#mini pokemon fic

[kashmimo]

kiss

[dipplinduo]

Now who will discover the poem that Kieran wrote? If his grandparents saw it, he'd probably bury himself in his room and never come out. If Carmine saw it then he'd chase her around the house, which I'd be all for. We need more of their sibling squabbles, lol. Wait a minute... don't tell me Drayton is going to see it. Please don't say he'll see it; he'll hold it over Kieran's head for the rest of his life!

(Context: The Dichotomy in Our Hearts, Chapter 4)

🥹🥹🥹🥹 I am so happy to get a reaction ask about this fic this geniunely made my day

And listen....😂😂 Lemme just say...something in here may be an accurate prediction. And I'm taking notes on what's standing out to you for the finale chapter...📝📝📝

[theroseredreaper]

this is for the niche crossover of Pokémon and Genshin fans: Wanderer and Mini Durin becoming friends has been living in my head rent free since I finished the event yesterday and now i have this concept stuck in my head of Wanderer finding a lone deino that had been abandoned by its trainer. Wanderer, lost on his own journey of what he wants in life, takes in the deino and names it Durin. Like. Imagine.

[its-ya-girl-phoeni]

New Moves (gift for @zay-does-things)

"I dunno..." I began, awkwardly glancing at the powerful claws I now possessed. "I was kinda thinking I'd be a different one, honestly? Like a flaming bird or something..."

"Why, just because your name's 'Phoeni'?" Zay asked, tilting her head. "I mean, I like Meowstic, which probably explains why I became one, so that probably explains why you're a Rhydon."

"...I suppose..." I muttered. "I always did like that one a lot."

I then sat up. "...Y'know, I've been wondering... can I do that 'Hyper Beam' move now that I'm a Pokémon?"

Zay seemed enthusiastic at the idea. "Oh my gosh, YES! Let's see if you can do it, it'd be so cool!"

"A-Alright... I guess it wouldn't hurt to try, right?"

Taking a deep breath, I began to concentrate on thoughts of the move, what it looked like... and then...

*BZZZT!*

A massive orange laser burst from my mouth, utterly obliterating the rock I had targeted!

We both stood there for a moment, totally shocked.

"That... was... AWESOME!" Zay cheered, clapping wildly.

"I... It was..." I huffed. "I.. I'm like Godzilla or something! I can shoot laser beams outta my mouth!"

"Yeah!" She agreed. "With that, I don't think any bad guys will stand a chance!"

"I guess." I smiled. "Now, how about we try out some of those Psychic moves of yours...?"

[roxannarambles]

teal mask fixit-fic on the fly part 4

(Current story so far: Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3)

The festival had been great fun so far, once you'd all managed to ditch Carmine. It was like any good festival should be; lots of bad fried food; lots of games that were rigged against the player but were cheap enough to try again and again and eventually earn silly prizes; and plenty of opportunity to just generally horse around and not worry about classes or other, weightier matters in life, at least for the evening. Arven was absolutely affronted by the fair food, clamining it to be a culinary crime, so you and Nemona made a point of buying the greasiest and worst snacks and treats so you could to eat them in front of him. Penny had worked out how they'd rigged one of the games--a basketball toss that Arven was annoyed he couldn't win-- and helped him win the next round. (Turns out the ball was intentionally over-inflated and the hoop was higher than regulation). Even Kieran seemed to eventually warm up to everyone and enjoy himself, showing you all one of his favorites of the festival, an informal contest that festival-goers had acting out the heoric feats of the Loyal Three while wearing their masks. After all that messing about, you all just wandered for a bit, enjoying the atmosphere and all the costumes.

Then Carmine caught up to the group again.

She was pretty annoyed, claiming you'd all ditched her; Kieran was quick to tell her that you'd all simply lost her in the crowds, and everyone backed him up on that point. She seemed unconvinced but dropped it, in favor of issuing a challenge to the Paldean students: She claimed none could beat her score at some game called Ogre Ousting and dared one of you to try.

It didn't surprise you at all that Nemona's eyes took on a competitive gleam and she stepped up to the plate to defend Naranja's honor.

"Sure, I'll give it a go!"

Carmine laughed in her face, saying,

"You? Oh, perfect. This should be fun to watch."

There was a heavy tone of sarcasm underlying her words, but Nemona just smiled at her, saying,

"Thanks! So, what are the rules?"

You listened as Carmine explained the game to her in as condescending a way as possible. It was starting to really grind your gears. This girl being snotty to you, you could handle that, but watching her treating Nemona that way was too much. When they'd finished talking and everyone started to walk to the seating that was meant for people observing the games, you reached out and grabbed Nemona's arm.

"Hold on a sec."

She looked at you curiously. You pulled a pokeball from your pocket and handed it to her.

"Here. Why don't you use Koraidon? Give that girl a taste of Paldean pride. I bet they've never had to contend with a pokemon like this before with their little berry game, would be fun to see their reactions."

Nemona's eyes widened a little, but then she shook her head, handing you the ball back.

"No, Koraidon is way faster than any Stantler. I don't want to have any unfair advantages!"

You frowned.

"I heard her explain the rules. Players are allowed to use any ride pokemon they want. It's not cheating."

"I know it's not cheating. But it still wouldn't be very sporting of me."

You sighed, frustrated. You adored Nemona's purehearted respect for competition, but for once it was making things difficult.

"Nemona, that girl isn't as nice as she seems. She was totally disrespecting you and, and . . . she doesn't deserve to be treated that nice, she deserves to be taken down a peg! Plus, she already has an unfair advantage over you. She's played this silly game her whole life, she knows it way better then you do."

Nemona smiled at you softly.

"I know. Thank you for looking out for me, Jules. But I did get the idea she doesn't like me all that much. I'm getting a lot better at noticing that kinda stuff. And I know she already has an advantage over me. But you don't have to worry. Win or lose, I'm gonna do my best and I'll make Paldea proud!"

You gazed at Nemona a moment, her eyes bright and determined.

Then you smiled and let out a sigh.

". . . okay, okay. You know I have complete faith in you, I know you'll do amazing regardless."

Nemona grinned.

"Damn right I will."

You laughed and the two of you went to join the others.

However, once Nemona was set up with the rental Stantler, she realized Carmine wasn't getting ready for the game.

"No, no, I'm not playing. I'm just watching. You have to beat my record, remember? I've already set the record." Carmine told her. Nemona considered that a moment.

"Well, that's boring!" she said.

"Why don't we make it a little more exciting for our friends to watch? We should both play the game at the same time. You have to defend your title right here, right now. Sound good?"

Carmine glared at her, protesting,

"That isn't fair! I shouldn't have to meet my record again, that's not how records work!"

Nemona cast her a curious look.

"You don't want to? I think it could be fun. Or are you worried you can't beat me?"

You smirked as Carmine's face flushed in anger and she growled,

"I could beat some clueless Paldean bug-catcher any time, day or night, with my hands tied behind my back!"

Nemona beamed at her.

"Great! So we're on?"

"Oh we're ON all right. Get your Stantler, I'll set up the second course."

It didn't take too long for them to prepare, and soon both girls were atop their Stantlers, in their respective positions, ready to roll. You and the others were seated in the bleachers, watching expectantly.

The referee called,

"On your marks . . . get set . . . GO!"

The two players were off like rockets, blasting through rows and rows of balloons.

"You can do it, Carmine!" Kieran called out tentatively to his sister.

"KICK HER ASS, NEMONA!" you shouted through cupped hands, startling Kieran. He seemed to think a moment and then stammered,

"Oh, I-I'm-- I'm sorry, I'm rooting for Carmine, but you know, I still like you all too, I just, um . . ."

You laughed and reassured him,

"It's fine. I don't mind, I get it."

"I'm rooting for Carmine too," Arven told Kieran. You shot Arven a glare.

"What? Kieran can but I can't?"

"Carmine's his sister, that just makes him a good brother. You however are being a traitor."

Arven huffed an annoyed noise.

"I am completely impartial," Penny declared, leaning back in her seat. Arven said,

"That just means you don't want to tick anyone off."

"Yeah? And how is that bad?"

"Shhhh, quiet guys, they're coming by to drop the berries off!"

Both girls had returned to the tables to drop off the berries they already had, their buckets laden heavy with the fruits. Then they were off again to gather more. You all spent the time trying to count the berries and estimate who was in the lead, as well as argue over tactics of blasting through the balloons and protecting the tables from Skwovets. The time limit was rapidly drawing to a close, and both girls seemed to be progressing at a very even pace. It was honestly imposible to tell who had the lead.

When the game was called, you all rushed down to the field to watch the referee tally the berry totals. It would come down to the final counts. Nemona stood there, stained in berry juice and beaming, looking tired but proud. You gave her a hug, not minding the berry juice and gushing,

"You did awesome, Nemona! It was your first time but you were running that course like you'd done it dozens of times already!"

She laughed,

"Thanks, Jules. It was really fun! A real adrenaline rush."

When you began to pull away from the hug, she paused to whisper to you,

"Y'wanna know my secret?"

You nodded eagerly. She murmured,

"While they were setting the second course up, I mighta spent the extra time wandering the course and studying it a bit. Thought it wouldn't hurt to be a bit prepared." She winked.

You gave her a proud smile.

"That's mi tesoro, always usin' her head."

"Y-you looked great out there, Carmine. I think you might have even beaten your old record," Kieran told his sister. She didn't acknowledge him, instead just standing there with a tense expression, watching like a hawk as the referee counted the berries one by one.

"He's right, you looked really in the zone out there, I was impressed!" Nemona told her sincerely. Carmine waved a hand and hissed,

"Quiet, I'm counting!"

Everyone fell into an awkward sort of silence as Carmine watched the referee finish tallying the berries. When he'd finally got through them all, he announced in a loud voice;

"Aaaaaand the winner of the Ogre Ousting for tonight . . . at a whopping 20,000 berries . . . isssss . . . ."

The dramatic pause apparently went on for too long, as Carmine snapped,

"Gah! Just tell us already!"

The man gestured to both girls.

"It's a dead tie! You both win!"

"WHAT?! That can't be right! Count it again!"

"I already counted it three times," the man said sternly,

"I take my job very seriously."

"Ugh, this is-- this is ridiculous," Carmine spat, clearly disgusted. Carefully, Nemona said,

"Don't feel bad, Carmine. I mean, we both won, you don't have to feel bad--"

Carmine snapped,

"We didn't both win! Two people winning means nobody won! We still have no clue who's better!"

Nemona frowned.

"Well, we know we're both really amazing at it? I think a tie is kinda neat--"

"Wait, I've got it!" Carmine interrupted, pulling some pokeballs from her fanny pack.

"If we can't settle this with Ogre Ousting, we'll just settle this with a pokemon battle!"

She looked at Nemona expectantly, full of confidance and defiance, as if incredibly pleased with her idea and eager to see Nemona's response.

Nemona was quiet a moment, and then a smile settled onto her pretty features. It was not one of her usual smiles; it was something much more subtle, something almost dangerous.

"A pokemon battle, huh?"

Nemona tossed you a glance and you could hardly hold back your grin and bite back your words, but decided it would be more fun to keep quiet. Nemona's eyes sparkled with mirth. Carmine glanced between you and Nemona, looking faintly confused. Nemona answered her lightly,

"I guess I could try it out! Promise you won't go easy on me, though. I don't wanna feel like I'm getting an undeserved victory or anything."

Carmine snorted.

"I can definitely promise you I won't go easy."

"Good."

You looked to Arven and Penny, smirking. Arven said hesitantly,

"Carmine, you miiiight wanna reconsi--"

"Hush, Arven, let them fight," you say to him mildly, putting a hand on his mouth to silence him. He swatted you away.

"Yeah, this could be fun to watch," Penny said, grinning.

Penny was right, the battle was incredibly fun to watch, but not in the way Carmine had been hoping.

[sexysilverstrider]

It hurt.

The sight alone was enough to break Akari's heart. While she had long hid her real identity, the sight of her past self talking to someone they both looked up so dearly tore a hole in her bruised heart.

She was a different person now. Akari had no reason to hold on to a world--to her world-- that was already gone beyond oblivion.

And yet, as she looked Hikari-- at the girl she once was--Akari choked at the memories that continued to haunt her living.

Grey eyes darted to Cynthia. At the woman she once admired. At the woman she still admired.

The tall woman reminded her so much him.

It hurt. It really, truly hurt.

[undefeatablesin]

Should I also make a sideblog for my less art related ramblings/headcanon/theory posts/drabbles and fics etc...I am deeply tempted tbh the brainrot is of a magnitude that needs multiple outlets.

[yes-i-am-happyaspie]

Pokemon trainer peter please 🥰🥰🥰🥰💃🕺💃

I'll admit, I was ill-prepared for this prompt. Hahaha. I don't actually know all that much about Pokemon but I was able to employ my teenagers for some assistance in the matter. All in all, I think I did a pretty okay job of setting up a Pokemon AU in this mini-fic. (should anyone wish to adopt/continue it, they are more than welcome to!)

Anyway, here it is at just under the 1k limit. 797 words!

Rotom Round-Up

“Ah, there you are. My last appointment of the day,” Professor Stark said as Peter stepped into his office. “And here I thought you weren’t going to show up.”

“Sorry, sir,” Peter sheepishly stated. He’d only been three minutes late but it felt as though he’d left the professor waiting for hours.

“Eh. No need to apologize, Mr. Parker. The point is, you’re here now,” Stark replied with a flippant wave of his hand. “Have you put any thought into which Pokémon you’ll choose to accompany you on your journey?”

Peter perked up at the question “Yeah!,” he happily replied. He’d given it a lot of thought. Years worth of thought. He’d been studying Pokémon at a near-university level for the last several years. He knew the pros and cons of every single option. He opened his mouth to say as much, but the professor was already talking over him.

“Great. In that case, let’s get started,” he said, pulling three pokéballs out of his pocket and releasing the Pokémon inside one by one. “Snivy, Tepig and Oshawott. What’s your fancy, Kiddo?”

Peter watched in awe as the three small Pokémon danced in front of them. Then a small movement in the corner of the room grabbed his attention. It was the most adorable Tarountula he’s ever seen. Rather than its usual white and green, it was a combination of deep red and navy blue. “A shiny!” he gasped, the words, escaping his mouth before he could stop them.

“What?” Stark questioned, looking between Peter and the three standard Pokémon. “I thought you said you’d done your research, Kid. None of these are shiny.”

“No,” Peter replied, with a shake of his head. “That one. The bug type, that looks like a round little spider! It’s shiny! Can I have that one?”

The professor’s gaze followed Peter’s eagerly pointing finger until it fell onto the red and blue Tarountula at the end room. “Oh.That guy,” he said thoughtfully. “Yeah, that’s not a starter, kid. You should know that.”

“I do!” Peter eagerly returned. “But he could be, right? I mean for the right trainer. Maybe that’s me. They’re my favorite, and I know all about them. I can tell you whatever you want.”

“Look, kid,” Tony sighed, his fingers moving upward to pinch the bridge of his nose. “I’m not handing over a shiny Tarountula to a brand new trainer.” A beat passed, then he added a dubious, “Unless.”

“Unless what?” Peter implored.

“Well, if you’re as smart as you say you are, maybe you could help me out with something I’ve got going on in the lab,” he said. “If you prove yourself useful, the Tarountula can be all yours.”

“What do I have to do?” Peter asked, barely containing his excitement. He couldn’t believe he was being invited into Professor Stark’s lab.

Tony hummed and waved Peter though a pair of heavy metal doors and into a huge sprawling laboratory. There were machines everywhere and scattered around them were dozens of spark-like Rotoms. His mouth gaped open as they zipped around the room.

“Yeah,” Tony sighed. “So, as you can see, I’ve got something of a problem. All thirty-four Rotoms that were being stored here, were inadvertently released early this morning. I’ve managed to contain eleven of them myself. But I’m a busy man. Think you could find the other twenty-three?”

“By myself?” Peter asked.

The professor tilted his head to the side clicked his tongue. “Not completely,” he wavered, then whistled until a large robotic looking Pokémon joined him by his side. “My buddy, here, DUM-E could help you.”

“Oh wow!” Peter exclaimed, reaching out to pat the Pokémon on the head. “That’s the biggest Magneton I’ve ever seen!”

“I know,” Tony smirked as he threw open a cabinet full of trainer supplies. “Anyway, I’ve got things to do. Here’re your pokéballs. Come find me when you’re done,” he said all in one breath. “Or when you give up. Whichever happens first.”

Peter accepted the large bag of pokéballs and grinned. “I’ve got this sir!” he said. “Come on DUM-E! Let’s go!”

The first six were easy to catch. The next four were a bit more difficult. However, he still had thirteen more to go. The problem was that Rotoms were known for being mischievous. Perhaps more so for their ability to take over appliances, thus changing their abilities. And, oh boy, there were a lot of appliances within the professor's lab.

“What do you think DUM-E? Where else can we look?” Peter asked after making his way around the lab at least three times.

The Magneton brought them into the breakroom and hovered near the microwave and refrigerator.

“Got it,” Peter replied, knowing exactly what his new friend was implying. He could see the Rotoms taunting smiles within the appliances and readied his next pokeball.

“Where to next, DUM-E?” he asked once he’d successfully captured those two.

DUM-E happily ushed him into another area where Peter caught three more. And from there, he followed DUM-E around the room until they had tracked down all the remaining Rotoms. When he was sure he was done, he triumphantly carried himself over to where the professor was working.

“You’re done?” Stark dubiously inquired. Peter nodded his head. “Already?”

“DUM-E and I make a good team,” Peter shrugged. “Can I have the Tarountula now?”

The professor chuckled, fondly shook his head. “Sure, Kid. He’s all yours,” he said, as he led Peter over to where the waiting Tarountula. “What are you going to call him?”

Peter laughed as the Pokémon happily climbed from his arm to his shoulder and then up to the top of his head. “I think-” he said, pausing as he gave the nickname some added thought. Then he smiled broadly and encouraged the Tarountula to drop down into his hands. “I’ll call him Spidey”

[littlecarnet]

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

He is half of my soul, as the poets say...

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

A Jewel of Life Mini fic

-----

It was late afternoon in Michina. Damos was in a deep discussion with Markus about the new agriculture technique in the hillsides, something picked up from a few new residents from Johto. It would further widen their already prosperous farmlands, which where said to be rivaling those found in Kanto.

" The Kingdom of Dahara is interested in trade now, I think we've succeeded in surpassing the expectations of the Celestian capital. They didn't think such a rural territory would become part of the trade route with Arche Valley."

" Indeed." Replied Markus, petting Heatran absent-mindedly. " I shall send notice to my father that we intend to export. He'll be pleased."

" The temple is already finished with it's restorations. There are busts of the former..."

The young emperor tuned out the rest of the news from Damos with some boredom. But it wasn't unwelcome boredom. This town was growing, it was becoming part of the trade route, and everything he feared would happen when Arceus requested the return of the Jewel of Life, didn't happen at all. The only things that were damaged was the temple and his pride. Sure he improved greatly after that incident a few years ago, but he had a lot of amends to pay to his people and his family. His father was furious when he learned he attempted to kill Arceus. Markus was fearful he'd be disowned, but thankfully got to a second chance...no thanks to Damos.

It was why now, he made Damos not just his highest tier priest but also a trusted advisor in the court. And so far everything was going along fine. Better than fine.

So why was he anxious?

" ...And the return of him will be greatly celebrated."

"Hmm..?" Markus snapped out of it. " Return of who?"

" Arceus. He's returning in 3 days, as was shared by his messengers with the temple priestesses." Explained Damos " Shall we hold a feast day in his honor?"

Well there it is.

There's the source of his anxiety.

Dear gods...how was going to face Arceus after the stunt he pulled. Everyone and their pokemon knew the Alpha held grudges that lasted for centuries. He only had to turn to the stories of Arceus banishing his own child to know that you don't simply piss off Arceus and think you can get away with it.

" Yes, yes...a feast day would be appropriate. However, I have duties to attend to..." He struggled with an excuse " Royal duties to...trade relations with Alola. I may need to visit the capital to discuss it with my father."

Damos lifted an eyebrow. " I wasn't aware those were your duties, or that we were going to start trading with Alola."

Markus frowned and stood from his seat. " An emperor has many duties! I will not be present at the feast day, give my regards to Arceus."

" Very well, tis a shame you will not be present at the festivities, but I respect your dedication to your duties, your highness." Replied Damos

With that Markus thanked Damos for his time and walked out to the hall, likely to his study or bedchambers, and Damos was left standing in the large courtroom flanked by many of the gods, the most prominent at the center. It's red ruby and emerald eyes sparkling in the sunlight. Damos smiled gently, recalling the last time he and Arceus spoke together.

" Tis a shame...but it only means I get to spend more private time with a dear old friend."

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

Those three days went by. Too quickly for Markus, who was already enroute toward the capital, but too slow for Damos who was anticipating Arceus's arrival. Damos changed out of his usual attire, wearing his traditional priest robes. They were offwhite, with sky blue detailing, golden embroidery, and a black sash tied at the waist of his tunic. He looked at the mirror. Something still seemed off.

His wife, Areti, teased him about putting more effort into dressing up for Arceus than when he first courted her. Damos blushed, but then quickly responded that Arceus was the Alpha God of their pantheon, and he wanted to look his best. Areti fixed up Damo's headband.

" I know, darling, I only jest. I know how important this day is, and it's an honor that Arceus grace us with his presence. And I know how close you two were. I'm sure you missed him."

Damos frowned. " I only hope he remembers me. It's been a few years now."

Areti huffed and re-tied her husband's sash, it wasn't straight. " He'd have to a very stupid god to not remember the one who saved his life."

" Dear, that's a little blasphemous to say." Damos said in a hushed tone.

" I say it only because it would be true. However I have no doubt he'll remember you fondly. There..."

She stepped back to admire her beautiful husband, looking like he did on some of the holiest of days. " Too bad you don't dress like that just for me, you know how I've always loved men in uniform."

" I would honor that request, but the uniform would not last long under your nimble fingers." He said in suggestive way, before scooping her up and placing her on their bed. She laughed as she pulled her down with her.

" Is that an invitation for tonight?"

He kissed her. Their own private quiet way of promising something. She kissed him in return to seal that promise. They lingered a bit until he got up, and smoothed his robes once more. She got up to once again re-tie his sash, it just did not want to lay straight.

" I will be out late, are you sure you want to wait all that time?" He asked

" I'd wait all night and morning for you, dearest." She added " Since I am celebrating at my cousin's home, I might be late coming back myself. You know how she is as a host. Always outdoing herself."

" Yes" he said knowingly " I hope you have a good time."

He smiled softly, giving her a last kiss as he headed toward the door.

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

The festivities were already underway as Damos approached the stage in front of the temple. Torches lit, garlands hung, people danced, and music played as a golden likeness of Arceus, raised on his hind legs, sat in the front, strewn with flowers, candles, and other offerings. Damos had hoped the feast was a tad more somber, but he wasn't going to be a wet blanket. The more somber aspects of this were on his shoulders after all.

He was startled as the music abruptly stopped, a few shouts and cries were uttered as an impossibly bright light, like a small sun, burst forth from what seemed like a hole in reality. He need only shield his eyes for a few seconds as the light faded, revealing the guest of honor. Once again, Damos was awestruck by Arceus's presence, just like the day they met and their meeting after. It was a heavenly sight he likely would never get over. Like everyone around, he bowed then raised his head.

" We're honored you could visit us tonight, my lord."

Arceus spotted Damos and wordlessly floated toward him, prehaps a bit too quickly, as Damos instinctively stepped back. Their eyes met, and everyone's surprise, Arceus lightly bowed his head to him.

" And it is an honor to see you again, Damos."

Damos shivered when he heard his name. He wasn't sure why. It just felt right that he be addressed personally this way. But Damos wouldn't break decorum, he was a priest, Arceus was a god...there were boundaries that couldn't be crossed, even if they were good friends. It was the same with Markus. They had roles to play even if they were friends now. Informalities between them had to wait when they were out of the public eye.

" This feast day is in your honor, our biggest bounty from our fields to you, our savior. May Michina never forget what you've done for us."

There were cheers and happy sounds from the crowd below and once again the music played, people danced. But Arceus stayed silent. There was something different about Damos behavior, it didnt have that warmth he was use to, and for a fleeting moment he feared Damos was under someone's influence again. As Damos gestured for him to enter the temple, a dread washed over Arceus. This was horribly familiar and the god backed up, knocking over poles holding garlands with his tail, it landed on a table full of fruit, which went flying everywhere.

" Ah! Arceus! Are you alright?" Cried Damos, quickly walking down the steps.

Arceus lifted up further from the festivities to not cause anything else to fall, but the fear was still there. He was tense, and Damos was quick to pick this up.

" My lord, prehaps you should rest? There is a berth we made for you in the gardens below. I'll send for any food or drink to be delivered to you if you wish."

Again, Arceus felt uneasy with Damo's behavior. Why was he being so formal? But he followed Damos this time, as at least he'd be outside... in case...in case something went wrong.

The party goers continued in their revel, taking the mishap as Arceus simply needing a bit of rest before joining in. The two headed down to the berth, created out of sweet fragrant grass, flowers, and sheltered by thin sheets for privacy. It was here Damos broke the silence.

" You're quiet tonight, are you alright?"

Ah...There was the warmth Arceus knew. Finally he spoke.

" I should ask that of you, Damos. You don't seem like yourself."

" Huh? Oh...right. About that. Sorry. You see as a priest, I have to show you proper reverence in your presence. It would be disrespectful if I didnt."

" We've spoken of that before, you need not do that. Only to be yourself."

" That might be true when we're alone, Arceus, but in public, I can't. Not without facing a lot of backlash from the community."

" Is this part of your human rules?" Arceus mused. Humans had a terrible habit of over complicating everything.

" I'm afraid so. But not right now.." Damos said in a hushed whisper, as if he was a child about to tell a secret " ..It's only us, here. We can be as informal as we like."

And to prove it, Damos touched Arceus's fur on the side of his neck. Something that would be taboo to do to a deity, but Arceus loved this. If his pride wasn't stopping him, he'd admit to being very touch starved. He leaned into Damo's hands as they rubbed at his neck and soon under his chin. This was always followed by him bumping Damo's hand up, to get at his ears until his head was cradled in his hands, eyes closed. It was a sign of absolute trust, and it made Damos feel so honored each time it happened, that a deity such as Arceus would want this sort of attention. But then..God or mortal, everyone needed to feel like they were loved.

And Damos would show him that love.

" It's been so long, Damos, and you have grown older. I do not wish to lose you to time." Said Archer tenderly. " I do not wish to let it take you from me."

" That's the nature of things, I'm afraid. But you are right, it has been a few years too long since our last meeting, and I'm not getting any younger."

" I should stay here, with you." Said Arceus " To be near you, beloved."

And there it was again. That pleasant shiver.

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

[irlkisukeurahara]

Just some writing practice using my Pokémon AU -- Most of the context is explained. Hop is Irish and his accent is typed out. Might be difficult for dyslexics or screen readers.

The laughter settled down from Leon's mouth, his expression growing even more saddened as tears streamed further down his face. Whirring magical sounds began to die down as the pink color faded from his eyes. His energy went down as he wiped tears from his eyes. "Wow… I really am a fraud." The ex champion spoke with a weak voice. "They always praised me over you for not having dad's substance problems, being so successful and important, and not having his psychic powers like you do." Leon avoided eye contact with his little brother, looking down at the ground with a sense of shame and burden. "And, well…" His voice was meek and unconfident, something unbefitting of the man. Hop stared at him blankly. The professor had been using his brother as an outlet to vent his struggles, to a degree you would certainly describe as toxic. But Hop's eyes were slowly opening, learning more about his brother that was previously blinded by his obsessions. He realizes just how malicious he was towards his older brother, despite all he did for him. Hop's lip tightened, processing everything thrown at him before in Leon's sudden breakdown. The professor leaned into his brother's face for a moment, thinking for a second before suddenly raising his voice.

"So what?!" Leon looked back up at Hop again after this, tears still streaming down his face, unsure where Hop was going with this yet. "Yeah, a Pokémon master is somet'in ultimately kinda arbitrary to be and makes ye feel like ye wasted years of yer life on it when you lose your title…" Hop leaned away for a moment, glancing his older brother up and down, seeing the crumbled mess he had become. And for the first time in so long, Hop felt bad for him. Hop realized that was actually a good thing. He suddenly shot back forward into Leon's face again, "But so what?!" He shouted again. Leon leaned away, the brothers both just sitting there on the ground beside each other. "Are ya just gonna… Give up on life? Over Pokémon battling?" Hop spread his arms out suddenly, almost hitting Leon in the face. Hop had an angry look on his face, but it was different. When he'd yelled at Leon before, he was just looking for something to yell at after years of abuse. But for once it seems, he came from a genuine place of concern, after so long of falling down his dark path. "After, you know, all you've said to me? After you told me not to give up on life over Pokémon battling?" He suddenly grabbed Leon's face, squeezing his cheeks in between his thumb and pointer finger, forcefully tilting his head and digging his sharp talon-like nails into his face. "What kind of role model are you?"

"I–" Leon was fully caught off guard by Hop's change of heart. He wondered when Hop started caring about him again. He sighed, rubbing his tears away again. "You're right. I've been too depressed ever since… Well, I suppose the day Rose released Eternatus." He lightly put his hand on Hop's wrist, "That's not the type of person I am." He tugged on Hop's wrist slightly, and Hop let go and set his hand down beside him. "I haven't been like myself. I've been faking it out of some hope of fixing you…" he chuckled a little, "You could tell, couldn't you?"

"Of course I could, Lee." Hop crossed his arms, "I'm an expert of faking t'in's wit' a smile. You should know t'at." Hop tilted his head slightly, glancing up at the sky in thought. His ponytail twitched as he thought, a passive effect of the psychic powers mentioned by Leon that they both possessed. His expression then became almost sad, sighing as he looked down at the ground. He then looked back up at Leon, his expression still serious, but a different kind of serious. You could call it sincere. "Look, Lee. You kept sayin' t'at ye want t'e real me back. T'at ye miss yer brot'r." His voice now reflected that sincerity, "Well, the kid ye knew was never t'e real me. In… multiple ways…" Hop looked away. He didn't plan to clarify on what that meant, but Leon did make a mental note of it. He leaned back into Leon's face again, "But! I've been actin' so cruel to avoid t'is!" He grabbed Leon by his shoulders, tears starting to well up in his eyes too. "I want my dad back. I didn't want to admit it." Leon's eyes lit up, practically glowing with stars as he heard Hop say that. Admittedly, their relationship had always been father-son rather than brotherly, just due to their awful upbringing.

"I want my son back too." After a second of hesitation, Hop let go of Leon, then proceeded to hug him. Leon held onto Hop gently, as to not hurt his fragile back. It's been so long since he gave Hop affection like this as Hop pushed him away, so he still wasn't sure of his own strength compared to Hop's extremely low constitution.

"I'm sorry, Lee." Hop paused. "No. I'm sorry…" he nuzzled his face into Leon's shoulder, "Dad." Leon started tearing up again, he couldn't help but hold Hop firmly. "I'll try to be better. I–" Hop was about to continue onwards, but Leon let out a quiet 'shh' noise.

"I will too, bud." He spoke quietly, a sincere smile on his face as Hop held onto him. He didn't audibly cry, but he was teary eyed as everything came to a head. For once, he'd face his problems in a healthy way. With the help of his real dad.

[kingsofeverything]

...

[shidoukanae]

Hello I know it’s been a long while since you talked about pokemon but I got a question, and feel free to ignore it if you don’t feel comfortable

Why did you delete some of your swsh fanfics but not others? Even if they weren’t canon compliant, they were still very fun reads

Hello!!! And no worries about asking this question, honestly im just happy to know that my Pokémon works are loved enough for you to be asking this question haha

I'm going to sound Big Dumb Here TM but can I ask which fics you're referring to? I don't recall taking down any of my SwSh fanfics (tho I checked and I do have a Gou/Koharu one tucked into a hidden collection, so are you maybe referring to that one?).

I still have all the ones I remember up and able to view - Trencher Fed and Scatter, Anachronism, Stars and Nebula, the Project SSS pre-game fic series, etc. - but if you're not seeing any of those then please let me know so i can see if i can fix that!!!

[dipplinduo]

No impact on the story ofc, just more of a gauge on how I should do the drops while I write! :)

Read the fic here.

[luumiinaa]

this collab dotae mini-series was such a fun read! Loved them both 🥰

Pokemon: Unspoken Truths (2/2)

genre: pokemon!au feat. reader x Lee Taeyong

word count: ~ 9.2k

a/n: a collaboration with @chipsandwaffles . first part can be found here and her part can be found here . 

Keep reading

[baronessvonglitter]

The Haunting of David York

Dave York x ghost!reader

Word count: 2.6K

Summary: It's a typical Halloween night for Dave. The last thing he expects is for you to come back and get your revenge.

(Spoilers below the cut, so resume with caution)

WARNINGS: Rated M; Dead Dove Do Not Eat; mentions of wet work, murder, brief gore, threats of violence towards family, major character death (don't hit me)

Author's Note: this fic is for @mermaidgirl30 Jamie's Halloween Writing Challenge 👻 thank you for hosting this lovely fic challenge!

The idea for this started out as a random discussion about why we're afraid of ghosts if they can't really hurt anyone.. then I wanted to add our favorite suburban murder daddy to a ghost story and got some inspo from watching old school stuff like Creepshow and early seasons of AHS. (I haven't written horror in a very long time, so gimme a little break)

Shoutout to @yorksgirl for the Dave chit chats-- there will be a sweatpants scene in another fic, promise!

"Dave, not again!" Carol whines from the front steps.

"What?" he asks innocently, hefting the human-sized 'body bag' consisting of garbage bags stuffed with leaves and tied up with duct tape to fashion a corpse decoration in the yard for Halloween. Dave has been working on them all day. He's now up to seventeen.

"The HOA is going to complain," his wife shakes her head. "We got away with a warning last year. This time they'll definitely fine us."

"It's worth it to see the looks on everyone's faces," he insists. "Besides, I'll have them picked up and out of sight by the end of the night. I promise."

Dave doesn't love Halloween, but neither does he mind it. People dressing up to be anything other than themselves for one night only? Try doing that 24/7.

He doesn't get to parade around the Mr. Hyde aspect of his life. He doesn't get to knock on doors while in tactical gear, sniper rifle resting in one arm while he sticks an orange jack-o-lantern bucket out to get a handful of tooth-rotting sweets. He doesn't get to wake up on November first and pretend it was all for fun.

It's a silly holiday, but he likes scaring the shit out of the neighbors with the decorations. And his kids love planning their costumes months in advance. Alice is going as a zombie cheerleader (he never understands where these ideas come from) and Molly is some type of Pokemon Dave thinks is a squirrel but she insists is something called an Evoo or Evie or something completely asinine.

Carol usually insists on taking them out trick-or-treating, dressing up herself in a last-minute Minnie Mouse getup, a red sweater and black leggings, and a headband with sequined mouse ears to complete the look.

"You'll be okay here by yourself?" she asks, putting the finishing touches on her mouse whiskers and nose with liquid eye liner in the hall mirror as the girls wait impatiently to leave.

She asks that every year, as if something bad will happen on his watch, as if he can't hack it alone for a couple of hours.

"Unless Michael Myers or Pennywise show up, I'm pretty sure I'll be fine," he says, giving the girls a quick kiss before they go.

"What's Pennywise?" Alice asks as Carol herds them out the door, and she shoots her husband an annoyed glance.

There aren't as many trick-or-treaters this year, and Dave regrets that he'd bought so much candy. He dips his hand into the large tub of mini chocolate bars and fruit-flavored chews that stick to one's teeth and selects some Nerds, eating them straight from the tiny box. With barely concealed disgust he finds the candy corn, plucking the small packets of the hated sweets out from the bowl. He doesn't know how anyone can eat these. These can go to the next kids who ring the doorbell. When the next round of costumed kids come around he gives out huge handfuls. The less sweets they have in the house, the less sugar-fueled meltdowns he's likely to experience from his kiddos.

When there's more of a lull he relaxes on the sofa, mindlessly unwrapping a chocolate bar as the Halloween song hums from the TV, The Nightmare Before Christmas playing where the girls had left it on:

Boys and girls of every age wouldn't you like to see something strange? come with us and you will see this, our town of Halloween

He finds his glass of Macallan pairs nicely with a mini Hershey's Special Dark chocolate that he knows the little trick-or-treaters won't appreciate. The candy rests on his tongue as he savors the lingering taste of the scotch while the movie keeps playing. He absorbs a little of it, a now thirty-year-old film that came out when he was his kids' age. He watches idly, letting the scotch lull him into a nice semi-rest.

This is Halloween, this is Halloween pumpkins scream in the dead of night this is Halloween, everybody make a scene trick or treat, 'til the neighbors gonna die of fright

Enough of the singing. He changes the channel. There's postseason baseball on TV, but his favorite team isn't in the playoffs, and the announcers are annoying. Click. Of course there's a horror marathon on every channel. All the Scream movies, which he can appreciate for their ingenuity, Psycho, Shaun of the Dead, the entire Friday the 13th franchise even though it's Thursday, the 31st.

He flips channels, mindlessly, watching tidbits of each, digging into the leftover candy once again when he hears a thud.

With feline alertness he mutes the TV and sits up straight in one swift move. He zones in on where the sound came from, waiting, his racing heart the most audible sound in his ears.

Most people listen for a sound and relax when they don't hear it again, chalking it up to the house settling, or a rodent in the attic. But Dave knows better. He's been on the opposite side of this type of situation countless times. He doesn't relax and just chalk it up to mundane things like other people, because he knows there are guys like him out there-- becoming one with the shadows, as silent as possible--

It's coming from the back door.

In stealth mode, he grabs his gun from the safe in his study and quickly, skillfully, loads it. Adrenaline sings in his veins, carries him towards the danger. He flips on the light switch for the patio and the lights glare into the dark, lighting up nothing. His gun is still in his hand as he slowly opens the door, listening for footsteps.

Quiet.

A little disappointed that he's gotten riled up for no reason, he sighs as the rush of adrenaline dissipates and leaves him weak for a brief moment.

He keeps the gun in the holster at his side as he returns to the sofa, a little more on edge. It could be just teenage assholes playing pranks out of boredom, but he doesn't want to risk it.

He shuts the TV off and the silence becomes the largest thing in the room, even louder than his thoughts. He's taut as wire, not allowing himself to relax just yet. He's listening for more sounds. Most are explainable: a slow drip in the kitchen sink that Carol told him about just yesterday, the notification pings on his daughter's tablet that she left on the dining room table.

"Fuck!" he curses in surprise as the TV turns on, The Nightmare Before Christmas still playing where it left off:

I am the one hiding under your bed, teeth ground sharp and eyes glowing red I am the one hiding under your stairs fingers like snakes and spiders in my hair

Dave quickly snaps the TV off, removing the batteries from the remote.

It's just some electrical glitch he tells himself. And then the power goes out completely.

"Shit," he mutters, using his phone to light the way to locate the real flashlight. It's not in the cabinet beneath the kitchen sink where it's supposed to be left. Carol must have moved it. He checks the garage. Through the windows he can see the neighbors still have power, so he grabs the trusty flashlight and checks the breaker box. After fiddling with it, it won't reset. The flips do absolutely nothing.

Heaving a frustrated sigh, he pinches the bridge of his nose, taking out his phone from his pocket. The battery shows 1% before fizzling out to a black screen with the gray spinning wheel before dying.

"You've got to be shitting me," he grumbles. With another curse, he shoves the useless thing back in his pocket, letting the flashlight guide him out of the garage. He may as well get the keys and go try to find Carol and the girls, who are probably several blocks over by now, maybe get them to stay at her mother's place while he gets things sorted out with the power issue.

And then..

he hears the sound of his name spoken, a sharp. accusatory whisper, as if it's right next to him. It's so real he can feel the cold breath against his ear. It makes him jump out of his skin.

Alert, his body tense and ready for action, his eyes dart around the room as he begins to get his bearings back and his heart goes back to its normal rhythm.

Stupid.. he curses himself, sitting upright again. Annoyance colors his face.

But the sound of it.. of your voice still rings in his ear. And he'd know your voice among a thousand others.

Now he knows he's imagining things, because it couldn't have been your voice at all.

You're dead.

He doesn't want to think about that day, a cold autumn day just like this. In fact it'll be one year exactly on November 14th. The last day you saw sunlight, the last day you ever breathed.

It's not that you were bad, you were just in the way. There was no room for you in Dave's perfect, clock-precision life. He tried to make your end painless, make sure you didn't see it coming.

Some secrets don't stay buried forever..

Nobody knows he assures himself. It's impossible.. He'd even kept it from his teammates, and they knew nearly every damn thing about him.

No, this particular job.. the handling of you, had to be done on his own.

Casting a glance at the backyard patio again, the light from his neighbor's back porch glows eerily, spotlighting the patch of earth Dave had avoided until finally he'd caved and erected a bird bath with a small garden, a surprise for Carol's birthday. His wife never suspected that you were buried there, beneath her gift.

Without thinking, he's already walking outside, gun in one hand, flashlight in the other, leading the way to your grave. He never comes out here anymore. The guilt has become too crushing and he's not a man who dwells on guilt. He does what he has to and revisits the issue if problems arise.

You won't arise, though. When he closes his eyes he can still see the bullet hole in your temple, the blank look as the light left your eyes.

Forgive me, he'd thought, unable to speak it aloud as he stuffed your body in a bag and placed you in the dirt on a moonless autumn night.

When he reaches the stone path that leads to your innocent-looking grave marker, he has to process what he sees:

there's a hole in the ground, where some of the rocks and flowers around the bird bath have been upheaved, and in the breeze his flashlight shines on a tattered, empty black body bag. The scent of death greets his nostrils as he pales, trying not to vomit.

He goes back to the house, immediately on the defensive, irrationally expecting to find you there, clothes dirty and hair caked with mud and blood, a specter of his own paranoia and guilt.

It's still shrouded in darkness, the home that is supposed to be his shelter from such dark things as yourself. It's his domain, his castle, and in this trouble, without his family, he feels like less of a king.

"There's no fucking way," he mutters, stomach roiling with fear and suspicion. He opens the patio door and steps inside.

The whole place smells of death, of the grave.

You're in every corner, quiet, waiting, watching. But not impassive.

He feels you everywhere, himself made small by your ubiquitous pall. The gun in his hand feels useless, and this makes him angry.

You feed off his anger. You love it. It's the only thing you can feel anymore. Pure, unadulterated hate.

You slither towards him, wicked grin growing bigger as you approach him. Dave gets the chills down his back, not knowing just how close you are to him.

"Boo" you whisper lightly, ghostly breath caressing the shell of his ear.

Your cackling thunders in his ears as he whips around, eyes wide with fright. You delight in the fear he's giving off. The scent of it it so intoxicating. It's the only good thing about being dead.

"I should make your death as nice and quick and clean as you made mine" your voice echoes all around the room. Dave looks equal parts pissed and afraid as he tries to track you.

"But I won't."

You've been waiting for this night, this one unholy night where you'd be allowed to come back, to gather the unearthly powers granted to you. Halloween: the one night of the year when the living come back to haunt the dead.

And the son of a bitch had the gall to kill you in November. You had to wait almost a whole year for your revenge.

Gonna make it sweet.

It takes a lot of energy to assume something of a human form, but as you grab onto the fear he's giving off, as you use the most ancient of forces to pull your corporeal parts together, it gets easier. You don't feel afraid. You haven't, not since he killed you.

"Consider yourself lucky it's only you I'm after. If I had my way your family's blood would be splattered on these walls along with yours."

Dave shivers violently. "Please, don't!" He's not used to begging or pleading. He's actually on his knees. He tries not to look at you; your visage is too grotesque. Your flesh is falling off your face and your eyes are sunken into your head, giving a ghoulish appearance.

You force his gaze upon you with the ice-cold touch of your hand. "Your family is safe. For now. Hell, there's always next Halloween."

With the cracking open of his ribcage and the spilling of his guts you reach into him, finding the fullness of the heart, the organ he uses the least.

All Dave can do is scream and scream and scream.

The next day Carol sits at the dining room table, two detectives with her. Her coffee has grown cold, barely touched. She still bears the remnants of the makeup she'd put on to complete her costume last night. The girls are upstairs. She couldn't bear sending them to school, having them apart from her. Not while Dave is missing.

"He was fine last night. Normal," she adds, shrugging as she dabs at her eyes with a Kleenex.

Because of his position as a government agent, his disappearance is being taken very seriously. Officers are en route, dispatched to start searching the area, especially the nearby woods, which Carol has always feared.

Dave's gun is there, his wallet, phone, and keys also left behind.

One of the field officers comes in (there have been many people coming in and out of the house today) and motions to the backyard. "Halloween decoration?"

"Yeah," Carol sniffles, smiling just a little. "Dave likes to shock the neighbors. He promised he'd put them away before the morning.. but he never puts them out back.."

Out of guilt, or maybe just to give herself something to do, she gets up and goes to put the decorations away. The detectives follow.

Funny. There's just one.. she thinks, looking at the lone body bag on the lawn, tossed haphazardly next to her bird bath.

It's heavier than she expects. She's too petite to pick it up. Sighing, she kneels, the crunch of the fallen leaves beneath her knees. She'll just take the leaves out and throw the bag away.

Ripping it open with her nails she's stunned a moment, not processing what she's seeing before she lets out a bloodcurdling scream.

Wrapped up in the duct taped body bag is what's left of Dave.

dividers by @saradika-graphics 👑

tagging @almostempty @itwasntimethatdidit40 @milla-frenchy @salingers @zascal

[jaemmphilia]

★ 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴 ★ || hwang h.j & lee f.x

★ summary: hyunjin desperately needs inspiration for a painting that's due in his visual arts class. he has to paint the subject on a large canvas using nude colors. the problem is that he can't seem to find a model, he's asked everyone he knows, and it turns out that not everyone wants to sit naked in a uncomfortable pose for hours on end. not even his hyung, chan. well, there's always that really, really attractive boy in his creative writing class, hyunjin has spoke to him a handful of times, he would consider them to be close. hyunjin also knows the boy is a mutual friend of felix's. it wouldn't hurt to ask right?

★ characters: kang y/n, hwang hyunjin, lee felix, chan and changbin are only mentioned once, johnny from nct is also mentioned

★ warnings: threesome, sex on a large canvas, smut, oral (all characters receiving), unprotected sex, (wrap it up yall), nudity, paint in places it really should not be (none of it will be inside of anyone, of course), hyunlix are both whipped for y/n, college au, mentions of alcohol and weed, author says cock too many times to be considered normal, reader is called little doll a few times

★ word count: ~5.8K words (i got carried away again..)

★ requested?: yep, thank you to @belladonna6-6-6 for the idea !!

★ binnie's thoughts: when i got this request dm'd to me i just couldn't resist... hyunlix is just so sexy and i know they'd be the perfect boyfs … enjoy this filthy threesome !!

★ disclaimer: this fic in absolutely NO way represents the stray kids members as people. this is just for fun, so don't take it to heart. just enjoy!

Hyunjin doesn’t know who to ask at this point. He’s asked every single person he knows (which is a lot of people, he’s quite popular on campus, mind you), and every last one of them either flat out said no or they had something to do that day. As he contemplates bribing one of his friends with food, he hears his roommate enter their shared dorm. Felix lets out a heavy sigh as he kicks off his shoes, placing them neatly on the shoe rack they built together during their second year. 

Felix is a great roommate, he knows not to touch Hyunjin’s expensive art supplies, and he always asks for permission before entering Hyunjin’s room or his art studio. He also makes the most delicious brownies and cookies Hyunjin has ever had the privilege of tasting. Felix likes his personal space, but he also is fun to talk to. The two of them like to curl up together on their super comfy couch, a weighted blanket draped over their laps as they share a large bowl of sickly-salty popcorn, a stupid and trashy reality show playing on their large television. They both know not to watch ahead of the other, because it’s their thing, you can’t just break the roommate code like that. It’s just part of the rules. 

“Hyun, what’s got you so upset? I can just smell the disappointment radiating from you.” Felix calls out, bending down to open their mini-fridge, the poor thing littered with stupid stickers of Pokemon and other random things. Hyunjin sighs again, this time louder as he throws his head back against the armrest, a soft thump coming from the impact. Hyunjin lifts his head up with a pout, his hand coming up to rub the dull throb residing on the back of his head. Felix lets out a chuckle, standing fully with a can of soda in his hand. Felix makes his way to the couch, tapping Hyunjin’s long, slim legs, a gesture telling the male to lift them up. Hyunjin lifts his legs, allowing Felix to sit where they previously were. Hyunjin lays his legs down on Felix’s lap, liking the way the younger male rubs little shapes on his skin. 

Felix’s hands are always warm, even after holding a cold soda or a cold beer in his grip. Hyunjin likes to feel the blonde’s hands dancing across his bare skin, soft, supple skin stroking him in all the right places. Of course they’ve hooked up. They’re both healthy young adults who have needs, needs that can’t be ignored for too long. Oftentimes, Felix will waltz his way into Hyunjin’s room and crawl under Hyunjin’s soft blankets. Hyunjin is a light sleeper, so any movement in his bed causes him to stir, his eyes squinting to adjust to the darkness of his bedroom. Felix doesn’t have to say anything, Hyunjin already knows the poor boy had a nightmare and needs a distraction. Well, Hyunjin’s idea of a distraction is filling the male full of his throbbing cock until tears are streaming down Felix’s freckled cheeks. 

“I can’t seem to find a model for my visual arts class. I’ve asked literally everyone. Not a single person said yes! Even Chan hyung said no!” Hyunjin whines, his hands covering his eyes as his lips contort in a pout. “And you know Chan hyung loves to be naked at all times of the day, so why would he say no?”

“Maybe because he doesn’t want to sit in a single pose for so many hours?” Felix asks, taking a sip of his soda, his eyes on Hyunjin. “Besides, you didn’t ask everyone. You didn’t ask me.” 

“I can’t paint the same person if I’ve already painted them once. I painted you for my final exam last semester, remember?” Hyunjin says, uncovering his eyes to look at Felix as he speaks. He had gotten a near-perfect score on that painting, and it currently sits in the school’s very own art gallery. 

Felix hums, remembering having to sit on the grass of the school’s garden, yellow flowers of all kinds surrounding him. He had a good time, except for when a bee decided to land on a flower that was next to his shoulder. Hyunjin’s wide eyes totally gave it away that there was something creeping beside Felix and soon enough, Felix was darting out of the patch of flowers. 

“So, I don’t know who to ask at this point. I could always paint myself, but then I would have to take pictures of myself and choose the one that’s best. That would take too long, so my best choice is to just paint someone else.” Hyunjin sighs, grabbing his phone to go through his contacts for the millionth time that day, hoping that he missed someone. 

“Wait, I might know someone who can help. I think you know him, he’s in your creative writing class.” Felix says, and Hyunjin is lost. He doesn’t talk to a lot of people in his creative writing class, most of the people around him donning headphones of various brands and kinds. Now that he thinks about it, there is one person he does talk to and has had plenty of nice conversations with. 

Kang Y/N, a rather quiet individual with a soft smile that happens to match his overall vibe. He’s a nice guy, always jumping to help anyone who needs it, whether that be studying or helping get rid of a nasty hangover. He just draws people in, the type of person you can’t bring yourself to hate. Only because he would probably just apologize for upsetting you enough to hate him. 

“Oh, yeah? Who is it, I’m so desperate at this point, Lix. I will literally paint Professor Shindong, it’s that serious.” Hyunjin says, trying to fight the shiver that creeps up his body as he imagines his professor naked. 

Felix lets out a loud snort, coughing as he covers his mouth and nose, fizzy liquid seeping in between his fingers. Through his coughing fit, his body thrashes with giggles and cackles alike. Why would Hyunjin put that cursed image in his head? Might as well add that to his list of nightmares. 

Felix finally calms down, wiping his wet hand on Hyunjin’s bare leg, causing the black haired male to playfully kick him in the side. “Let's not even go there. No, I’m talking about Y/N. You know, the same guy who gave Johnny a lapdance at his party?” 

How could anyone forget that night? It was truly… something. Everyone was drunk off their asses, some people stripping out of their clothes, some others dancing on tables. Bodies grinding against one another as the music courses through their drunken veins. Hyunjin and Felix had been there to experience the entire thing, even if the two were also very intoxicated. A game of truth of dare had broken out, and everyone resorted back to their middle-school selves, giggling as they grabbed their friends to join in on the circle of other party-goers. Hyunjin was dragged into the circle with Felix, the two of them stumbling as they fell on top of each other, eliciting laughs from everyone around them. They played the game, doing any dare that was thrown at them. The game got interesting when you were asked to give the birthday boy a special lap dance in celebration. You agreed with a nonchalant shrug, influenced by alcohol and weed, quickly made your way to Johnny, who was sitting on the couch, holding a conversation with his fellow hockey player teammates.

You just swung your legs over Johnny’s lap, the bigger male’s eyes widening as he welcomed the newfound weight on his lap. You rolled your hips in circles, your arms wrapped loosely around Johnny’s neck, feeling his growing length under your ass. 

Everyone stopped to look at the two of you, some people gasping while others cheered you on. Someone even threw a ten dollar bill at you. Once you felt that Johnny’s lap dance went on long enough, you peeled yourself off of him, going back to join the circle, a sultry sway of your hips as you walked. The night ended with Felix and Hyunjin stumbling into their dorm room, the both of them passing out as soon as the door shut behind them.

“Oh, god,” Hyunjin starts his face lighting up as he remembers the night. “It was Y/N who gave Johnny a lap dance! You would never expect that from him, but to be fair, he was drunk.” 

Felix nodded as he took in Hyunjin’s words. “Why don’t you ask him to be your model? You know who he is, so he isn’t a total stranger.” 

Hyunjin thought about it for a second. Felix had a point, you really weren’t a stranger to him, you shared a class together. You both often helped each other with writing assignments that had you stumped, and whenever you would see each other outside of class you always offered a smile and a wave to Hyunjin. Every single time you flash that pretty smile at him, Hyunjin can see the lights of heaven calling to him from above. 

“I’m convinced and desperate. Do you have his number?”

It isn’t often that you sit on a wooden stool, all of your clothes discarded as you look off to your right, looking out of the window, a solemn look on your delicate features. Actually, this is the first time you have ever done anything like this. Curse you and your need to please people when they ask you for a favor. Your left leg is crossed over your lower half, covering up your soft length. The window casts a soft yellowy-orange glow all over your naked body. You were testing out a few poses while you waited for Hyunjin to return with his mixed paint.

(Of course you have done some questionable things during your time in college, the most memorable one being that time you gave Johnny, the captain of the school’s hockey team, a lap dance at his birthday party last year. You were absolutely hammered that night, and Johnny never held that against you. The two of you still laugh about it to this day.)

Hyunjin stands in amazement as he stares as you pose so prettily on his wooden stool just a few short steps in front of his XXX-Large canvas. He knows he should probably start painting before he gets caught staring at you, but he simply can’t help it. He was surprised when you agreed to be his model, and he was even more surprised when you still agreed to be his model when he failed to mention that you had to be nude. He assumes it's because you’re the type who can’t find it in yourself to say no to anyone. He was shocked when you replied to his text pretty quickly, agreeing to model for him, asking for other details. 

Hyunjin shakes his head to remind himself that he has work to do and gets his paint, quickly mixing the colors he needs. Then, a lightbulb goes off in his head. He takes a look at his mixed paint tins, examining the colors. His eyes are darting back and forth, looking at the paint and your skin. He chews on his bottom lip before he picks up a deep brown color that’s almost black. 

“Hey, Y/N?” he calls to you softly, his cheeks heating up when you turn your head to look at him, a soft ‘hm?’ coming from you, your eyes wide and curious to hear what he has to say. 

“Is it okay if I place a hand mark on your thigh? I think it’ll look good for the theme of the painting,” Hyunjin asks softly, his head tilting to the side as he waits for your approval or disapproval. 

“Hyunjin, I’m simply your model, a lifeless doll for you to move and shape to fit your vision. If you feel that a hand print is what will set you apart from the others, then go ahead.”

Hyunjin could listen to you speak forever. You have such a way with words, it’s easy for him to get lost in the words you speak. Hyunjin might not survive for long if you keep buttering him up with the words you say to him and the way you say them. 

“Of course, I think the pose you were in was perfect as it was. So, if you could pose like that again, that would be perfect.” He says, covering his hand in a deep brown paint that he mixed up just a few minutes ago. 

Hyunjin’s hand is shaky as he walks over to you, his eyes scanning the naked expanse of your soft, milky skin. He counts the blemishes of your skin, noticing that you have beauty marks of various sizes and colors littering your skin. He makes a mental note to include those very marks in his painting. Hyunjin stands in front of you, his mind swimming with thoughts of you, and how truly honored he is to see you in such a soft light, naked and looking as beautiful as ever. He lifts his shaky hand and carefully places it on your bare thigh, not missing the way your leg jolts at the contact. 

“I didn’t expect it to be cold,” you let out a chuckle, relaxing once you get past the initial chill of the paint. You feel the warmth of Hyunjin’s hand on your thigh, and your cheeks and ears warm up, finally coming to terms that you are indeed naked in front of your crush. You crushed on Hyunjin from afar, deciding to just adore him from a distance, your friends attempting to hype you up to get you to actually speak to the male. That is until he spoke to you for the first time in class, his eyebrows furrowed, his expression telling you that he didn’t quite understand the assignment. You mentally squealed as you explained the assignment in a way he could understand. From then on, the two of you would have a conversation every day in class, giving each other ideas. 

“Sorry about that, I hoped my hand would warm it up enough so that it wouldn’t be so cold,” Hyunjin explains, removing his hand from your thigh, already missing the way your soft skin feels under his touch. “How about we get started? Just pose how you were a second ago, and keep that same expression on your face.”

As Hyunjin adds the final touches to his painting, you are in the bathroom, washing the paint off your leg. You hope the painting looks exactly how he wants it to, otherwise this would have been a waste of time. Well, not exactly a waste, you and Hyunjin had an amazing conversation as he painted you, the two of you learning more about each other to pass the time. You learned that Hyunjin has a pet at home who he loves dearly, and that he loves to paint vases with flowers in them. You also learned that he is pretty close friends with your cousin, Changbin. 

Hyunjin also learned a few things about you, the most shocking thing being how you are somehow related to Changbin. You had told him many stories of your childhood with Changbin and how big of a crybaby he was back then. Hyunjin wonders how someone like Changbin, extremely muscular and dedicated to working out, could be such a crybaby as a young kid. You and Changbin are so different, you being on the quieter side, with a soft voice and a soft face to match, while Changbin is a walking tornado siren, his voice distinct and commanding. Hyunjin also learned that you major in English literature, and that you want to become a writer one day. He smiled at the way you lit up as you spoke about writing and how it makes you feel, your eyes shining under the lights of his art studio. 

He hears you step out of the bathroom, and he feels your warmth behind him, your hand placed gently on his shoulder, his skin burning under his sweater where your hand lies. 

A soft gasp leaves your lips as you stare at the painting. It’s truly breathtaking, you’ve never seen yourself look so… soft and ethereal. No picture could ever capture you the way Hyunjin did. Hyunjin captured your solemn expression perfectly, adding sparkling tears falling down your cheeks. He painted every single detail of your body, every blemish and scar. He even included the splotchy birthmark on your right hip and the small bunny tattoo on the inner part of your arm. The handprint on your thigh is what catches your attention next, Hyunjin made it look smeared, wrapping around the meat of your thigh, tying the painting together perfectly.

“Oh my gosh, Hyunjin..” You start, and Hyunjin swivels his head around to look at you, a soft red on his cheeks as he just smiles cheekily at you. “This is amazing! How do you do it?” You comment your eyes not leaving the painting for a second.

“Well, when your model is as pretty as you are, you find motivation to make sure you capture that beauty perfectly.” 

You gawk as you finally look at Hyunjin, your jaw dropped open slightly. He thinks you’re pretty? You can’t help the way your heart beats heavily in your chest that you can feel it reverberating in your ears. You watch as Hyunjin stands up, his taller frame looming over you. Hyunjin doesn’t miss the way his wine red silk robe hangs on your frame, the material falling off your shoulders. You look up at him with wide eyes, face warm and lips slightly parted. Hyunjin brings a hand up to cup your cheek, his eyes searching yours for any discomfort or rejection. When he doesn’t find any, he slowly leans in close to you, and you meet him in the middle, your parted lips connecting with his as you both close your eyes. 

Your lips mold together easily, the two of you quickly adding your tongues to the mix. Hyunjin’s tongue fights with yours, saliva gathering at the corners of your mouth as a soft whimper spills from you, your legs feeling weak from the feeling of Hyunjin’s lips on yours. Hyunjin pulls away from you for a second, chuckling as you chase his lips for more kisses. 

“Patience, little doll, we wouldn’t want your pretty portrait to get ruined, right?” He says, taking the painting to dry in another area of the room where it won’t get ruined. As he’s placing the finished painting aside, his eyes land on a blank canvas that’s the same size as the one he just placed down to dry. He grabs the blank canvas, placing it on the floor as you stare in confusion. 

“Hyunjin, what are you doing with that? You aren’t starting another piece, are you?” You question, your head tilted to the side as you watch Hyunjin retrieve two mid sized buckets of paint. One bucket has dried and crusty paint coating the rim, the color a pastel blue that reminds you of the hydrangeas that your grandmother grew. The other bucket looks like it’s maybe a soft pink color. As you get close to look at the name on the metal bucket, you see that it reads ‘dusty rose.’ You had never heard of such a color, you wondered if it was dark or light. You may not know everything under the sun about colors, but the required art classes you took during your school years have taught you plenty. 

Hyunjin uses a flat tool to pop both lids of the paint buckets open, then he looks at you with a faux-innocent smile on his pretty face. There’s something swimming in his dark brown eyes, you can see it. “I want to make a masterpiece with you, little doll.”

Your breath catches in your throat as you catch on to what he means. He can’t really be serious, can he? This is something right out of a raunchy movie about a girl having a dom-sub relationship with a rich CEO that she works for. 

“Wait, you want us to– have sex on that canvas?” You question him, your voice small and quiet as you chew on your lip waiting for Hyunjin to reply to your question. 

“Only if you're comfortable, I won’t do anything that could make you uncomfortable. If you would much rather us fuck on my bed, that’s fine by me.” Hyunjin says with a smile, his eyes searching your face for any sign of uncomfortableness, but he’s only seeing a bit of uncertainty and a large amount of lust. That’s a good sign to him, you’re still in the mood to fool around with him, you just need a little bit of a push. 

“I– I mean, it could be interesting..” You say, trailing off as you have an internal battle with yourself. Did you really want to have sex with Hyunjin on top of a canvas, the two of you covered in paint as you roll around making shapes with your bodies? You would be stupid to say no to something like that.

“I need a real answer, cutie. Yes, or no.” Hyunjin says, now standing in front of you as he lifts your chin up with his fingers, making you look up at him. You gulp as you stare at him, trying to find your voice.

“Yes, Hyunjin.”

You find yourself covered in pastel blue paint, Hyunjin using his hands to rub the paint all over your naked body as he kisses you with fervor. Hyunjin stands before you, his body rid of all clothes, his lean body on display for your eyes. You think he looks like a god. The once orange light of the room, now darker as the night creeps in, dances across his body, turning his sepia colored skin a few shades darker. The sun is slowly sinking away to sleep, allowing the calmness of the night to take over.   

Hyunjin pulls away from the kiss and grabs the bucket of dusty rose paint, and prompts you to cover him in the paint as he did for you just a few minutes ago. And you obey, dipping your hands into the chilly paint, and you lightly shake off any excess that drips down your fingers. You bring your hands up to coat Hyunjin’s soft skin that reminds you of those tasty shortbread cookies you receive during the holidays. Your soft hands rub up and down his slim body, your mind racing as you wonder how you ended up here. The intense lust overrides all, taking over any doubts you may have had. 

Hyunjin locks his lips with yours again, his eyes closing as he hums into your mouth. You swallow any noise that leaves him, your fingers gripping his supple flesh as you dip your hands in the paint one last time. A sly smile crosses your face as you bring both hands around Hyunjin, lightly slapping your hands on his ass. His body jumps a little, not expecting such an action from you. He feels your hands grip his ass, a cute but evil laugh bubbling in your chest. 

“So it’s like that, huh?” Hyunjin questions, cocking one of his perfect eyebrows. He stares down at you as you nod. 

Hyunjin just shakes his head as he guides you to lay down on the canvas, his body hovering over your own body. Hyunjin trails kisses form your lips all the way to your neck, leaving a light sheen of saliva in their wake. You tangle your hands in Hyunjin’s long, black hair and you untie the hair tie that’s keeping his hair contained and out of his face. The hair falls gracefully, framing Hyunjin’s face perfectly. You feel goosebump litter your skin as his hair tickles your cheeks. 

As you keep kissing Hyunjin, his body laid on top of your skin, sticky from the paint, his body is keeping your legs spread. He’s rocking his body upwards, his soft abs rubbing against your growing length, causing you to moan softly into his parted mouth. His tongue is licking into your mouth, tasting the sweet pastries you ate before you arrived at his dorm. The taste is intoxicating to him, he just can’t stop kissing you. He loves how soft your lips are against his, and how they faintly taste like mint. You can feel the desperation in the way he kisses and touches you, the way his hands roam your body, the paint mixing together, creating a marble-like effect. 

“I could kiss you all damn day,” Hyunjin pants out when he finally pulls away to allow you both to catch your breath. Your body is buzzing with excitement, the feeling of Hyunjin’s creamy and soft skin rubbing against your hard length causes a pulsing thrill to course through your veins. Hyunjin can feel the precome leaking from your tip as it coats his body, giving him a nice glide as he continues to rub all on you. 

The sound of a door opening shakes both of you out of your dazed and lustful trances. You both turn your attention to the door wide eyed as the person pokes their head into the room. Your body immediately heats up as your eyes land on a mop of blonde hair. Blonde hair that belongs to your gaming partner, Felix. If you weren’t so clouded with high desire and lust, you would be embarrassed. But the fact that you’ve been caught under Hyunjin’s naked body makes your veins tingle. 

Felix’s soft brown eyes flick back and forth between you and Hyunjin, his eyebrows furrowed and a slight frown settling on his freckled face. You’re a little confused, why does he look like a kicked puppy? Is he upset that you and Hyunjin are engaging in such an intimate state of affairs? You want to cradle his face and kiss his frown away. 

“Oh no, Y/N. We forgot to include poor Lixie. What kind of friends are we?” Hyunjin says as he looks at Felix. Hyunjin waves Felix over, gesturing for the blonde to join in. Felix walks into the art studio, his eyes falling on your body. He takes in the way your legs are spread open, the pastel blue paint coating your skin, with small amounts of dusty rose paint mixed in. He so desperately wants to join you and Hyunjin, and he’s almost positive that you want him to join in as well.

As Felix stands there, not entirely sure what to do, you speak up. “Hyunjin, is Lixie going to be joining us?” You ask. 

“We have to make it up to him somehow, don’t you think?” Hyunjin says, and you nod in agreement. Felix’s face warms up, his cheeks and ears turning a soft red color as his heart pounds heavily in his chest. “Come on, Lixie. Get undressed and join us.”

Felix wastes absolutely no time in ridding himself of his clothes. Once he’s fully nude, he kneels down beside your head, his length hanging heavily between his legs. You examine his naked skin, noticing that his freckles don’t stop at his cheeks. You notice the light scattering of freckles on his thighs and stomach and you want to kiss every single freckle. 

Hyunjin helps you sit up, and he stands up. “Why don’t you make it up to him, Y/N. Give him plenty of kisses to show how sorry you are for leaving him out. I’ll be back in just a sec.” Hyunjin says as he goes to get some more paint for Felix. 

You turn your body and look deep into Felix’s eyes. You notice flecks of light brown in his eyes. His pupils are blown wide as he looks from your eyes to your lips and back again. You both lean in at the same time, meeting in the middle as your lips connect. Kissing Felix is very different from Hyunjin. Felix’s lips aren’t as soft as Hyunjin’s, and the chapped skin rubs against your own lips in just the right way. Fe;ix slides his tongue inside your mouth as his hands find their place on your hips, rubbing little circles on the flesh there. You hum into his mouth as you scoot closer to him, and you find yourself on top of him as he pushes your hips to grind your hard cocks together. 

Hyunjin watches you both make out for a while until he’s setting a paint bucket down, causing you to break your kiss with Felix, but not once letting up on the grinding. 

“Y/N, why don’t you cover Lixie in some paint? We wouldn’t want to leave him out of this masterpiece, would we?”

After you all are messy and covered in paint, you find yourself on your back as Hyunjin is buried deep inside you, his hips moving at the pace of a snail. Felix is hovering over your head, his cock buried inside your wet, warm mouth. Hyunjin and Felix are kissing messily above you, drops of their mixed saliva falling on your body. You’re whining, the sound slightly muffled by Felix’s cock being forced down your throat. It burns a little, but not in a bad way. You were no stranger to giving blowjobs, but you’ve never taken one that was the size of Felix. He was huge, to be frank. His cock is thick too, you wonder how someone as slim as him could live with such a monster cock. His cock stretches your throat nicely, it makes your eyes roll to the back of your head. 

“Look, Lixie. Our little doll’s eyes are rolling to the back of his head. I guess we’re doing a good job of stuffing his holes.” Hyunjin teases and you can hear Felix chuckle as he thrusts into your mouth, and you can feel his short wiry pubic hair touch your chin. You let out a choked noise when he does, spit falling from the corners of your mouth. 

“I guess so, Hyun. I have an idea, though.” Felix says, pulling out of your mouth, a string of saliva connecting between your bottom lip and the tip of his cock. He sits back on his heels as he watches Hyunjin stop the slow thrusts of his hips. “Let’s see who can make our little doll cum the fastest, yeah?” Felix says, knowing Hyunjin can’t resist a little competition. 

“That’s a perfect idea, Lixie. Why don’t I go first since I’m already inside him?” Hyunjin says. Felix agrees as he grabs his phone to keep track of the time. He sits down by your head again and he starts the time. 

Once Hyunjin gets the go-ahead, he starts to slam into you at a brutal pace, causing you to arch your back off the canvas. You let out a high-pitched whine as you feel his hands grab onto your left leg, placing the limb over his shoulder so he can pound into your tight heat much deeper. You cry out, Hyunjin’s name falling from your lips as your body bounces from the force of his thrusts. 

Hyunjin grunts continuously as he loses himself in the pleasure. His dark hair is sticking to his forehead and his neck as the small art studio quickly heats up. He can feel the sweat dripping down his body, little drops falling from his nose and into his mouth. He brings his hand to wrap around your angry length, stroking it fast and matching the pace of his hips rocking into you. It doesn’t take long for you to cry out, long and loud, as you spill all over Hyunjin’s hand, the milky white liquid splashing onto your chest. Your body shakes with pleasure as you feel Hyunjin paint your inner walls white with his release. He pumps himself inside you a few more times before he pulls out, watching as the white liquid drips out of your hole. 

“Four minutes and twenty-two seconds, Hyun.” Felix says turning his phone to Hynnjin to prove that he isn’t lying. 

“Huh, not half bad. Think you can do better, Lixie?’ Hyunjin says. There’s a teasing lightness to his voice, and Felix tuts, handing the older male his phone. 

“Tch, of course I can do better. Just watch me.” Felix says as he crawls over to you. He helps you get on your hands and knees. You let him move you, your mind still reeling from the way Hyunjin just railed you like it was nothing. 

As you hold yourself up as best as you can, you feel Felix’s length slide its way into you. You feel full, a soft whimper falling from your lips. Hyunjin starts the clock, and Felix is fully inside you, his tip kissing your prostate without him even having to try. He lets you adjust for a few short seconds until he’s absolutely slamming into you. He hits your prostate dead on, and you can already feel that tight coil in your gut beginning to unravel. You let out a string of curses as Felix abuses your hole, your cock dripping in between your legs. You can’t hold it anymore at this point, and you feel yourself gushing all over the canvas below you. You cry out, tears falling down your cheeks as overstimulation takes over your body. You feel your arms giving out as they wobble. Hyunjin, acting fast, makes sure you don’t fall flat on your face as he slides under your upper body, allowing you to fall into his lap. Your ass is still up in the air, your hips held tightly in Felix’s hands. He thrusts a few more times and he finds himself spilling into you, his cum mixing with Hyunjin’s. He pulls out of you, using his thumb to push any cum that attempts to drip out of you. 

“Well, looks like you win, Lixie. Three minutes and seven seconds.” Hyunjin says. There’s a pout on his face, not really liking the idea of losing. He’ll have to get over it, because the only thing he’s worried about right now is making sure he and Felix didn’t break you. He strokes your hair as you lay on his lap, breathing heavily, your body twitching every few seconds as you come down from such an intense high. 

“We should really clean up. The paint is drying and getting crusty.” Felix says, picking at the soft purple paint that’s drying on his skin. Hyunjin nods, and a smirk creeps onto his face. 

“Round two in the shower?”

Oh good lord. Someone please help you.