“Get settled, I’ll heat up some food for us.”

“Thank you, Eclipse.”

“Of course,” You say easily, like this choice of you inviting him into your home took no thought, no effort. Like you’ve known each other for multiple lifetimes. 

 As he watches you walk down the hall, he finds himself wishing that to be true. 

With  plenty of stew in the freezer, you preheat the oven to bake some potatoes. While the stew heats, you prep the potatoes, chopping them into small cubes and coating them with an herb mix. It’ll only take them 20 minutes in the oven, enough time to throw together a fresh salad with vegetables from the garden and warm some rolls.

You hear him shuffling down the hall about 15 minutes later, and when he appears he’s changed into a white t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants.

You allow yourself a single glance at him as you stir the stew, quickly forcing your eyes away from him, “Drink? I’ve got water, soda, coffee, tea. Matcha.”

He raises an eyebrow, looking a little disappointed, “No beer?”

“I’m sober. 3 years.”

Santi has to force his expression to stay neutral. You’re sober like Fish. He wonders what your vice is, how you made it to this point. It was hard with Frankie, a fight every step of the way but one he’s dedicated to helping win. 

“I have ginger beer,” You offer when he stays quiet.

“I’ll take it.”

He can see it clear as day, how good for Frankie you’ve probably been and will continue to be. Frankie may not know it, but you’ve  been taking care of him in your own way for a while now. He’s described you to Pope as a younger sister, familia through and through despite losing each other for a while. Santi wonders just for a moment how you’d  treat a lover, his eyes roaming your body. The thoughts are whisked away by the crack of a can, and you slide  it over to him. 

“Thanks,” He croaks, his cheeks warm from his thoughts. 

If you notice you don't mention it, quipping back with another soft, “Of course.”

A comfortable silence settles between the two of you, and he takes a seat at the sturdy wooden table. He tries and fails not to watch you move around the kitchen. You’re incredibly graceful, floating around the room as if you’re on a cloud. You get the salad on the table along with some plates in perfect timing;  the oven dings just as you turn towards it.

You’re a machine, just like him. Just like Frankie, and Benny and Will. Like Tom was. And yet it seems like it hasn’t plagued you the way it has all of them as you plate up dinner and sit across from him. This little life you’ve built, even if he ‘s just gotten a glance of it seems peaceful. He wonders if he could be whole in a place like this or if that’s just wishful thinking he’ll never verbalize. 

“What made you move out here?” He asks softly after several minutes of silence marked by the sound of forks on plates. 

“Solitude suits me,” You say simply.

Santi knows that’s not true. With how easily you welcomed a stranger here, the second nature of you fixing him a meal. He doesn’t push, its not his place.

“I guess I’m ruining that for you then.”

“Francisco trusts you. So I trust you.”

Trust, not solitude. You need safety and instead of finding it in people around you, you find it in yourself. Santi sees you a little clearer now– sees that this isn’t a sanctuary, it’s a fortress surrounded by water and sand and sycamores to keep everyone out.

“That’s why you don’t live in town?”

“I can’t– the guns,” You explain gruffly. “I need to know where they are and when they’ll fire or it gets– bad.

Oh. 

He gets it. He hasn’t experienced it himself, his body’s still in this flight mode, but he can imagine what happens when it’s been turned off and then triggered. He’s heard the stories, though he files them away in a box in his head, never to be touched again. Or so he thought, until he met you. 

In a strange way, you remind him of himself–even with all the work you’ve done he sees you as guarded, though less closed off than he is. Just like him you crave  organization, and belonging, though it seems like your versions are much more poetic than his. More than ever, Santi feels like the scraps of belonging he had with his men is out of reach with Tom gone. Everything’s jumbled and off balance, and now they’re left to figure this out again. Like it wasn’t hard enough the first fucking time. But here…it feels like he could start to. Like he could do it properly. 

The sun is finally starting to set when you finish dinner, and Santi insists that you stay put and let him clean up. When he gets all the food scraps in a pile you head out to put them in the composter and give the plants one last little sprinkle, though the coastal spray was probably enough. As always you find yourself staring into the abyss of the ocean, eyes captivated by the crash and fall of blue hues.

He watches you through the kitchen window, slowing down his methodical movements so that he can spend more time simply looking. There’s no purpose, no quota he must fill in being here with you unless he truly wants it. And right now the only thing he wants to do is look, and look and look at how beautiful you are. 

With the dishes done he follows after you, standing awkwardly on the porch. Santi looks down at his feet, as if the answer to the question in his head rests upon them. But as if you’ve heard his silent steps, you look back at him expectantly and his eyes rise to meet yours. Your mouth raises just a fraction of an inch, he wouldn’t even count it as a smirk, but it pulls the question out of him, “Do you mind if I join you?” 

You  just beckon him on and his feet move without thought, listening to your siren call. You sink further into the sand as he nears you, burying your feet and resting your head on your knees. et. He kicks his shoes off before joining you, keeping his legs straight as he leans back into his palms. The sand is cool and scratchy against his calloused hands. You stay like that as the minutes go by, the sun sinking further and further into the sky.

It looks half submerged in the ocean, its golden hues reflecting off the dark water, when you finally speak again, “I’m gonna head in but you should stay a while. It’s an experience, watching the sun leave the moon alone.”

He hums noncommittally as you rise to your feet dusting the sand off your body. “Thank you for letting me come here. Especially without Fish.”

“Fish,” You repeat, laughing softly. You hardly even glance at him when you say, “You never have to thank me. Goodnight, Santi.”

Winded, Santi can only nod and you both avoid eye contact as you pass him, the moment already feeling charged enough. He likes it though, being on edge about something other than a mission or objective. Your jury’s still out, but she can’t deny what you’re feeling already. 

“Goodnight,” He calls after you once his voice returns.

When you make it to the door you turn to look at him; there’s a pull, an invisible string wound between the two of you. Slowly, you commit this scene to memory so that you can start painting it. You’ve found a muse in him and how long has it been since you’ve painted in color?

He stays there to watch the sun leave the moon, thinking of you the entire time. 

> Part 2: Juna's Bloodshed

taglist: @sylviantree, @whatthefish, @marc-spectorr, @mccn-bcys, @toracainz, @xbellaxcarolinax, @reallyrallyauthor, @missdictatorme, @lesbianhotch, @campingwiththecharmings, @veritable-trash, @ivystoryweaver, @iolaussharpe-24, @aria725, @hana-hanako, @kingtwhiddleston, @for-a-longlongtime

[spookshollow]

Dinner and a Dance

Jonathan Crane x Reader

A/N: I thought of this while I was listening to dream a little dream of me by Ella Fitzgerald and Louis Armstrong. And plus I am so obsess with Jonathan Crane from the the dark knight trilogy lately and so I made this.

Masterlist

You had a very stressful day at work and didn't left work until 6:30 that evening. Mentally cursed yourself as you forgot to get some take out for you and Jonathan as you made it to the driveway of your shared home. But was so tired, 'Maybe once I'm inside I could ask for home delivery, Probably get a pizza' You thought as you slowly walked up to the door and opened it.

You were then taken by surprise by a delicious smell of food coming from the kitchen and 1950s love songs playing from the living. You didn’t want to disturb your husband from his cooking so you softly closed the door behind you before then placing your coat and bag on the couch,

"Oh My Love! How's was work, you were late home" I heard from behind me.

I turned around to see my handsome husband Jonathan Crane, wearing a simple black long shirt and black jeans, he was leaning against the doorframe of the living room, I didn’t say anything, but the silent response answered his question, "oh. Work was bad was it?" I slowly walked over to Jonathan and gently hugged him as he invited me in his arms.

"It was just so annoying, especially some of my co workers. But I'm happy to be back at home with you" I said as I slick back Jonathan's hair feeling his soft fluffy hair.

He then press his lips soft against mine before pulling away smiling "well luckily I made you dinner. Hope you like spaghetti?" I smiled wide and nodded my head, I then walked over to the kitchen to looked at the food and it's smell so amazing "here have a seat my love, dinner is getting ready".

You both finished dinner as you both sat in the living room drinking the wine you both had for dinner, just then as you both were relaxing a beautiful song you love started to play, Couldn’t help yourself you got up and asked Jonathan to dance with you as he accepted with a smile you love so dearly as you both sway to the music as you softly sang.

Stars shining bright above you

Night breezes seems to whisper, I love you

Birds singin' in the sycamore tree

Dream a little dream of me

He then gently spun me around before going back to just swaying back and forth, looking into each other eyes lovingly.

Say Nighty night and kiss me

Just hold me tight and tell me you'll miss me

While I'm alone and blue as can be

Dream a little dream of me

Then to my surprise he lean his head to my ear and softy sang the next part with me

Stars fading but I linger on dear

Still craving your kiss

Now I'm longin' to linger till dawn dear

Just saying this

"I love you so much (Y/N)" no matter how many times he say those words. It still make your heart swell with just love for this man in front of you as you held his face, and lean forward our lips barely touching and before I closed the gap between each other "I love you too, Jonathan, forever and always"

[elelcomplains]

Perfectworldshipping: an extremely unnecessary rant from a guy who's 10 years late to the party

The thing with perfectworldshipping is that Sycamore is color coded with Xerneas and Lysandre is color coded with Yveltal and I'm not the only one seeing things right???

Like

You don't color code someone without a meaning as a general rule, so like

What were they on????

No like, seriously, am I going insane because I miss my toxic doomed yaoi? (Yes)

But please, consider

The whole thing with Xerneas giving life (and also representing it) while Yveltal gives and represents death and then their palette is also seen on those two buffoons.

And while they don't necessarily represent life and death per se (you could very well argue that Lysandre and his genocidal tendencies kinda do but that's not where I'm going), the coding still gives them a uh... peculiar (to say the least) symbolism.

Because you see, if you think about it

Life has a meaning because death exists;

From a philosophical standpoint, death is a lack of life, and thus exists only because life does, a negation of something can't exist without its counterpart.

Do you see where I'm going?

Let's face it, Lysandre is probably dead at the end of X&Y.

Death died.

And what happens to life when death disappears?

Yeah.

I believe it was made on purpose, and let's be honest, it would explain why Sycamore seemingly ignored the GIANT red flags this guy showed.

Because he can't live without him.

Not in a "oh he's so in love he needs his fucked up husband" way, no, absolutely not.

Sycamore needs Lysandre, because what would be of life of death ceased to exist? It wouldn't be life anymore, but rather an endless wait for... eventually nothing. A fate far worse than death itself. A deathless death if you will.

It's almost poetic how, if Lysandre is dead, Sycamore lost his Death and yet is condemned to go on with his life as if nothing happened, he's forced to live despite the grief.

And if somehow Lysandre survived, he would eventually lose his Life and yet would still be condemned to an eternal life, eventually losing his mind and craving for death.

One is forced to live because he lost Death, the other is forced to let his mind die not to go insane because he lost Life.

Again, I'm extremely late to the party and it probably makes zero fucking sense but get in my shoes it's 2 am and ship thoughts wouldn't let me sleep.

[redbleedingrose]

Wake Up Call

Girl Dad!Eris x Reader

A/N: 6.2K words later?? I missed Girl Dad!Er and my babes Marwa and Twila! I hope y’all enjoy! As always, please reblog, comment, and like! It means the literal world to me and I will smooch you! (if u want)

~ a special thank you to @augustinerose who inspired me, and pushed me to continue to write, even when I didn’t think I could. 

Warmth. It was all I felt. It was all I wanted to feel. I shuffled my body closer to the only source of warmth in the large emerald stained oak bed, wriggling my hips backwards and using the corded bicep that was resting under my head to cuddle further into the sleeping male behind me, the high lord of Autumn Court, my husband and mate. A puff of breath escaped his lips, too sleep-idled to fully be aware of my nestling into him, but sensing through the bond that had been present for multiple centuries now, one that had grown stronger and firmer with every moment we spent together, that his mate was near, but not nearly close enough. Eris shifted his body towards me, groaning as he lifted himself from his back and onto his side, throwing his free arm around my waist and squeezing the soft flesh as he closed the gap between us, yanking my body in one tug to be fully against his, before settling his face into the crook of my neck. 

He pressed a soft kiss just behind my ear, humming in contentment before, apparently, falling back into a deep sleep as quickly as he had woken up, his soft snores fading into the fall breeze that was entering our room from the open balcony doors. The sun had barely risen, just peaking above the horizon, the milky orange and peach from the rays blending into the background of the giant sequoia forest that was married with the colored leaves of the sycamore maples and the weeping willows that I so very much loved. Sighing slowly, I dropped a delicate kiss onto a knife thin yet deep scar that marked the cream toned arm that had been acting as my favorite pillow since we had accepted the mating bond. I watched, barely awake, as the sun rose in the quiet peace of the morning, reveling in the end of the cries of the crickets and the start of the singing of honeyed songs by the diamond spotted doves.

I lived for these moments where I had alone time with Eris, as did he, his arm tightening around my waist as the song of the morning became louder and the chill of breeze became stronger, marking the start of a new day. The moments before we became high lady and high lord to our vast and expanding land. The moments before the Autumn Court depended on our daily activities to keep the territory in harmony and fruitful success. The moments before our perfect, mischievous little babes sneak into our room with their “guard” dog, who was really just a runt from a killer hound litter that Marwa and Twila convinced their papa, the usually unshakeable high lord, to buy from the farmers market with their tiny pouts and big brown eyes, in tow, just to jump onto our bed and scream with delight until we would wake and bless them with our coziest of hugs and our sunup smooches. 

Honestly, I was quite surprised the babes hadn’t run in yet, the pitter patter of their feet running towards our room that correlated with the sunrise is usually what sent my eyes flying open, shoving a warm and cuddly Eris off of me, scrambling to pull on any clothing that the newly grumpy male had hastily pulled off the previous night before we scar our innocent children for life. An observation that apparently hadn’t gone unnoticed,  a groggy murmur emmenanting from the lordling whose hand was now roaming the expanse of my abdomen and breasts, a stray finger sliding over my nipple, “What trouble do you think the babes are getting up to right now, my beloved?” 

I caught his exploring hand with my own, twining our tattooed fingers together before bringing it up to my lips and pressing firm kisses that were followed with a tiny bite to each of the available pads of his fingers, humming in response, “I haven’t the foggiest idea, husband.” He growled, shoving his naked leg between my thighs, sighing out as I brought his pointer finger into my mouth for a soft suckle to soothe the sting of the bite I had gifted him with, running my tongue along the length of his digit. 

A grin overtook my face as I finally turned to face Er, who was staring back at me with his own lust-filled smirk. A jolt of excitement ran through your core, the warmth that I had felt suddenly, rushing down to my barely covered sex that was starting to throb at the butterfly sensation that had erupted in my belly. My mate pulled me in for a slow kiss, meshing our lips together so that they would melt against each other as they had last night, quickly working in harder and faster pecks. I molded my entire body against his, grinding into the hard muscle as his hand slipped out of my embrace and up to caress my jaw, his thumb carefully pressing into the soft skin of my neck. Another thrill of heat tingeled its way through my entire body, starting from his thumb and spreading down all the way to the tip of my painted sage green toes. I couldn't help the desperate whine that escaped me, further encouraging Er to kiss me more firmly, with intent to continue into what would surely be rough morning sex that would blend into incredible love making as the hours passed. 

Unfortunately, the gods had other plans for us two today. 

The familiar sound of two pairs of small feet scampering through the hall towards our room had sent me thwarting off the edge of the bed, hurling Eris his pants as he chuckled at my panic. I shot him a dirty, betrayed look, rolling my eyes as I shoved on the silk slip I was wearing last night when I put the babes to bed, tossing myself back into Eris’ arms while pulling the heavy comforter back over us. The lordling grunted in surprise as he caught me when I tossed myself back into bed, pulling me back into his grasp, chortling into my disheveled hair with a planted kiss, “Ah, who would've known our babes would be such wonderful cockblocks, my beloved?” 

I clenched my jaw, jabbing my elbow into his perfect abs, hissing at him to “Shut up.” If I was anyone else, if I wasn’t the love of his life and his mate, if I wasn’t the mother of his children, I would already be disintegrated into ash with the force of his magic. Another swift kiss was pressed into my hair by the high lord as the hickory double doors carved with intricate designs and stained with henna were barely pushed open by the two toddlers who tried peaking their heads through the opening. 

A tuft of amber hair resembling her fathers along with another tuft of darker hair resembling her grandmother poked into the room through the doorway, curls inherited from their papa that are tangled and in disarray from the dreams of their pegasus’ in Day court, taken care of by their grandparents, mixed in with dreams of milk chocolate swirled with caramels and pecans that their uncle Lucien sneaked them constantly. Tiny grunts are heard as the babes struggle to manage keeping the doors open, their little, pudgy hands too strained against the heavy wood to even allow their shoulders to squirm against each other and through the pressed doorway, “Help pwease, papa.” The request comes grumbled out by Twila, who has decidedly put all her effort into keeping the door open for her and her sister, Marwa, whose back is now pressed into the grand oak, bare feet trying to climb up the emerald green wallpaper to use the force of her upper body to aid her twin, waiting rather impatiently for their papa to save the day, as he always does for them. 

I lean back into Eris, chuckling at the effort of the babes, nudging his already moving body towards them. His reply comes swiftly, mingled with mirth at the sweet girls he loves more than the moon, more than the stars and the sun itself, “Coming, my little loves.” Centuries ago, he couldn’t have ever imagined this is what his lifetime would be blessed with. Two perfect babes who were happy and safe, and a perfect mate who warmed his heart more than the eternal fire of Autumn. Now, he wakes every morning to the scent of his high lady who seeks him out for the fire in his blood he once despised, followed by the sounds of his precious darlings sneaking into the room, jumping onto our bed, screaming with laughter to start our day. 

He drew the door open slowly, allowing for Twila to release her efforts from holding the doors open and shift them into racing into the room towards the bed, leaving her sister behind who is hoisted into Eris’ embrace. I watched him press soft kisses into Marwa’s cheeks and messy hair while Twila fisted the fluffed out comforter to pull herself onto the bed. I settled myself into the padded headboard, crossing my legs at my ankles and placing my interlocked hands into my lap. A chuckle escaped me once again, Twila’s grunts and reddening face bringing me a sense of delight that can only be ascribed to the pride I felt in her never-ending effort, “Do you need help, little one?” I hummed down at her, leaning down to the side to see her bare feet off the floor and pressed into the side of the bed to steady her climbing. 

She whined for a moment, her amber curls falling above her eyes which she swatted away, huffing out a, “No tanks you mama.” In all her struggles, she didn’t notice Er sneaking up from behind her, winking at me with a small smirk when he fisted her daffodil yellow nightgown and gave her the final tug she needed to climb onto the bed, letting go before she could realize how her papa has interfered, and ultimately helped her succeed with her mission. Twila panted against the crumpled bed sheets, her hands curling to fist the fabric for a moment before leaping up onto her feet, jumping on the bed as though the completion of her mission had revitalized her energy, big brown eyes sparkling with joy, leaping into my open arms to shove her face into my cheek, sloppily pressing a wet kiss before she cried out, “Look mama, I did it!”

My arms wrapped around her wriggling body, yanking her into my lap while she giggled and kicked at the feeling of my fingers poking into her sides, “You did it my sweet, good job!” I returned the sloppy kiss two-fold, pressing a smooch to her warm forehead and freckled nose. The mattress shifted as Eris sank in beside me, Marwa quietly pressed into his side, her head leaning on his chest, her heavy eyes watching her sister and I before taking a deep breath and clinging closer to her papa. I reached out my hand to run my fingers through the tired babes hair, giving a soft tug to one curl following it with peppered kisses all over the top of Marwa’s head. A sleepy smile tugged at her flushed cheeks, preening under her mamas attention and love, her half lidded eyes finally giving into the sleep she so clearly felt, sliding shut with puffs of breath escaping her open mouth, soothed by the strokes of Eris’ hands down her back and back through her hair. 

Twila kindly babbled on, though, she did so more softly so she didn’t wake her twin, telling Eris and I of the things she planned on doing today, “I wanna eat nachos for breakfast, mama, an then I wanna go for a walk with Ruby,” the pup who had slid into the room with the babes and had nestled himself into the rug, dozing in front of the crackling fireplace, “An then I wanna eat nachos for lunch,” Eris cut in with a small laugh tumbling from his pretty lips, a single brow arched as he eyed the babe in my lap with amusement, “Nachos for breakfast and lunch Twi?” 

She brought up her tiny palms to stifle giggles that escaped her like a little sprite at Er’s slightly concerned tone, nodding with a hum in affirmation, finding great pleasure in being a source of what could be called ‘a healthy stress’ for her papa. Twila was always the most mischievous and playful of the two, the one most likely being the mastermind for the adventures she took herself and her sister along in as the outgoing babe she is. Poor, sweet Marwa always found herself roped into whatever Twila had planned, following along with unbreakable loyalty, and a secret knack for getting the two out of any trouble they may have found themselves in. 

Eris shot me a look that nearly sent me over the edge with cackles, the hilarity of Twila’s cravings were too adorable to handle, a feeling of delirious content spilled into my heart as I thought back to my pregnancy with the babes that were sat in our arms. I thought back to the countless nights I had woken up Eris, who startled awake with distress, thinking there was something wrong with me or the babes, or that there was some danger that needed to be eliminated, only to find that his high lady was craving cheesy, melty nachos with jalapenos and all sorts of other peppers as toppings. Pressing another kiss, this time into the babes chubby cheek, I let my smile widen as her big brown, sparkling eyes turned up to me, “How about we have scrambled eggs and potatoes, the ones that I make, and nachos for lunch, hmm?” Her replying smile lilted her ruddy cheeks enough for Eris to lean in and press his own kiss onto her. 

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

It had been hours since the morning lull had quickened into the busy afternoon. Eris and I were immensely crammed with our duties, negotiations of forging an alliance between Night, Dawn, and Day was proving harder than expected. Demands that were being sent by all parties were being denied outright without explanation, driving tensions higher and higher with every passing day. The other problems of the court also required our utmost attention, the lords who remained from the rule of Beron were rebelling against Eris’ new laws that were set into place to protect the farmers and townspeople that were once oppressed, both financially and politically. Changes had to be made in Autumn once Eris took his place on the throne, assigning me as the first high lady of Autumn was the first step he made into bringing these changes. After years on the throne, things hadn’t gotten any easier. The only point of peace we got were the moments we had with each other, and the moments we had with our babes. 

We hadn’t been able to see them since breakfast; Er and I had been pulled into different meetings while the babes were whisked away to their morning lessons. I glanced up, looking over Eris’ hair at the clock that had been hung on the wall behind his desk. The times after our meetings were spent decompressing within his office, either through fucking out our frustrations or reading together in a peaceful silence. Today, it had been reading together in a peaceful silence. It was nearly a quarter till the sixteenth hour, which was encroaching on what should be the babes naptime. 

Their nanny, Zephyrus, should’ve put them to bed already, and it was high time to check and see how they were resting. Normally, Twila slept like a log, soft snores leaving her, similar to her papa  in every way. It was Marwa who sometimes struggled with her sleep, waking up in the middle of naptime, coming to her papa’s office to be snuggled and sung back to sleep. Sighing, I pulled myself up from my seat on the tanned leather couch, lifting my feet from Eris’ lap, lightly smacking his shoulder at the groan he had let out as he threw back his head into the couch. I was ready to kiss the babes and give them a quick snuggle, however sexually frustrated my mate was. “Leaving so soon, gorgeous?” 

I nearly tripped at the nickname, my heart stuttering for a moment as the bond between us pulled taught. I recovered rather quickly though, my heart returning into the deep yearning feeling for my babes and their warm bodies pressed against mine, clinging onto my hold and whining in their sleep for more soft kisses to their foreheads and cheeks, their mama’s attention something they craved even in their deepest of dreams. “I’ve been here for two hours Er, giving you my undivided attention,” I replied in a rather deadpan tone, the poor male could really never get enough of me, and he made that quite clear with another groan that slipped from his lips. I scoffed at the high lord of Autumn, “so fucking needy aren’t you?” sending him a smirk, swaying my hips as I turned toward the exit. I could hear him shuffle behind me, the image clear in my head that he was adjusting his hard on; another smirk tugged at my lips, one that was now hidden from my mate. 

As I turned to shut the door, I brought my hand up to blow Eris a kiss, and he, wordlessly, caught it, his beautiful gods-forsaken eyes glinting back at me until the knob had clicked into place. The bond between us was now struggling against me with need, enticing me to run back into the office so Eris could have his way with me, but I was more focused on getting back to the babes. I strolled through the halls, tracing with my eyes, the giant archways and marbled columns that opened into the back forest and plains of the estate before looking to the ceiling. There is a haze of lychee and pear in the breeze that guides the hung roses and peonies that cover whole portions in rocking motions, the portions that sit free are painted with the histories of Prythian breaking into the seven courts that stand today. The inner gardens had fountains that spouted water that glittered like diamonds under the afternoon sun, dazzling rainbows sent in every direction, landing on the swaying leaves of the eldred willow trees that Eris had planted in victory after he had defeated Beron. 

I reached their bedroom without haste, admiring the peach pink and lavender shade of the stained glass embedded into the entryway to the babes room, a lovely gift from Rhysand and Feyre when they were born. The rulers of the Night court had been delighted to hear that their own son, Nyx, would have not only one, but two playmates whenever we would find the time to visit their home in Valeris. Our alliance had never been stronger with the Night court, and that was something that both Eris and I had taken great pride in. I cracked the door open, peering into the dark room, only to find the two beds where the babes should be asleep, empty.

A jolt of panic shot through me and down the mating bond without meaning to, the answering tug from Eris, filled with concern and worry. I sucked a tense and heavy breath through my teeth, calming myself into believing I was just an overprotective mother hen. I sent back an ounce of reassurance down the bond, back to Er before hurrying down to the playroom. I convinced myself that it was entirely possible Twila woke early and insisted that Marwa join her for a game of pretending, pushing down the weightful sense of dread that began to fill me. The estate was impossibly protected with wards and spells that Eris himself, along with Lucien and Helion had cast, blocking off any chance of breach. My breath was too difficult to catch as I paced down the hall, a horrible voice croaking in my head, ‘Nothing is impossible, you fool. What if they were taken?” 

Hot tears rimmed my eyes as I tore into the playroom. Empty. 

Scattered toys were all over the floor, the table in the center still set with the tea cups that Marwa had gotten as a gift from Lucien, ready for the babes and their favorite uncle to join in on their ‘princess party.’ The sun shone in through the window, heating the room to the point where beads of sweat had formed at the top edge of my lip. The panic that I had shoved down reared its ugly head, spreading through me and in full force down the bond as I broke into a sprint towards their tiny classroom where they received their afternoon lessons. Maybe they had been kept by Draconus, the fae professor who, before, had taught Eris and all his brothers, and before them, Beron and his siblings, and so on. Marwa had always complained about the elderly male droning on for lengths beyond their lesson time. 

The door banged against the wall with the force that I had used to slam it open. 

Fucking Empty. 

My hand came up to my chest, clenching at the feeling of my heart squeezing too tightly in my chest, like a noose had been tied around it and tugged. A wave of nausea and dizziness swept through me, sending me tumbling backward. I nearly fell over as a pair of arms wrapped around my waist, turning me to face the person who had caught me, but I couldn’t see. My vision had blurred, blackening around the periphery as ugly, deep sobs ripped through the lump that had lodged into my throat and out of me. A set of warm hands cupped my cheeks, lifting my gaze to meet crazed amber eyes flickering back and forth with mine, “They are gone. Where are… Where are the… Where are my babes?”  It comes out rather quietly, stuttered between short and incomplete gasps. Rather breathless. Almost whispered. As if I couldn’t find it within me to speak the horrid words any louder. 

My knees gave out completely, any sensation in my legs ceased to exist, but Eris was there to lift me into his embrace, wrapping his arm around my legs and lifting me into a bridal style before resting me on the small desk that Marwa usually sat at. He didn’t wait for another moment, screaming out to his personal guards in the most chilling voice I had ever heard him use, “Lock down this fucking estate. No one moves in or out. Search the entire fucking house. Leave no room unsearched. Turn every piece of fucking furniture over. Find my children, heirs to the Autumn throne. Immediately. Or heads will roll.” His back is turned towards me as he shouted, but the panic he felt rippled down the bond in heavy waves, focusing into a rage that he had never experienced, not even when Beron lived, “and bring me the fucking nanny.” 

His guards immediately drew their iron swords at his orders and dispersed rapidly, some running further into the home, some running outside. Splitting into groups of two, one ran towards the outskirts of the estate where Zeyphrus lived to drag her back here, and the other towards the outer forest that surrounded the home. My hands shook as I traced the little carving of Marwa’s name on the small desk, left by what looks to be a very sharp pencil, or possibly, a tiny dagger. I could hardly feel the indents into the wood, my hands tingling with panic and nerves as Eris turned towards me, the fire in his eyes still evident. His hand caught mine, squeezing tightly, “We will find them my love, they will be fine. They are strong and will take care of each other.”

Another sob escaped me as I collapsed into his arms, clinging to his figure for a moment before the shouts of the nanny were heard down the hall. Two of the guards were dragging her by her elbows, she glanced wildly around the room in confusion until she was brought to her knees facing us. She took one long look at Eris’ face, wincing at the cold fury that was directed at her and turned to stare down at the ground, “Where are Marwa and Twila?” Her head snapped up, confusion washing over her face, “I– in bed my lord,” stuttering it out, more as a question than as a statement. She shifted her gaze to me, maybe hoping to find more mercy, mercy that I could not find within me as long as my babes were missing. 

She continued, her voice trembling as her body began to shake, the guards tightening their grip on her elbows and yanking her up to face us once more, “My lord, I put them to bed for their daily nap, I– are they not there?” Her cerulean blue eyes filled with tears, panic shone across her face as she begins to process the implications of not knowing where Marwa and Twila were. My tone was piercing, “No, they aren’t.” She began stuttering, but the patience of Eris and I had already been drawn out the moment we found their classroom empty, Eris had fully shifted into the ruthless high lord he once feared becoming, slamming his hand onto the wooden table next to him, his eyes filled with the fire that was stoked by the fear of losing his children, the greatest joys of his life. Zephyrus cried out in fear, flinching as the nearby supply closet lit into a controlled fire, the pent of rage and horror Eris felt bleeding into his surroundings through his fae magic. 

But there was something in the way that she had looked at us, the way she had been truly confused, almost flabbergasted that we had been questioning her about the whereabouts of our babes that made me feel as though, deep in my gut, she had nothing to do with this. I felt weak, my hands still tingling from the panic, shakily resting on one of Eris’ forearms, “She doesn’t know anything Er.” Both of their heads jolted towards me, Zephyrus with a look of relief muddled with confusion, and Eris, shaken and upset. The babes adored their nanny, and she loved them. Marwa always has stories of the cuddles she and Zephyrus had, and Twila was filled with tales of their afternoon walks through the forest. She had looked after them since they were born, setting up to help me on the toughest of nights, and the busiest of days. 

Er jerked his head at the guards, gesturing for them to take the woman away, likely to a holding cell for further questioning until the babes are found. But it would be pointless. We had sworn her into secrecy and loyalty the day she signed on as our babes nanny, and any movement away from that sworn loyalty, would result in her immediate death by the magic that bound us together. I painfully swallowed against the hard lump in my throat, still struggling to breathe, the pressure in my chest making it only possible to catch my breath, even in small gasps of air. 

The fear burned my eyes, I blinked back the stinging tears to prevent them from streaming down into an endless sea of panic. Blowing out the breath from my puffed cheeks, I stared into Eris’ flickering irises, still flaming from the worry. His warm hands came up to cup my cheeks, pulling me closer into him until his forehead was pressed against mine, “You can find them my love,” his lips fluttered above my upper lip as he spoke, “You know them better than anyone. They are your soul, as they are my heart. C’mon sweet girl, think.” His hand marked by our shared tattoo reached down and grabbed hold of my own, pressing it against his chest right where his heart beat. It felt like a hummingbird fluttering against my palm, only slowing with pulses of comfort that waved down our bond. 

I tightened my palm into a fist, gripping the soft material of his blood red shirt as I forced myself to think back to where the babes could possibly be. All the areas I had checked were my firstline stream of thoughts, but it was possible they were elsewhere in places I hadn’t even initially thought of. But the possibilities remained endless. Eris and I had been quite strict with incorporating family outings into our schedules. Even as high lord and lady, we still made sure to have one on one time with the babes, girls’ day out with their mama and daddy's day out with their papa, even their favorite uncle, the newly ascendent high lord of Day, Lucien joined in on occasion. 

From having their own treehouse built in the sacoya, to private pathways in the forest, to small alcoves for a game of hide and seek, to the rapids of the Sienna river where Eris took them fishing. 

They could be anywhere. 

And who even knows if they were together? 

I sent a silent prayer to the mother and gods above, to any deity who had the sympathy to listen and hopefully, the benevolence to answer such prayers, that they were together, that they remained as a unit of sisters, stuck together with the everlasting love of siblings. I prayed a prayer that they would give me even the smallest of clues as to where they could possibly be, And I hoped that Ruby, their pup, was with them, even as small as he was, it was possible that–. 

The pup. 

The hounds. 

Though Eris’ palm was rubbing the back of my neck, keeping me close to him as he eyed my now concentrated face, I felt myself hurtle back. The fucking hounds. “I– I think I know. Gods, please, I think–,” I couldn't even finish my sentence, already using all my force to push myself off the desk, legs pumping underneath me, carrying me before the thought could even finish itself. I continued crying prayers to myself as I ran, “gods, please, please.” I could barely hear the thudding of Eris’ leather boots against the marbled floor and then the evening dewed grass over the blood that was whooshing in my ears. 

Eris slammed into my back, not expecting me to suddenly stop in my tracks. His arm wrapped around my hips as we both stumbled forward, trying to prevent me from being thrown over the stable door as the force of his impact made its way through me. But my feet were planted on the floor, my hand frozen stuck on the door handle. A question comes out of Eris’ mouth, one that I do not hear as I forced myself to take another deep breath, a final beseeching prayer to the cauldron before heaving the heavy door open. 

One of my hands reached back to grab Eris’ as I pulled him and I inside, eyes searching over every millimeter of the stable, over and over. The stalls remained childless, with only hay and curious horses peaking at us. My grip tightened its hold on Eris’ hand, squeezing three times on occasion as he paced behind me, rechecking every stall that I have peered into. I switched my path away from the horses and towards the area where the killer hounds were kept. The ones that belonged to Eris, even before I was in his life. The ones who are supposed to tear apart any enemies to the Autumn Court into literal shreds. The ones who are known to maul intruders of the estate.

The ones that have the softest of soft spots for the babes and I. 

The ones who used to whine at our bedroom door until Eris would get out of bed to open the door for them. The ones who would rush into the room and pounce onto the bed to snuggle against me. The ones who refused to leave my side during my pregnancy, taking turns laying their head on my swollen belly. The ones who stood at the doorway during the birth of the babes, growling at any sentry who walked past the room. The ones who licked the small toes of Marwa, and sniffed at Twila’s little fists. The ones who ran ahead during our family hikes to warn us of any pedestrians ahead. The ones who slowed their trots to match pace with the small toddling of Marwa and Twila. The ones who patiently allowed for Twila to climb onto their backs, who screamed with joy, “Onward Buster!” forcing them to carry her to wherever the little one pleased. The ones who sat with Marwa, who settled herself on their side, reading tiny books to them, pointing out the pictures with her chubby pointer finger which they would attentively stare at. 

And there they are. 

I took a moment, soaking in the scene before me, pressing my hands into my belly, trying to quiet the sobs that are forcing their way through my body. I heard a gasp of relief from Eris, who hugged me from behind and stroked the backs of my hand, popping a quick kiss into my cheek and then on my temple before resting his head on top of mine. He slowly swayed us side to side, enjoying the most adorable, relieving sight he had ever seen in his entire lifetime. 

Twila was curled into Marwa, her pudgy arm clinging to her sister's soft, plush belly. Marwa’s head was turned toward Twila’s, her tiny hand tightly gripping her sisters, the both of them fast asleep, cuddled together, surrounded by the warmth of the twelve killer hounds that Eris had raised. Their pup lay on his stomach, snoring softly as the babes feet rested under him, acting as a miniature comforter.  

It was Marwa who woke first, hearing the shuffling of her mama and papa trying to move around the hounds to reach them. Her tiny fist released her sister's hand, rubbing at her sleep crusted eyes, a tiny yawn escaping her as she sat up and stretched, her adorable rounded belly sticking out. “Mama?” Her voice is heavy with sleep, her eyes half lidded as she fought off falling back into her dreams. 

I choked down another sob, reaching down for her, my smile watery and full as her arms automatically reached out so she could be held, “Hello my beautiful little babe.” I pulled her into my embrace, clutching at her dress and stuffing my face into her messy, knotted hair, “And what kind of mischief have you and your sister gotten into little one?” Her legs could barely wrap around my waist, her arms tightly wrapped around my neck as she buried her face into my shoulder, taking a deep sigh of content as she took in her mothers scent. Eris finally reached the passed out Twila, who continued snoring quietly as he lifted her up into his chest. He planted a kiss onto her nose, which twitched at the tickling sensation, before she snuggled deeper into his warmth. He rocked her, patting the space between her shoulders to soothe her back into her deep sleep. The hounds lifted their deadly stares at us, taking a moment to recognize who we are, before resting their heads back onto their feet. 

I huffed out a snort, rolling my eyes while I approached Eris, focused more so on bending over to kiss Twila’s ruddy, warm cheeks than the napping hounds. Marwa grumbled, wriggling deeper into my embrace when Eris landed a sloppy kiss onto her forehead. He sent a smirk my way, bumping his hip into mine as we strolled out of the stables, “They really are your children,” his voice is hoarse, but filled with mirth and fondness. I scoffed, bumping his hip in return, much rougher than I had initially intended, “And what is that supposed to mean fireboy?” I side-eyed him, pursing my lips into a wicked grin as he flushed red at the nickname. “I mean, they fall asleep anywhere and everywhere at any time. And I wonder who they got that from,” boring his amber eyes into mine without any sense of hesitation. 

I playfully gasped at the hidden accusation, tickling the bottoms of Marwa’s feet who kicked them out and cackled as I stared incredulously at her, “Do you hear your papa little one? How ridiculous is he?” She leaned in, pecking my lips with a tiny kiss, before pulling back, her chocolate brown eyes bright and sparkling, “So so ri-ducky-lucky mama.” Eris chomped his teeth at her, “Honk honk,” snickering at her cheerful yelps. He settled the napping Twila, who had a tranquil smile gracing her face, on his hip, reaching his free hand, tattooed with our marriage vows to rest on the small of my back as we walked back to the estate. 

They were most definitely sleeping in our room at nightfall.

Masterlist

General taglist: @nyotamalfoy @brekkershadowsinger @kennedy-brooke @fieldofdaisiies

[birdingbasics]

obviously none of the pokemon leaks are canon. obviously. but i’m taking exactly two things away from the pokemon leaks and the pokemon company will have to pry my fingers off one by one to get them away from me

the arceus myth about how arceus is defeated by giratina and falls to earth as a woman and marries a man and they have twin daughters and then after they are born arceus ascends and leaves that man a single dad to raise their two half-god twins and when giratina comes back he tries to protect his daughters and dies in the process and they become palkia and dialga and defeat giratina and then arceus resurrects her dead husband into the lake spirits mesprit azelf and uxie. if you care about the lore of d/p/pt or pla this is so much to consider

after you save the world/win the championship professor sycamore gives you his cheeseburger

[dagdasoneandonly]

Happy 10 years together Augustine~

Before we begin it is PARAMOUNT to state that I am not a "fangirl/simp/whatever y'all are calling it these days" of dear Augustine Sycamore.

He is my FO (Forever One/ husband in laymans terms) and I consider him to be a real person just like the words I'm typing on this keyboard.

Any comments that are irrelevant to this post will be deleted and the user blocked.

I take my relationship with him very seriously, if this is "odd" or "weird" to you then kindly walk on by.

10 years ago I was welcomed back into the world of Pokemon after a few years break due to personal things I had going on, and video games were the last thing on my mind.

But as they say fate and destiny always have other plans.

Pokemon XY was the last golden age of Pokemon, it was a different world, it felt like I was welcome there. I still maintain onto my hope and innocence because of this beautiful world known as Kalos, a world that greeted me with open arms and a warm hug that enveloped my soul like Xerneas's Fairy Aura.

It was the beginning of something entirely new for me... and I didn't even know it.

2013 wasn't a good year for me, so I was pretty happy when my dad surprised me with a 3Ds and asked me what game I wanted: I was an edgy little shit back then so I asked for Pokemon Y... even though I really wanted X. Deer were always beautiful to me.

I had broken off with an FO that I just felt I wasn't good enough for and became rather desolate, I was lost and alone. And I had to drop out of college for mental health reasons.

Sure enough, my solace came to me in the 2D world yet again.

One cozy October evening my copy of Pokemon Y came through, I was excited and fired the game up right away, back then you could play games right away without downloads or waiting for patches and mutliple DLCs! XY had one patch but it was just to fix that Lumioise City bug. Thankfully my copy was safe.

As you can see, my copy of Pokemon XY is infact a physical copy, I've taken very good care of it. (Ft. my cute Sylveon plushie, Fionn)

Not having anyone to trade with didn't matter, because the Wonder Trade function was a bloody miracle. I got so many Pokemon. I couldn't transfer my older Pokemon as I had no access to Bank or any of that stuff, my other games I had to leave at home.

It was time when Gamefreak actually thought about their fans who didn't have access to Gamestop, Toys R Us or couldn't afford constant trips to New York, Japan, Mars, Etc for one tiny ass pixel.

So I was sorely missing my old Pokemon, I wish I could bring them into this 3D world and pet them and shower them with affection like they deserved to be. But I realized I could make new memories with new friends in this new world, and who knows? Maybe we would reunite again.

Kalos took me on a journey, a journey of love, self discovery and gave me a home. I was whisked away to Fairy land and fairy types became my new favorite, I liked that they were strong against Dragon - types, the bane of my existence at how powerful they always were!

But.. the one who grabbed me by the hand was none other than Professor Augustine Sycamore. I had seen his image before on a leak, and couldn't help but think he was kind of handsome, a friend who had already played through Pokemon X told me:

"Hey you might like Professor Sycamore, he's this dreamboat that shows you the world and stuff and I KEEP SWOONING whenever he shows up on screen"

Sure enough when I opened up Pokemon X for the first time, I was greeted by his handsome face, I thought nothing of it of course since I was more interested in the Pokemon.

I was especially looking forward to Trainer customization and giving myself green eyes and brown hair. I will never forget the time I chose my Fennekin and started to pet him, my heart melted.

I could finally show my Pokemon love and affection, for all their hard work in battles and feed them cupcakes and play with them! I was also intrigued by this thing called "Mega Evolution".

As I continued throughout the game, I explored every nook and cranny, I felt like a kid again. I was truly lost to the world for HOURS after I got it. It was a beautiful game. The 3D over-world was amazing.

The "friends" you had were annoying but I like to pretend they don't exist. When I finally reached Lumoise City I already had a big party of Pokemon, and the event Torchic.

I loved how friendly the Pokemon in Kalos were, I caught many eevees and evolved one into a Sylveon, she became a massive Team Player. I even managed to find some familar faces along the way: A Raichu named Napalm, and an Espeon named Solar who remains as an MVP in my teams to this day.

I was having so much fun just running around, getting haircuts, dressing up, looking pretty for Professor Sycamore AND catching Pokemon, I would completely be lost in this beautiful new world, that felt so much like home to me and still is.

Professor Sycamore was the beginning of my healing. As I continued to learn about him, there was more to him than just the eye candy, he had a past. I loved it whenever he showed up to offer me an encouraging word or two in the game, saying how this was my journey to explore, that being the best trainer was defined by what I thought. He never imposed anything on me, I was starting to feel the flutters and shit in my heart and liver again.. And my god it felt good.

I desperately needed to feel something like this.. something like true, unconditional love.

Around this time I was heavily suffering from perfectionism, it was killing me on the inside, I was 19 when this game came out and already people had high expectations of me.

I was determined to graduate, get a job and have my own house- all before I reached 21. But life seldom goes your way, I was suffering from many un-diagnosed mental disorders that had been neglected my entire life.

I am ashamed to say I spent almost all of 2013 being obsessively deep in competitive and breeding the perfect Pokémon. Perfectionism had leaked into my past - time and hobbies, I realized that if I couldn't be perfect I could at least have this outlet in games, little did I know it was sucking the soul out of me.

I was often punished as a child for being less than perfect, I took it out on my poor Pokemon. Things like this don't magically go away, not everyone has a backbone, sometimes backbones take time to build.

It wasn't until yet again - I got help from a rather unexpected source: Professor Sycamore himself, another testament to have wonderful 2D beings are.

As I progressed through the game and reached the Tower of Mastery.

I was surprised to learn that Professor Sycamore was there to study Mega Evolution but left because he didn't have what it takes, essentially dropping out- kind of a parallel to my own life, except real life seldom has happy endings.

But it gave me hope, because even if Sycamore didn't master Mega Evolution he still became the professor of Kalos and if you look into professorship- it's.. actually not easy to get. If Sycamore could fail and succeed in the future, maybe I could too.

One night..

I had a dream of Sycamore. He held me close and said that he could tell something was bothering me, I was hurting deep down. We in the fairy forest together, just relaxing in a field of flowers as the Flabebe floated around us in the gentle spring breeze..I told him everything, I spilled my heart and soul to him.

I told him that life wasn't worth it to live.

He was heart-wrenched that I felt like that, he embraced me tightly in his arms and told me

"Your life is your own, no one gets to decide it's worth except you. Even if you're behind, you don't have to go at everyone else's pace, if life was easy then no one would feel sadness. I love you no matter what or who you choose to be, always remember that," Those words I still carry in my heart.

The biggest surprise I got had to be in Couriway Town. I found Professor Sycamore's "treasure" from the past Sycamore to the future Sycamore. I actually began to cry, it felt like it was addressing me, that even if I don't know what I want to be yet, I'm not a failure. I still have time.

In another dream I confessed that I loved him, he embraced and kissed me fully on the mouth. I felt like I was on cloud nine.

Diverging from the narrative a bit, I want to talk about Lysandre, I felt his anger sometimes, the frustration of helping your friends and them not wanting to do any better no matter how much time you invested in them. Of course Lysandre ,uh took a different path. But Sycamore still cared about him.

And I realized.. even if I'm a horrible person apparently according to some people over shit I can't control, Sycamore can still love me too.

Professor Sycamore is a relic of a bygone era when 2D beings set out to inspire others, and to most importantly - love you and you alone.

Augustine gave me not just love-- but a home to come back to, a safe haven that will always be mine, no matter what. I will always love him, when I look into his beautiful gray - blue eyes, I see love.

He gave me hope that life can get better, and most importantly I deserve happiness, not just other people.

And.. today I'm marrying this wonderful man after 10 years. He met me when I was freshly 18 and saw me grow into who I am today, and he's proud of me. I'm happy I lived to see 10 more years.

Thank you for everything, Augustine. Thank you for teaching me to love again.

[kadavermehl]

PerfectWorldShippingWeek 2023

Day 6: Day 🌅/ Night 🌌

Tfw Just a couple hours ago you were talking with your pupils about how amazing you husband is and now he's calling you half-dead from the depths of a crumbling Secret Base telling you he loves you. So relatable!

Just like last Post this is based of an ancient Headcanon of mine, though this one is not as "far fetched" as the Last one (Idc how 'far-fetched" or "outlandish' Headcanons are btw, they're there to have fun!)

Warning: Rambling and Bad grammar ahead :') ( Listen I HAVE to get this Out)

Augustine was in the Base along side his students, He knew they could handle themselves but they were Kids after all so He couldn't Just let them go alone(besides this was Personal), almost getting himself killed. How? Well next to his usual clumsiness, He simply refused to leave without Lysandre, realizing this ,a certain someone who just ran into him, quickly told him (Not wanting him to DIE) that he saw Lysandre being escorted out by Serena and Calem. Sycamore, knowing this person, trusted him and escaped along side em. On the surface after helping with evacuation, helping People trapped by debris, etc.. He received a (albeit barely connecting) call on his Holocaster, It was Lysandre. He looked almost dead, half of His face burned, clothes ripped, guts where they shouldn't be and surrounded by his, not too much better looking, Pokémon. And the worst Part? The Signal was one-way, meaning that while Augustine could See and hear him, Lysandre could not. (In the commotion both of Thier Holocasters were damaged, Not to mention the extreme depth Lysandre was at and the literall Tons of debris in the way interfiering with the Signal) To Cut this short Lysandre simply ended up telling him that he Loves Augustine and that He was sorry.

I swear me verbally speaking english is Not as Bad as this horrible paragraph sorry

Also some closeups of each Image + obligatory @perfworldweek due to lateness :')

[theiloveyousong]

twirls my hair and kicks my legs,,,, you should so tell me about the teachers of Hatchetfield High from that one wip of yours

wgahahaha yeah ofc!!!! affectionately called "the stuff of nightmares" in my google docs... 1k and barely started which is very hard for me to do. so we've got

-grace chasity, choir teacher and music director of the spring musical! 1st year at hatchetfield high (she came from new hampshire...), very nervous about the kids liking her, has a weird gay thing going with the mean barista from beanies.

-emma perkins, biology and botany teacher! botany is an elective she runs and all the potheads take it but thats ok. 7th year at hatchetfield high, her daughter janie goes there and her husband paul works at sycamore!

-tom houston, shop teacher! mean and grouchy and horrible but its ok the kids love him. this ones canon idk what to say. 18th year at hatchetfield high with a 2 year break in the middle for mental health issues

-becky barnes, health and intro to healthcare teacher! she doesnt factor in much but shes there and everyone loves becky barnes <333 21st year at hatchetfield high

-bill woodward, english 1 and 2 teacher! you know all those stereotypes of the english teacher with the patch jacket and the frazzled look, that's him. my guy <333 16th year at hatchetfield high

-linda monroe, band director! bringing this over from npmm but its ok it fits. HORRIBLE teacher but her band is great. idk shes just always been there one day she was the first chair piccolo and then the next she was teaching no gap

-charlotte sweetly, culinary and pastry teacher! she tells her students about her messy divorce and they all care sooo much about her. 19th year at hatchetfield high

-sylvia holmes, ap lit and ap lang teacher! not much to say about her, she's got a lil flirtation w bill going on, shes there. 11th year at hatchetfield high!

-melissa ???, office receptionist. she seems sweet but there's something. idk. off.

-ted spankoffski, gym teacher! all they do is play dodgeball and cry but somehow he still works here. 8th year at hatchetfield high

[lolo3h]

Asexual Ranks How Hot the Pokemon Professors Are

In honor of pokemon day, I'm doing this ranking. This is a joke meant to be taken semi-seriously. Rated on a scale from 1 to 10, 1 meaning I would be repulsed and 10 meaning I could marry them (platonically)

Oak

I mean he seems nice enough? He’s smart, but forgetful, but also a great pokemon battler. He’s also a celebrity which would be annoying if I were to hang out with them. I suppose living in the lab would be fun.

5/10

Elm

I know he’s clumsy and forgetful, but it’s sort of charming. He’s also more quiet and lowkey compared to the other professors which would be nice. He also has a wife and kid so he’s a good husband and parent, I guess?

6/10

Birch 

He’s energetic and outdoorsy, which is fun but maybe a little too much for me. He seems like a good dad so that’s nice, but I’d imagine he’s too busy to be a proper spouse. But I got to give points for his generosity for allowing the player to keep the pokemon he brought

6/10

Rowan

He seems too stuffy and serious, but apparently has a kind side. I don’t know, it just seems like I would accidentally make him angry somehow. Maybe it's trauma from Kamado kicking us out of the village

3/10

Juniper

The first mainline professor to be a girl, we love women in stem. Apparently she’s also the first of the “hot professor” trend, which is the reason I’m doing this. Her research is the most interesting to me

7/10

Sycamore

Okay, this is the first professor that I actually understand why people find him attractive (no offense to the others, you’re all pretty). I like his relationship with Lysandre, it gives him a bit of sad boy charm. His theme is also the best (again, no offense to the others).

9/10

Kukui

He’s already in a loving relationship with Burnet so he has to be a good husband, not to mention he’s a good father figure (to Lillie in the games and to Ash in the anime). Although I’d imagine he would make a mess with him researching pokemon moves. Him being a strong battler is also fun

8/10

Magnolia

I don’t have much to say about her considering she wasn’t in the story much. She has a good design, I like her cane

5/10

Sonia

I really like her personality and how active she was in the story. Her being in the shadow of her grandmother and learning what to do with her life is interesting. I love all the hearts on her outfit and hair

9/10

Laventon

He’s really kind, welcoming the player into the village and standing with us when we were banished. I like his narration for the pokedex descriptions, it makes him more charming. It makes me a little sad that he’s probably dead in modern games but I bet he had a fulfilling life

10/10

Sada and Turo

Grouping these together because my opinion of them are mostly the same. They’re both terrible parents but clearly loved Arven, makes their personalities more interesting. I also love their designs, it shows how interested they were about the past/future

7/10

[prince-endymion]

I've seen so many awesome takes on Desmond Sycamore's dead wife on here! Making her really cool or making the wife a husband instead... I love seeing it all.

I happen to have my own dead wife OC that I really adore and have just been. Nervous?? To talk about?? I made her with a friend of mine. I laid out her story and personality and it made her initial designs.

This is my attempt at making a Layton sprite of her (I could do better. Am I gonna? Probably not). Her name is Cecilia!! I LOVE Cecilia. She makes me very happy.

Personally, I always saw Desmond (and Descole you know how it is) as gay. And he still is to me. Cecilia is AroAce. Their relationship and marriage is purely platonic. A lavender marriage. They adore each other, they're best friends, but there's no romance between them. Their marriage winds up being like a shield to protect each other considering the times.

She comes from a more well off family, living in a beautiful area by the Thames. She was an opera singer, a soprano, prima Donna of her opera house. She also had great appreciation for marine life, having a passion for the ocean and sea creatures. She cares for some little jellyfish that she absolutely adores.

Cecilia died due to Targent. After getting a No from Desmond on joining them, she tried to sacrifice herself in order to give Desmond and their daughter Carlotta a chance to escape.

[oceandiagonale]

Yeah the divorce for Lysandre and sycamore is real here, sycamore gets the kids btw, originally my plan was for it to just be xerneas, because he only says that immortal line to the kids in X meanwhile In Y it's a death threat, but both would be neat I dunno.

Lysandre also doesn't die from it either, he does the thing you know where he meets up with sycamore after because husband's, it does not go well sycamore is a very upset dad to not only Cecile but all the other kids. The dad's fight

"I know you're upset mi amor but-"

"upset? Lysandre I'm furious. I trusted you- those children trusted you! Our child trusted you. And you try to do this? You try to.. to.."

"I was going to make the rest beautiful, they were so close amor- they would have led a beautiful new world into harmony-"

"they're children! Even if we ignore everything else wrong with this they're still children who deserve to live their own lives. Not be little models for a world made on thousands of deaths! And you wanted to do that to our son.."

"I know it sounds bad-"

"it is bad! How can you not see that this is bad? They looked up to you, they thought- I.. thought you were on my side. Instead you try mass murder leaving only your grunts and these children alive?!"

"mi amor I was going to get you- I wouldn't let you die with this ugly world-"

"do not. Do not call me that Lysandre, after all this... Do not call me that.. did you not even think of if I wanted that? If the children wanted that? Or was the only thing that mattered this new world?"

".. sycamore you are beautiful, you and our child are the most perfectly beautiful people I have met, you are kind and loving and want to help. This world is not. This world is ugly and it kills and I was going to-"

"to wipe it all out? Decide everyone's fate? What about yours, Lysandre? Did you ever think about you?"

"...yes. I know where I stand, when someone as beautiful as you looks at me with such ugly disgust.. but I am willing to die to make the world as beautiful as you, it's what you deserve mi amor"

"...leave. leave me and these children alone. I know who's looking for you, I will call them here if you don't leave now."

"....as you wish, amor."

Throughout the journey the kids do meet Lysandre alot more then in game because he wants to make sure they're actually becoming beautiful but he uses the excuse of checking in for sycamore so it's less suspicious plus saying he's also invested in the kids journey. Both him and sycamore pop in more, Cecile being there and that being their kid helps for that, so the whole group is basically like "new dad's??? New dad's?" And cecile has to share

AUGH THEY ARE SO DIVORCED...... CANON BEHAVIOR TBH 😭😭😭

it's probably for the best, lys has Issues he needs to work out but it's still sad 😔😔😔

[jonphaedrus]

AO3 First Lines Tag Game

Tagged by @caparrucia

Rules: Share the first lines of ten of your most recent fanfics and tag ten people. If you have written fewer than ten, don’t be shy and share anyway.

o boy well fffx is no longer anonymous so

A Life for Compassion (Warriors Cats. Yes, really,) A desperate scream of fury, a ghastly choking sound, his body convulsed, his legs jerked, and Tigerstar felt the cut Scourge had given him open.

Nuits Blanches (with @insecateur, pokemon x/y) “So,” Augustine prompted, leaning over the café table towards where Diantha was checking her texts, “what’s this guy like?”

belief (pokemon x/y) Lysandre spent his day on his knees, bound by nothing and no-one, mouth split wide on a ring gag, blindfolded and waiting for use.

hearts always hurt more while they are learning (pokemon x/y, go read my novel go, go read it) A mountain of a man: They call him the ginger yeti, he’s secretly part bear, says fewer words than all the glaciers in the Alps combined, you’re more likely to get a full sentence out of the wind, the legendary, one and only… “Excuse me,” says Lysandre d’Orléans, dressed for the cold and the snow in the low witching-hour blackness of two in the morning, standing at the cable car up toward the Dent du Géant.

Diantha Carnet's Studio Award Sausage Surprise Explained (pokemon x/y) Diantha Carnet (40) made headlines earlier this year after the birth of her second child and her retirement as Champion of Kalos when she confirmed rumors about the true nature of her polyamorous relationship with the father of her children, Professor Augustine Sycamore (48) and his husband, Lysandre Sycamore (43).

that long-sought land (pokemon x/y) “Spread your cunt for me.”

what's the use of wavering? (pokemon x/y) Fourteen is not a particularly notable number when it comes to anniversaries (more notable is Augustine turning forty in August) but they are not about to overlook an opportunity to celebrate surviving and thriving.

Calamity Chef (tales of the abyss) Anise Tatlin has never had anything so gauche as manners.

babygirl (pokemon x/y) “I bet you could come just from being spanked,” Professor Sycamore had said, after he’d spent the better part of an afternoon beating Lysandre’s ass so swollen and red that it practically glowed.

plug and play (pokemon xy) When Lysandre comes in from the rain, shaking water off of his umbrella, he finds Augustine sitting sprawled out in his desk chair, capping and uncapping his pen, twisting it back and forth between his hands.

im not tagging anyone but if you want to feel free to do it. wow i write a lot of pokemon x/y porn

[arvensimp]

Not a request, but in regards to musical Arven-

Personally, I can't work in silence. I will go nuts getting sidetracked by everything if I don't have some sort of stimulation to keep me focused.

While I don't think they'd be playing music or anything, I imagine the professors are similar, listening to something to keep focused. Something Arven could've picked up on.

They probably were listening to recordings of themselves while in the Crater taking verbal notes, or possibly audio versions of research papers- Terrarestalizing would still be a thing being studied, no doubt, and I hc as them getting help from Sycamore on it as it's similar to Mega Evolution. So it's possible that Arven picked up this quirk of theirs and listens to audio books.

(They possibly sang him lullabies when he was really little, just to get him to sleep/before becoming so obsessed with their research)

I hear you!! Personally I hate silence, but my husband is a neuroscientist PhD and his mind is usually going so fast with all of his research thoughts that when we're home together unless we're actively watching something, we keep silence (or play really soft things like white noise type of vibes). He just doesn't like to have music passively playing.

But I LOVE the idea of arven liking audiobooks as a comfort thing. Lonely boy just wants to hear voices nearby.

[a-tale-of-legends]

Quick Legendverse professor thoughts

Birch is still a professor in his old age! Well I say old but he would be, what 54 by SV in my timeline?...okay so he is pretty old. But that ain't stopping him! Still very good at field research, would go out a lot with Amber to do research together from time to time. For old nostalgia's sake. Also, yes, Amber taught him some basic pokemon battling stuff and gave him some pokemon so he doesn't get mauled by a poocheyena. Again.

Rowan properly retires once Kiran comes back and is healthy to go out again. He still is in the academic space, occasionally being a guest speaker for some colleges and such, but nowadays he spends most of his time at home, living comfortably. The kids ( who aren't exactly kids anymore) visit him often! ( He would be like. 76 by SV).

Juniper and Fennel both seem to strive in the busy environments around them, Juniper especially, so needless to say, they're both still active around this time. Though, both take a back seat for their younger apprentices to shine. They're married too, but that doesn't surprise anyone really.

I'm not sure if Elm would retire or not.... actually. I take that back. He would retire. But only because Aiko forced him too. The man is too committed to his work, he needs a rest. He's honestly not used to relaxing, so his early retirement was difficult for him. He had to be doing something you know? Fortunately for him ( and unfortunately for his wife/j) he found hobbies. Lots and lots of hobbies. Don't get me wrong, his wife is very supportive and very happy that he's finally talking the time to be with the family and rest, but there's only so much space she's willing to give up. They work it out don't worry. But yeah! Elm's pretty happy !

Kukui got a beautiful wife, an amazing husband, and a bunch of kids ( one being his biological son). He's living the best life man. Kukui has not retired, and doesn't plan to for a long time. He's still a mentor to Lillie, and may also be one for Hop? I haven't decided, but it would be cool.

Magnolia, as you know, retired. She's still alive and kicking mind you, just enjoying life as it is. Sonia is thriving. Her book sold millions ( at least I assume so if Naranja Uva academy has them), and she had never felt so motivated in her life. She loves her job, loves teaching Hop what she can , loves that she and Leon are finally talking again, love that she can hang out with her friends again- just a whole bunch of love. She's so happy and fulfilled.

With time wounds heal. That applies to sycamore. He's been through the motions, to put it simply. Grief, anger, confusion, betrayal- he has felt this for a long time. And some of that still lingers. But he's content now. Happier. He got himself an apprentice in Trevor, he got to see his nephew ( not actually his nephew but who cares) learn to forgive himself for his actions ( something that he himself hasn't done until much later), see Jude become a better person, and Shauna and Tierno expand their creative outlets. He couldn't be prouder. He's also going to therapy now. He realized there's a lot of things he needs to unpack. He dipped his toes into the dating sphere again. Nothing much. I guess he's trying to prove to himself he still got it...that he's still okay. But overall, Sycamore has healed and is still healing. He's much better than he was by the end of XY, that's for sure.

.....That was not quick at all lmao. I hope you enjoyed the read!

( and if you're wondering about professor oak, no clue what to do with him really, let alone if that man is alive. Honestly? He probably is. This is pokemon. But still. I just know that his relationship with his grandkids is complicated.)