#i'm just going to pocket these mushrooms in case i need to make other trips like this

[jimlingss]

can i request a yoongi chef au? i feel like yoongi's culinary skills are underrated, and I'm just a slut for chef aus in general

Anonymous said: Hi I saw ur request open posts for the new year!!! Could u write more yoongi stories🥺?!?! Your stories are so fantastic and i’m thirsty for more yoongi lolol🤪(hopefully u get enough votes to do more of him haha)

I feel like Jin’s the one who’s usually written as the chef, prob because he’s the better known chef in BTS, but you’re right! There’s gotta be more chef Yoongi!AUs, so here you go!!!

↳ Buttering Up

2.2k || 100% Fluff & Flirtation || Min Yoongi || Chef!AU

He clearly doesn’t know who you are.

“Sorry to keep you waiting.”

You hum, arms crossed as you eye him up and down. His black hair is practically a bowl cut, bangs covering his forehead. He’s in casual clothes — a taupe trench and black pants — looking like he’s ready for a trip to the grocery store rather than to cook. You wonder where this child crawled out from.

“You’re Yoongi?”

“That I am.” He approaches the door of the restaurant before plunging his hands inside his trench coat pockets. He fishes out the key and unlocks it, ushering you inside. “Hope you don’t mind that the restaurant’s closed down.”

You mind much more that he left you waiting on the cold city street for over ten minutes. You still can’t believe he was late. The audacity.

“I would’ve liked to see how you and your staff do your dinner service.”

“Unfortunately, we’re booked full for the next two months.”

You scoff — how doesn’t he know who you are? You’re a food critic who’s brought highly regarded restaurants to their knees through a review of five sentences. Your words alone has had rippled effects in the industry. Even the most talented chefs hold their breaths when you taste-test.

You make Gordon Ramsey look like Mother Teresa.

This Yoongi character is much too arrogant to not respect you. His new and upcoming restaurant might have raving reviews, but you’ll see what’s really going on.

“Sit wherever you’d like.”

There are no waiters in fancy garb, no hand sewn tablecloths made of silk. He doesn’t even pull out the chair for you. Instead, he’s off flickering on the lights of the restaurant while you choose a wooden table and chair right in front of his open kitchen — which is a horrible mistake in itself.

Open kitchens have always been a concept that has fallen short in your eyes. It’s much too noisy during dinner service and it gets smelly fast. Who actually wants to leave smelling like butter and oil?

It’s something you note as you get settled. 

Your coat drapes at the back of the chair and then you watch him. Yoongi’s taken off his trench as well, revealing a white long sleeve that he’s beginning to roll up to his elbows. He’s lean and his build is small, but somehow, he’s far from being scrawny. You gawk at the veins running up his forearm until he casually asks—

“Do you have a preference for wine?”

“I’m fine with any.”

He hums and comes over from the glass cabinet with a bottle of chardonnay and a wine glass. Yoongi pops the bottle easily and pours into the pristine glass with a mere tilt of his wrist. You watch the stream fill the glass a quarter way full.

“Is there a menu?”

“You don’t need one.”

Your brows raise. “Excuse me?” 

“If I were you, I’d put myself in the chef’s hands entirely and go with their recommendation.” He strides away, placing the wine bottle on the other table and then he turns with a glint in his eye and his mouth slightly crooked upwards. “Unless, of course, you don’t trust your chef.”

Oh. He’s confident. 

You can’t wait for his ego to blow up in his face.

“Fine then.” Your head tilts upwards. “What’s your recommendation then?”

He rounds his way to go into the kitchen that’s only a few meters away from where you sit. “Risotto with grilled chicken breast, topped off with caramelized onions, mushroom, grilled zucchini and sautéed tomatoes.”

You roll your eyes. What a basic dish. Isn’t it just rice? And with chicken breast?! Ew. It's guaranteed to be bland.

“Alright then.” You give a smile that might be more mocking than intended. “We’ll see how it tastes.”

Yoongi starts and while sipping the chardonnay, you take a good look at the restaurant from your spot. The place is rustic with a hint of contemporary. There’s exposed brick, wooden tables and chairs, and low, yellow lighting. There’s nothing particularly impressive about the place.

Soon, the sound of rapid, rhythmic chopping fills the space and then sizzling. You watch him intently. And you’re appalled. This Yoongi guy commits the worst cooking sins — his pan is cold when he starts throwing on ingredients. He cooks with olive oil. He overcrowds the pan. And he doesn’t even taste test once as he cooks.

What the actual fuck. 

There’s a line between arrogance and insanity, and he was crossing it.

You cringe when he starts using his metallic spatula on the non-stick skillet.

Is he even qualified to run a restaurant?!

Or maybe your assistant sent you information about the wrong restaurant? Or maybe this was not the guy you were supposed to be eating from. What if he poisons you or kills off all of your taste buds?! Your career would be ruined.

“Everything going okay?” you pipe up.

He glances up at you for the first time, eyes peering past his bangs. “Yep. Should be done in five.”

Food is simple. It either tastes good or it doesn’t. But the higher up you go and the fancier it gets, the more convoluted the food tastes with bland flakes of gold and the same old truffle shavings. That or it’s entirely boring and unoriginal. 

Or in this case, it might kill you. Which would be the first. And you’re not happy about it.

You feel unsettled when he plops the dish in front of you.

“Chef’s recommendation.”

“Thanks.”

You feel unsettled because it actually smells good. The aroma that fills your senses is flavoursome and buttery, and the thyme on top adds a fresh hint. You’re also unsettled because the plating isn’t actually bad. It’s been presented in a pasta bowl with wavy designs and the chicken breast is thinly and neatly sliced on top. It’s clean. It’s bright. It’s colourful.

But the most lethal poisons are the appetizing ones.

“Are you going to wait until it gets cold?”

You look up, brows raising at how he’s gotten comfortable in the chair across from you. Usually the chefs and waiters or waitresses like to skedaddle off and leave you to your own thoughts, too afraid to stand in your intense scrutiny. But Min Yoongi twists off the cap of his water bottle and casually downs it in front of you.

“I’m just looking at the presentation.”

“Tastes better than it looks,” he exhales after swallowing his water. 

Your expression becomes skeptical. But you take the silver spoon beside you anyhow and decide not to waste any more time.

The spoonful goes into your mouth. He watches you. You chew.

Instantly, you halt. 

The flavour hits your tongue. Creamy. Thick. But each individual grain of rice still has some firmness with a discernible texture. It’s been done al dente. There’s sweetness from the caramelized onions. An earthy flavour from the mushrooms. A zesty touch from the thyme. The chicken breast is somehow still juicy and the tomatoes burst on your palate. 

Suddenly, you’re thrusted back into your childhood. Those summer days spent in the cottage. Sun-kissed cheeks, dirtied knees, cotton dresses. You can hear your late grandmother in the kitchen. The way she calls out that it’s lunchtime. You can feel the comfort of family and love.

It feels like you’ve become the food critic in the ratatouille movie. 

You almost cry.

“What do you think?”

You clear your throat. You have to be honest. There’s no way you can lie about something like this. “It’s good. I think...this is the best risotto I’ve ever had. You cooked it perfectly and the toppings you chose were absolutely immaculate with this dish—”

You look up at him. Min Yoongi has an enormous, cocky smirk plastered across his stupid face.

It’s entirely off-putting. 

“But of course,” you quickly add, “there are many ways you could improve on it. You could add cilantro—”

“That would unnecessarily drown out the notes of thyme you taste,” he rebukes without a single beat and you scoff. 

“I noticed you didn’t add any pepper to it which could deepen the flavour.”

“Except this dish doesn’t need it,” Yoongi deadpans. “You don’t need to help me make any adjustments. I think I know what I’m doing better than you are. Just do your job and I’ll do mine.”

You suck in your cheek and narrow your eyes on him before you take another bite of the risotto while it’s still hot. “The food is delicious, but I must say, the company really spoils it.”

Yoongi’s slumped with one cheek resting in his hand, elbow on the table. He lazily stares at you with that smirk of his. “Really? Because if I didn’t know any better, you look nervous rather than annoyed.”

You scoff for the second time. “Why would I be nervous?”

“Maybe you didn’t expect the food to taste as good as it does and that makes me unexpectedly attractive,” he states plainly. You almost choke. You hit your chest as you sputter. “Or maybe you’re intimidated by me. I’ve gotten both before.”

You wipe your mouth with the napkin. “I’m afraid you’re not very perceptive, Min Yoongi.”

“Really? I think I am.” He smiles, the corners of his mouth quirked. “I’ve read your reviews before.”

You’re unamused. “Have you now? So you must know how difficult I am to satisfy.”

His smirk is sly and it’s jarring against his softer, more tender features. He’s smaller than the men you’re used to being around, but somehow it feels like he’s taken up the entire space of the restaurant. His focus on you is sweat-inducing. Even if you don’t want to admit it. 

“I don’t think so. You’ve just been eating shit food,” he says bluntly and your brow cocks. “You just need someone good you can trust. Someone who can take care of you properly.”

You’re not sure if the double entendre is purposeful. You wouldn’t put it past him.

“And is this someone you?”

Yoongi shrugs and sits back. “It could be.”

You grab your glass of chardonnay and gulp the rest in an effort to stop the conversation before it completely derails into a different direction. Yet, Yoongi’s half-lidded and darkened eyes stay on yours with each swallow. He’s unfazed. Unbothered. And that bothers you even more — bothered in a way that makes your face hot.

There’s a clack as you put the wine glass down and gasp. 

“I’m a professional.” You won’t be swayed so easily. “I can’t be bribed.”

“Of course.” He blinks as if he doesn’t know what you’re talking about. You glare at him and he gestures to the dish. “Please. Keep eating.” 

You finish the plate.

“Do you want any seconds?” he asks as he gets up.

“I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?” Yoongi lingers, all too brazen and fearless. “If you don’t get any more now, you might have to come back for more.”

This time, you don’t try to hide the roll of your eyes. “That’s a presumptuous assumption.”

Yoongi smirks and his voice is husky. “After getting a taste from me, everyone comes back for more.

You scoff.

Min’s Restaurant Review

Three nights ago, I ate at Min’s Restaurant and met the main man in the kitchen. Unfortunately, he is a difficult person to interact with. I hope no one has the disservice of having to speak to the chef behind the dishes. Doing so may as well ruin the experience. Furthermore, his cooking methods are unconventional and unorthodox. It was completely shocking to watch.

However, and what I would consider most important, the food at Min’s Restaurant is spectacular. What Min’s Restaurant lacks in likeable personnel, they make up in the served cuisine. The meal that was prepared for me not only subverted my initial expectations, but overcomes, what I consider, what the food industry is lacking in this modern age exactly. Without unnecessary garnishes and ingredients, the flavours of Min’s Restaurant are both light and deep. It was an undeniable delight to consume and for the first time, I licked my plate clean. 

It is undoubted that the man behind Min’s Restaurant has the hands of god.

You should have pride.

But you’ve always loved good food. It’s your Achilles heel. It’s the one thing you’ve been passionate about since you were a kid. The reason why you love your job.

Even after writing such a review, you find yourself booking another reservation. But as a customer instead of a critic.

Of course, they were booked full for the next six months, largely thanks to your review, and they swiftly refused you with numerous apologies. But they called back not ten minutes later. You have a feeling that your name finally sunk into them — that he had something to do with it. 

That theory is confirmed when you arrive. The person in question is next to the seemingly nervous hostess as the noisy kitchen echoes throughout the busy restaurant. 

In the low lighting, Min Yoongi stands there with a relaxed smirk. As if he was expecting you. As if he knew you’d come crawling back to him to eat out of the palm of his hand, literally and figuratively.

You hate that he’s right.

“Welcome back.”

[nobodysuspectsthebutterfly]

Ew. Never realized you took that as Viserys dying for his brother's death, neither the Daemon being imprisoned. Lol. All the contrary. Viserys dies when he hears his brother RETURNS (that is, he's not quite dead) and he knows war is coming because he allowed Rhaenyra to be married to Aegon since no other suitable line was available for Rhaenyra, so have it married and Alicent would shut her mouth in his presence. Daemon goes missing because dragonhit BUT survives and lives in wild far inland 1/2

So there are problems with living in the wild, trying not to be captured for slavery, then going to the coast and trying to get a ship, return to their supposed base or, if this army left or died out, then return to Westeros, well either way he hears news of Rhaenyra being married and having kids with Aegon, then returns immediately, Viserys hears it and die because now he knows war is inevitable, and his health is frail at this point. Of course, the timeline problems, so, IDK, just saying.

And just to be clear, my whole question was when Rhaenyra is ALREADY married to Daemon. The thing comes that Viserys allowed the marriage between his children begetting more children but then Daemon comes, so that’s the heart of the matter. The war on the Stepstones is either a second one or the first one having been to a much later date. Just that.

uhhhhhhhhhhhhh…. your clarification makes even less sense than your original question, sorry. So, Rhaenyra marries Laenor, has kids, then marries Daemon, has kids, and then Daemon disappears? (Doing what, IDEK, there was no war at the Stepstones at that time. He didn’t go east either. Are you mixing him up with Corlys?) And then Rhaenyra marries Aegon (who didn’t marry Helaena or anyone else god knows why) despite the fact that she hated him and he hated her and Viserys absolutely refused to let them marry, and has even more kids? And then Daemon comes back and that’s when Viserys dies? What the hell?

You’re not kidding when you say this timeline has problems. And sorry, man, but if you want to do a plausible what-if, you make a change to the original timeline, a big possible change with lots of ripple effects, not a dozen wild crazy changes involving all kinds of out-of-character whackadoo to set up your whatever. Otherwise you end up with shit like this:

And look, Daemon wasn’t the reason for the Dance. The Dance happened because Viserys raised Rhaenyra as his heir and insisted she was his heir even while remarrying and having sons that by law precede her in the succession. It happened because Rhaenyra slept with her knight protector and had very obvious bastards she still claimed were her gay husband’s, and was brought up believing that royalty means you should act imperiously and have people executed when they argue with you. It happened because ambitious Alicent and her party hated Rhaenyra and raised her sons to hate her and her sons. It happened because Westeros is deeply misogynistic, because all the people in charge were fuckheads, and because of the occasional good person serving said fuckheads obeying without question. Daemon and his various roguish ambitions were just one element of many.

So, I don’t even know what you’re trying to do with the “Viserys dies because Daemon’s back and Rhaenyra’s married Aegon and this means war!” No. That’s silly. Aegon marrying Rhaenyra after she’s a grown woman (over 30) and has been married twice and has had 5 sons already (three of which he knows are bastards, who have seriously bad blood with him and his brothers) is silly, and fucking impossible. Just to “beget more children”? Why?

The only only only possible way Aegon marries Rhaenyra is per the situation I outlined before, instead of her marrying Laenor and ruining her reputation and potential with bastards, because Viserys died and he can’t object to it anymore and because someone on her side convinced her it was the best way she could be queen. Or idk, mayyybe if Alicent dies after having Aegon and can’t poison his mind against Rhaenyra (Otto Hightower drops dead too), and there’s no Greens party and someone manages to convince Viserys it’d be the best way he could ensure the heir he chose could come to the throne. But it’s definitely not happening after Rhaenyra’s been married twice already and all the history and shit that happened with that.

And even if it did (because everyone in Westeros ate bad mushrooms and went “whoopsie! let’s do all kinds of stupid crazy senseless things completely opposite to our personalities and all the political ideals we follow!”), there’s no damn reason why Daemon being suddenly back from the dead after some years MIA would mean war immediately, anyhow. Hell, if I were him, and I came back to find Aegon II and Rhaenyra snuggling away in glorious matrimony with their babies who are super-low in the succession, with Alicent and Otto and Viserys all cooing in happiness at their plans coming together, and Aemond and Daeron and Lucerys and Jacaerys and Joffrey holding hands and singing Kumbaya… I’d leave to find a maester, or maybe take some of those mushrooms myself and join in the circle, because what the fucking hell.

[rotomgender-moved]

Runs in Our Family, Part two

Warnings: Ask To Tag, Injuries

Word Count: 2.3K

Part Two

The first thing N noticed was the sheer noise that we're coming from this group of children. Second, was the child on child violence going on-

Where are their parents? It made them confused and concerned for a moment, did they not have a chaperone? Who would trust children with pokemon on their own?

It was when he saw someone cowering in the corner that he realized, yes, they did have a chaperone. They've just dethroned the poor guy.

"Pl-ease calm yourselves!" The man squawked, "We can't have anyone getting hurt! Especially Wally, the poor boy is sickly enough!" As soon as the man's gaze met N's, he got up and quickly struttsd over with the grace of a swana. "Oh thank Arceus- can you please help out? Entertain them for a bit so I can set up lunch? The triplets and Mallow asked me to distract them, but they're treating me as a joke-"

"I'll help. My name is N."

"Thank you, oh thank you so much! My name is Wallace, I was a gym leader back in Hoenn." Wallace greeted with a relieved sigh. "Just give me a moment, I'm sure you can handle it for a few minutes. I just need to grab a change of clothes so these ones dont get dirtied, they're a bitch to handwash." He chuckled a little, patting N's shoulder and slipping by.

"... language." N muttered quietly. 

He felt eyes bearing into him as the room suddenly fell silent, Ruby spoke up.

"This is the guy with the white dragon Nate was talking about! All the cool pokemon that he can talk to!" The boy grinned, throwing his hands up.

"Uhm… Hello-?"

"He looks like a twig." A voice spoke up, one with that accent he couldn't place who paralyzed him. The little brats.

"Yeah… He- He looked like a mess-"

"Okay! Okay that's enough!" As Rosa and Nate approached, tugging Hugh behind them like a ragdoll, N snapped his head to them.

"Why did you tell them about the white dragon?" N hissed, giving the twins and their friend a glare. "You aren't meant to just-"

"Shut up, N, anyways!" Rosa continued. "He's sensitive, so don't touch him or be too loud. Or pull his hair, I got bit for that once."

"He bit you?" A gasp came from a blond girl playing with her tall, blue frog pokemon. 

"No, Ex, his Unphezant did. Wh- Why would he bite me?"

"Isn't he that guy that Bede nearly killed in the woods?" Ex said, and a gasp came from one of those kids, as though he had been personally offended. From how he looked, N assumed Bede was one of the kids on the boat in a fight.

"It was not me! It was Gloria and you all know it!" He spat. 

"It wasn't me, it was Victor!" Gloria hissed back. 

"It was me- stop fighting you aggressive dunces." Victor smacked the back of Gloria's head. "Sorry about that again, Mint-Boy."

N starred in awe at how fast all these kids started antagonizing each other. It was almost impressive how tense the energy in the room is. He looked down to Hugh.

"Is this how it always is?" 

"Yeeeaaaah, just about."

"Oh my…" N took in a sharp intake of breath as Wallace returned, immediately sighing in defeat. Wallce had this elegant energy tacked on him that was absolutely torn due to the rowdiness of all the kids. 

"Did they give you too much trouble?"

"No, they were distracted tearing each other apart."

"I see, well. How about you show off your pokemon, or battle one of them? I'm sure they'd appreciate the form of stimulation that isn't… Whatever Silver, Gold and Crystal do." He motioned his hand to a group of three. That foulmouthed redhead getting put in a headlock by a brunette boy. Who seemed to be playfully insulting him while a young girl kept score on a piece of paper.

"Yeah… I'll do that." N nodded, stepping towards the group while Wallace went to break up the rough housing between the three mineral-named children. He immediately was met by a small, frail green haired boy, who had a nervous smile and a cheerful wave.

"Hello, sir! I was told you could speak with pokemon. I wanted to ask if you could hear what my pokemon can say?"

"Oh, uh." N wasn't sure what to do, ever since he had left Team Plasma he had never been around so many people. He thought back on Zoroark's words. That talking to people would do him some good. "Yes, I can do that for you and… Whoever else wants me to." He promised, sitting down.

"I'm Wally, it's a pleasure to meet you."

"Call me N."

He met many faces so quickly! Barry, the energetic boy with a Staraptor who seemed to have nearly the exact same spunk. Wally and his elegantly worded Gallade, who worked tirelessly to defend the boy. The endlessly smiling Hop and his gruff, aloof Dubwool, as well as learning that the four accented children are from a place called Galar. Ex and Wy, two twins with teams that seemed to completely mirror one another. The hot headed Silver and his Magnasium, who N believes that Zororak would get along wonderfully with. 

Seeing all these trainers and pokemon with such diverse personalities couldn't help but make him smile. Especially the grins that they got being able to know exactly what they're pokemon thought of them. Silver's reaction made him the most joyful, seeing the boy try to hide that toothy little grin and begin to ride on his grass types back, whispering to her and thanking her. It made N's heart swell, so much so that he had to return the favor and do as he promised Ruby.

He released nearly all of his team except one; Zoroark, Vanilluxe, Archen, Unphezant and Klinklang. Leaving the white dragon out of this. Some seemed unimpressed, having seen all of these pokemon before. But quick as a bolt of multicolored lightning, some of them rushed over to examine them.

"What is it?" chimed Crystal, running her fingers through Archens feathers.

"Oh you're really tough-looking!" Barry grinned, Klinklang allowing the blond to feel its many gears. 

"This is that Zoroak you were talking about, right?" Sapphire questioned, examining the illusionist's paws. 

Question after question was thrown his way, as N chuckled and tried to keep up. 

"This is Klinklang, he's an electric-steel type pokemon. This is Archen, a flying-rock type. Be careful, it's shy! Zoroark is a dark type, Vanilluxe is an Ice type, and Unphezant. A flying-normal type." N explained, smiling a little as Zoroark nodded in approval. He began to ramble on about the pokemon, answering any questions and quieting down to listen to any of the kids' connections, stories and such. It seemed to calm down… Almost all of them. Except for one, who he had found left the room at some point… Wallace was gone as well. Maybe he had gone off with one of them for one reason or another? It caused confusion and worry to boil deep down inside his belly as he quickly realized which of the kids was missing.

Where had Sapphire slipped off all the sudden?

/// Sapphire ///

"Wallace, come on!" Sapphire called over her shoulder, dashing through the forest. In front of her ran her Blaziken, slapping away vines and thick brush so that the others behind it wouldn't trip and fall. Above them, the call of a Skarmory alerted them that Steven Stone was keeping up well and various other cries of pokemon meant that the entire group was keeping up.

Sapphire was in the lead as Wallace, Steven, Red, Iris and Cheren kept up. There was a disturbance, they knew that was true. It was something that they could just tell deep inside them, something Sapphire knew all too well. A tight ball in her guts that her pokemon seemed to feel as well.

"Over here!" Cheren called out over his shoulder, the cry of his serperior confirming his claim. "I saw the flash of a pokemon being returned! Tuxedo, short hair from the silhouette I saw!"

"Got it, Skarmory that way!" Steven called from above, leading the group away. 

"I'll check over there in case they run!" Sapphire yelled to the group, hearing a grunt of approval from Blue as she ran off with Sceptile. Her running steps crunched the leaves as the leaves thickened above. Blotting out the sky and leaving the light being emitted from glowing flowers, vines and mushrooms. 

The deeper she ran, the more the air thickened with the smell of heavy, damp leaf mold and sickly sweet tree sap. The deeper she ran… The more she realized how lost she got herself in the heat of the moment. 

Sapphire was lost in an unrecognizable part of the forest, lit merely by glowing plants and fungus and silence broken by the movement of distant pokemon and whistling wind. As she walked, she felt the ground disappear from her feet. Before she knew it, she was tumbling down into a small ditch. Sapphire yelped as she fell, feeling a pain in her arm as she hit the ground.

"Ow- ow." She groaned, slowly getting up as Sceptile slid down to follow its owner. When she got up, her Sceptile put a claw on her shoulder, grunting and looking around in preparation to attack at any moment. That moment came soon then she thought, two pairs of eyes suddenly lighting up the darkness, the movement of something stalking and something else dragging itself. 

She backed into the Sceptile out of fear, looking up at the narrow-eyed pokemons threatening glare. As the pokemon revealed themselves, Sceptile growled. A large, fiery maned pokemon with a dark brown pelt beside a tall, haunting pokemon made of wood and leaves. A lion and a tree, slowly stalking towards her. As she shut her eyes and slowly pointed, ready to command an attack, a voice spoke from behind the two pokemon. 

"Are you lost, little one?" A smooth and low voice with a kalosant accent, worry panging their voice. As she cracked open her eyes, she was met by a tall and regal man with long, red hair. His face was aged, but only ever so slightly. Maybe in his thirties or forties. "Are you okay?"

"I'm… I ran off trying to find someone that did some bad stuff." Sapphire explained. "Got seperated from my friends."

"Oh my," The man began, approaching a bit and opening a pocket. "You're hurt, let me help you. Show me your arm." The brunette looked, noticing her arm had a bleeding cut. She hadn't even noticed the cut itself when she initially fell, too struck with shock and fear to notice anything but momentary pain. She held out her arm, which the man carefully took in dark-gloved hands. As though he would shatter her in a moment. 

"Thank you." She quietly nodded as he began to clean the wound with some disinfectant pads he had in his pocket. Soon following it uo with two or three bandaids. 

"No need, petit ami. Is your Sceptile alright? I'm sorry if Treevanant and Pyroar caused you any trouble."

"No! No- they just scared us. Sceptile's okay."

"That's good to hear, a relief." He nodded. "My name is Lysander, I was invited here from Kalos. I missed the main boat so I came on a different one." Lysander explained, taking his hands away. 

"Sapphire, Grass Type gym leader in Hoenn." She introduced herself, sticking her injury-free hand out. Which he took and gave a gentle shake."

"Pleasure to male your acquaintance." Lysander nodded. "Allow me to take you to the home of some friends and I, you can rest up for the night and be on your way. It's quite late."

"Is it?" She asked.

"Yes, nearing the faery's hour." He explained, patting Pyroar's back. "Come and sit on him, I'll guide you back. I promise he doesn't bite." Lysander offered, slowly backing away.

Sapphire thought for a moment, this wasn't the first time in her journeys she's accepted such offers, as well as Sceptile being right beside her, she decided her best interest would be to accept. 

"Alright! Thank you again."

"No need." He smiled warmly, directing his pokemon to bend at the knees and allow her to climb on. As they began on the path, he clicked the button of a PokeBall to the Treevanant, returning it. "I'd hate to see someone with an injury rot away into something hideous."

Sapphire nodded, stroking Pyroar's mane with a hum. The pokemon was quite warm and each swish of its tail caused embers to float in the air for a moment. Leaving small wisps of light only to die out, the silence broke as Lysander joined in the humming with a tune. His warm smile has turned softer, more relaxed. 

"What are you humming?" Sapphire tilted her head.

"Oh? An old song from Kalos." He shrugged, only making her curiosity rise.

"Can you sing it? I wanna hear it." She grinned as he knitted his brows in thought. 

"If you wish," He chuckled a little as he cleared his throat. "Forgive if I'm rusty."

"Comme les ténèbres obscurcissent la lumière,

L'or du soleil étouffé par la nuit d'argent

Oh, petit, ne te laisse pas faire confiance

Les sauvages qui font des bonbons avec de la rouille

Ils arpentent les chemins, les forêts de fae,

Et avec la lune ils font ce qu'ils peuvent

La nuit hantée par les fantômes et les Gengar

Ils portent des malédictions de près et de loin

Toutes les personnes de Kanto à Galar

Sachez que les pierres pointues et les roses

Cachez-vous parmi les étoiles."