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nynxhaswritersblockk · 7 months ago

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Just a little something I was thinking of while looking through my old Wattpad account and the library I had on there 🙂

TW: Guns, italian Mafia, threatening, kidnapping, yk the drill :3

You always made fun of those cringy Y/N fanfics, "I put my hair in a messy bun and didn't put on any makeup" - It made you laugh. "Sold to Harry Styles, "Sold to one direction", etc. Ofcourse as a teen you read them, typical stuff that a middle, or even Highschooler during your time would do. You remember sitting in your bed when you were 13, it was 2012 at the time, you were reading those "Creepy pasta/ Jeff the Killer x Y/N" stories; Thinking back on it it was a good time, you were young and practically innocent, if not a little dirty minded due to the smut you read, but does it really matter now? Your favorite genre had always been something else though, not being sold to Harry styles or running away from home and joining the creepy pasta; a phase you got over just a few years ago, no it was something else, "Being sold to the mafia." Thinking back it's more cringe than the rest, considering that no mafia boss is a good looking, tall and muscular italian man that would buy you off your parents and call you "Amore", no, the mafia is cruel and if they were to own you, you'd just be a toy to their old, grumpy, ugly and overlooked by wrinkles boss.

You're twenty-four now, wow big age, huh? You have a loving partner and a stable job, engaged even, planning the wedding and all. Currently your husband is on a work trip, it's November third 2023 (remember this date very well), your birthday was just a few days ago and sadly you had to celebrate without your loving fiancé. The couch has become your comfort space, the chocolate lab you own laying next to you, snorting in his sleep. "Lil trashcan" is what you call him, though his actual name is "lucky"; The nickname came from him eating everything, not eating, more like inhaling.

"Lucky," You whistled after, making sure to get his full attention as you turned the TV off. He looked at you with his big brown eyes, blinking stupidly. "wanna go to bed, big guy?" You ask sweetly, scratching that specific spot on his back, the one that make his leg twitch slightly and tail wag faster than usually. You get up and pull his blanket away, he gets up, stretching on the floor and yawning, a loud high whine. You blink a few times, confused as to why your dog was always exaggerating everything.

A quick stop in the kitchen to grab your phone from it's charging station, stupid to put in the kitchen you may think, but useful when your phone is on 5% and you need a Recipe to cook something. You check it, three missed calls from "Mom", one missed call from "Dad" and four missed calls from "Liam", your brother. "Jesus" You mutter out and dial your mom's number, as she is the most calmest when you miss her calls.

"Sweetie?" Her voice calls out over the phone, slightly shaky, you're concerned now. "Hey mom, is everything alright?" She is still for a moment and you can hear your brother say something from behind her. Liam is your older brother, he's twenty-seven and even though you got the usual younger sibling treatment from him, you love him to death. "Mom?" You call out again, snapping her back to the call, "Yes, sorry, sweetie!" She quickly says and begins speaking before you could, "How fast can you be over at our house? We have something to discuss with you" She says, sounding concerned and nervous. You look at the time, it's 1am, why is she still awake? "Uhm.. I can be there in ten?" You offer and she sighs in relief, weird. "Good, see you then, sweetie!" She doesn't say anything, instead hangs up and leaves you just as confused as you had been before.

"Guess we're not going to sleep, huh? Wanna visit granny?" You say to your dog, smiling a bit as you pat his head. You put his leash on him, put on your shoes, grab your coat and pocket your phone, then you head out. After a good five minutes of trying to get your dog in the car, finally managing it, you sit in the drivers seat and start driving. A calm drive in the rainy night, a million thoughts raced your mind though. What could be stressing your mother out so much that she asks you to come over at one in the morning?

When you arrive at her house you spot a black car with a strange License plate on it, it's not an US one, neither is it from any other countries on the continent called America. You shrug, thinking it probably belongs to your mom's neighbour. You get lucky out of the car and head for your mom's door, before you can ring the doorbell it opens and you're met with a man in a black suit, he looks to be in his late thirties, early forties, maybe even older.

"Uhm Hi? Is my mom he-" *He pulls you in the house, your dog being pulled in with you as he shuts the door loudly, grabbing the leash from you and pulling the dog with him. "Living room." He says harshly and pushes you forward. Goosebumps make it's way on your skin, a lump in your throat and the hairs at the back of your neck standing up. Heavy steps lead you to the living room, your brother is sitting on the couch, a gun held to his head by a similarly old looking man, his pointer on the trigger and ready to press it at any moment. Your parents, old and frail people that devoted their life to raising you properly, stand across your brother, looking stressed out. Tears pricked at your eyes at the sight. "M-Mom?" You mumbled out, looking at her nervously. You hear the gun at your brother's head cock and your gaze snaps to the sound. "What is going on?" You whisper quietly, seeking eye contact with your brother, but he avoids it. "My my, what a sweet young woman, mh" A voice says from behind you, you turn around, your breath caught in your throat. He looks old; wrinkles around his dark brown eyes, a strong jawline, bushy eyebrows, prominent cheekbones and full lips; A creepy smile on his face. "To answer your question, your brother here has given us a slight bit of trouble," His italian accent is thick, not something you would enjoy though, "and I'm giving you a choice now, either you come back with us to our beautiful, sunny italy and I'll marry you to my son, because he's looking for a wife or your brother gets his brains blown out right infront of you and your parents." Time stops around you, you feel dizzy, a weird feeling in your gut that makes you want to throw up. Then everything is gone, the last thing you feel is your head hitting the floor and your mom's shriek as you faint.

A few hours pass by, atleast you think so, then you wake up. Duck tape over your mouth, eyes covered with a blindfold, ankles and hands tied together with rope. Where ever you're sitting is a moving vehicle, your best guess is the car you saw outside your parents's house. You want to cry, tears pricking at your eyes as you breathe heavily, the tape over your mouth restricting your breathing and stressing you out; you feel like fainting once again.

#mafia x reader #mafia boss #yn

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ironwoman18 · 6 months ago

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Rather Be - Part 2

A little disclaimer, I will mention events from the manga up to date so if you only watch the anime. Know this chapter contains small spoilers on future situations.

Chapter 2: Our first kiss... Sort of

Twilight was needed for an important mission and he had to leave for the whole week.

Luckily for him there is going to be a medical conference where he has to go.

“Lucky bastard... Even the perfect excuses knock your door at the right time” said Sylvia smiling at her best agent “We already added Loid Forger to the list and for your wife and the government you will be there”

He nodded and smiled softly “good. I'm glad I have good luck on this one”

Sylvia just smirked “yeah... Since I met you, you have good luck... I guess Operation Strix is just that difficult”

“I guess so” he said and left WISE headquarters and headed home.

He arrived and had to cook the dinner since Yor had to stay an extra hour due to a Fair that will happen on the weekend.

It became more frequent that she cooked dinner, thanks to Granny Barbara and her husband, Grandpa Siggy helped Anya to study so she could understand better what she was learning at school.

Those elders, without knowing it, were helping a spy from another country to bring peace to both of them.

When Yor arrived Loid sat down and explained to them about him leaving the next day and won't return until Friday night.

Yor nodded “We are going to miss you, Loid but I know those conferences help doctors to get better so I will support you here with Anya and Bond”

Loid smiled back, a genuine one, and added “I know you will and you know I trust you on that” then turned to Anya “this time let's hope your school doesn't plan an excursion” he said with a bittersweet taste, because last time he had to left she was kidnapped alongside his target’s son, Becky and the rest of her class.

“Don't worry papa... It won't happen” she said like a military with her hand on her forehead. Both Yor and Loid laughed softly.

They finished their dinner and after brushing their teeth they went to bed.

The next day. Yor made breakfast and after that they let Anya leave in the school bus and the couple walked separate ways. She went to her job and he went to the train station.

At the train station was Fiona and Doctor Lewis Armstrong (Code Name: Daybreak) who was a little taller than Twilight, brown hair and white skin. He was an MD in the same hospital and was there to assist Twilight if he needed back up.

“The sky doesn't have any clouds, right?” Said Twilight.

“Indeed. I shouldn't have brought my umbrella” said Daybreak, looking back at the other spy.

Fiona didn't say anything since she already knew Twilight and had the same conversation with Daybreak when she arrived.

They started to tap their feet on the floor communicating with Morse code and looking around like waiting for the train.

“The mission is finding the database of the vice president of Desmond's party. People said he used it to buy adversaries and to convince others to follow their ideology” said Nightfall.

“Why the three of us?” Asked Twilight.

“You are the master of disguise, I'm a sharpshooter and Nightfall can act like your wife so your role is more reliable” added Daybreak.

“I was afraid you would say that. I usually work alone” said Twilight but before Nightfall could reply, the train arrived and they will discuss the case later.

The trip was quiet and it will take most of the day to arrive at the place. Twilight somehow missed Anya’s tv show in the background, the sudden touches of Bond’s tail and hearing Yor whistling while making tea and hot chocolate for Anya.

‘How can I miss all that while I'm on a mission? I'm Twilight, the best spy from WISE. Loid Forger is a character I created...’ He sighed and quit reading, turning on the TV in his room and seeing Bondman on TV. He smiled softly.

‘Ay Loid Forger you're taking control of me... I shouldn't let it happen but, it feels... Right?’ thought him as he watched the tv spy fighting bad guys.

The next day they arrived at their destination and signed up in the hotel. Doctor Forger, Doctor Armstrong and their secretary, Fiona.

After putting their stuff in their room, informing their family, mostly Loid and Lewis, they began to gather information on their target. These took all day and at night they ordered food and planned everything.

As always and to Nightfall’s delight, Twilight had eight hundred sixty-five plans in his head.

After he shared the main line they left to their mission.

Daybreak would be their backup in case they needed it. Nightfall was already recovered from her injuries and stronger than before. And Twilight had his costume ready to act as Leon Bridges, a man interested in the war politics of Desmond’s political party.

They surely will draw their target’s attention.

Twilight had a light brown wig, his normal blue eyes were now green. He was wearing a black suit with a blue shirt and black tie, Fiona was “his wife” Meredith Bridges, black hair and red eyes with black dress, a copy of Yor’s look.

This didn't escape Twilight's perception “you look just like Yor” he said in a whisper.

“It's a very common sight in the south” said Fiona without looking at him.

He rolled his eyes looking around “you had been studying her?”

“I wanted to know why you picked her as your partner in Operation Strix. What does she have that you didn't pick an expert spy?”

“She is good with Anya and she's trying to help without knowing my mission. But I'm not here to discuss my decisions Nightfall. I'm here to finish the mission” she just nodded and they continued with his plan.

The main course was going smoothly. This helped discard already six hundred plans. As the night went on, the line of actions became smaller until they reached their goal.

But of course something had to go wrong, the mission was almost compromised and he had to improvise. He was the best because of his quick thinking.

But watching Nightfall's wig and contact lenses made his legs and brain slower than usual.

The thoughts of Anya and Yor came to his mind and he cursed himself because he was letting Operation Strix get in his head.

A bullet almost hit him, it barely touched his arm enough to leave a cut. His mind was foggy and full of THEM, those two women he realized he cared too much to be just another mission.

Yor was doing her best to cook better, Anya had three Stellars and finally met someone who can explain things to her and get her to understand them.

He can't lose them, he always thought Operation Strix was another mission but, now they were his family and he will protect them. Even if he had to return with just an arm, he will return, just to see their faces again.

These made him recover control over his body and think quickly. He wasn't used to killing but if it was necessary he would so he got a gun and shot it, killing a couple of them. Daybreak and Nightfall also kill the others, giving Twilight a chance to get in a room and to get a new costume and steal the data with ease.

The next day after their wounds were treated, the three spies left.

“Superior... I wanted to apologize... I shouldn't used Yor Forger’s look for the mission it was reckless and stupid”

“Nightfall... I picked her because she showed strength, she was in need and so was I... It was a common cause, I needed a wife for Eden and she needed a boyfriend/ husband so people didn't say that she was a spy. But they... The way she is with Anya, how she compromised with being a good wife, made me think I made the right decision. Maybe if I have another agent it would be easier but Yor fit even more because she may the mission look imperfect”

Nightfall nodded, he was even more perfect than what were her expectations and something was clear to her. At this point in time... Yor Brier, erm... Forger had 2 points against 0 points for her.

On Friday night Loid was back home and he smiled at the little welcome party. Anya made a star with paper and with Yor’s handwriting it said:

To the best papa.

I love you

Loid smiled and kissed Anya's head and hugged her which was a surprise for her but she let it flow since her daddy wasn't normally like this.

“Tomorrow is the Fair so I want to invite you all” said looking at all of them. They nodded and after dinner they went to bed and slept all night which was weird for him since he was used to not sleeping all night.

The next day after breakfast they left and went to the fair. Got to the attractions, played fair games and won plush animals for Anya.

They ate hotdogs and fed Bond with sausages. After a fun day the Town Hall decided to close it with fireworks.

Sadly Anya fell asleep so Loid held her in his arm, biting his lips due to the pain in his arm and smiled at Yor.

“Thank you for taking care of her while I was gone” he smiled, causing her to blush which made him act impulsive for the first time as Twilight. He leans in and kisses her cheek then he looks away with a red face as well as Yor’s.

They headed back to their house after the fireworks show. Yor was still red after Loid kisses her cheek.

OOooOOooOO

Hope you enjoyed this one. Maybe less sweet and short but our dear Twilight needed to realize he cared for Yor and Anya deeply.

#spy x family #loid forger #yor forger #anya forger #loid x yor

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mortal-mayhem · 2 years ago

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♡.¸¸.·Drugging·.¸¸.♡

Smutober - Day 2

Warnings: Smut, fem-based reader, aphrodisiac, slight overstimulation, rough sex, etc.

Notes: Just so you're aware going in, this is fully consensual! Wukong and Reader are an established couple who've had discussions of Blanket Consent before.

Usually, Wukong's and Mk's dialogue would be orange. But, for easy reading, Mk's will be yellow instead.

ㅤ

You let your mind wander as you scrubbed the plate in your hands. The window above your kitchen sink gave a pretty view of the night sky, the artificial lights of Megapolis on the horizon.

Living outside of the city was nice. You had perfect privacy, and plenty of space, and the quiet was always nice. It didn't take too much for your friends to visit, either.

With that said, nothing could have prepared you for the sound of something crashing outside your home.

You jumped, nearly dropping the plate in fright. Turning around to face your front door, across the kitchen and living room, you froze.

After a few seconds, nothing happened.

Maybe you were more tired than you thought? It is pretty late. Deciding you should hurry to bed, you turn back to your sink.

Only to let out a yelp as the door slams open.

"MONKEY KING, NO-!" You heard, but before you could turn around arms were wrapping around your waist and a tail around your thigh. You tensed in surprise.

"Peeeeacheees~," the monkey slurred his speech, resting his chin on your shoulder. He rubbed his cheek against yours, a dumb grin on his lips, "I missed yooouu~"

"I- Wukong??" You stammered, trying to pull away from his embrace to turn around. It didn't work, "Not that I don't want you here, but what's with the sudden visit? And the crash?"

"Oh my gosh, I am SO sorry!" Mk, who had chased Wukong inside, spoke from behind you both. You heard him struggling, then felt the monkey's grip on you grow tighter, "He just flew off and I kept telling him to leave you alone but he wanted to see you so bad and I'm so sorry about your yard-"

"Okay, okay!" You laughed, placing the half-washed plate in the sink. Instead of pulling away, since that didn't work last time, you decided to sort of shuffle around until you were able to see. Wukong let you, opting to shove his face into your neck. He was letting out a deep rumble.

Over his shoulder, you saw Mk still struggling to pull the king off of you. He wasn't making any difference.

"Now-" You started, making the successor look up at you with guilty eyes, "What's going on?"

ㅤ

It's a good thing you're used to the shenanigans these two get into by now. But, even so, you'll still never be prepared for this monkey's dumb decisions.

You sat on your couch- Well, really it was Wukong who was on your couch, with him forcing you to sit on his lap. He held you close, his face stuffed into your neck while his tail lazily traced up and down your thigh. The situation made your face warm, but you kept your cool as Mk explained, sitting across from you in your 'granny chair'...

Mk, being as animated as they are, threw his hands in the air as he spoke, "And instead of asking what it was, he just- took it! AND DRANK IT!"

Wukong had decided that his student deserved a treat and took him to a village not too far from here. After going around the shops for a bit, they ordered some food.

It was then that an older woman in a cloak approached them, offering a special drink. Mk was suspicious of this, but the royal was sure of it is fine. Something about how the drinks they had there were the best for fun.

Mk didn't take the drink, but Wukong did. And by the time the monkey had downed the drink, the woman was gone, so he didn't get to ask what it was.

"So.." You started, trying to readjust yourself into a more comfortable position. The king whined, upset that you were trying to move, "He's.. drunk?"

"No- At least, not just that," Mk sighed, standing up. He walked over to you both, poking the top of the king's head until he looked up with a pout, "See?"

You looked at the royal inquisitively, blinking owlishly. Noticing your gaze, Wukong happily stared back with half-lidded eyes and a lovesick smile. Where his pupils should be were pink hearts, and he had a blush dusting his cheeks.

"That's.." You trailed off, eyebrows furrowing in worry.

Mk breathed out, nodding.

"He wasn't even talking... Not until he got here, at least."

You three sat in silence for a few minutes, save for Wukong's.. purring?

"... What do we do-?"

ㅤ

After a few failed attempts at getting the monkey to let go of you, you and Mk decided he'd go look for help while you kept an eye on the king.

"I don't think he'll be going anywhere," the boy had laughed, watching as his mentor snuggled into you.

ㅤ

So here you are, stuck in your living room with a lovestruck monkey that won't let you go.

You would've put something on TV if you could reach the remote, but it's on the table and Wukong doesn't want to let you out of his grip for anything.

He's focused on nuzzling his face into your neck right now, making you giggle from his fur tickling your skin. This seems to encourage him, making him purr louder and his tail thump against your leg.

Sadly though, your back was starting to ache from sitting in the same position for so long.

"Sunshine," You cooed, grabbing his attention. He looked up at you, one of his sharp teeth caught on his lip. You snickered, leaning up to rub your nose against his, "Not that I don't want you to- But if you're going to hold me for so long, why don't we lay down?"

In the next moment, you were on your back, faster than you could process. You stared wide-eyed up at him as he hovered over you.

He began to pepper your face with kisses, making you giggle and blush. And as he trailed his lips down your neck, settling his head on your chest, you brought your hand up to his head to gently scratch at his scalp.

You stayed like that for a while, thinking nothing of his fidgeting. It was when you heard his breath growing faster that you looked back down at him.

"Sunshine..?" You called, hearing him whimper in response, "What's wrong, baby?"

He shuffled, breathing heavily as he pressed his crotch into your leg. Oh.

You felt his hardness quickly growing against you, shuddering as he looked up at you.

He let out a low growl as his eyes darkened, the pink hearts shifting to a deep red. He slowly lifted himself above you.

"Wukong.." You breathed, face warm.

He brought his hips down onto yours in an agonizingly slow grind, making you whimper. You felt his cock straining against his pants, pressing into your warmth. You tensed, placing your hands on his shoulders.

You try to speak, but before you can his lips are pressed against yours.

His hand reached up to gently grip the back of your head, grinding into you as he kissed you, deep and passionate.

You closed your eyes, kissing him back gently. And as you pulled back for a breath, you felt a change.

Your body began to feel warm. Your legs were shaky and your eyes rolled back. You heard him chuckle, his teeth pressing into your neck now. His free hand slid down your body and to your shorts. He licked and sucked your neck, making you feel lightheaded. When did you get so sensitive?

You felt his fingers slip into your underwear, teasing that sweet little bundle of nerves. You let out a quiet moan as you felt his fingers grow slick with your arousal. Your eyelids fluttered, lost in the feeling of him. It's like everything else in the world disappeared, leaving just the two of you.

And the king lifted his head, watching as your pupils changed shape with each blink. He grinned at the feeling of your thighs clenching around his hand.

"Sweet peach.." He cooed, and your attention snapped to him.

"Sunshine.."

Your voice was shaky. Your body felt so hot, so weak. His fingers slid down your heat, using his thumb to play with that sensitive nub. He circled his index finger around your entrance.

You whined and whimpered as his finger slowly pressed into you, and he chirped in delight. Your back slowly arched, your toes clenching. You felt so sensitive like you were already teetering on the edge.

He pressed another finger into you, one of your hands flying down to grip his forearm.

"Fuck, fuck.." You breathed, legs shaking. With a curl of his fingers, you saw stars.

Your back arched as your mouth opened in a silent scream, your mind going blank. You couldn't think about anything but him.

He watched with a lovesick gaze as you came undone, smiling sweetly. His tail slowly swayed behind him in delight.

You didn't come down from your high right away, still feeling the waves of pleasure course through you as he pulled his fingers out of your shorts.

He started as the pink hearts in your eyes faded to red at the sight of him licking your slick off of his fingers.

ㅤ

Fingers latched onto clothing, pulling it off and throwing it to an unknown corner of the room. He pulled you into his lap again at some point, back facing him as his cock slowly inched into you.

His hands trailed up your body, balancing on his knees as his tail, wrapping around your waist, lifted you up and down on his dick. He teased and tweaked your nipples, cock twitching in desire at your noises. He wasn't quiet, either, groaning and growling as he felt your warmth wrapped around him.

He felt you tighten around him as you came once more, licking up your neck as you squealed. He didn't stop his quick pace, not even as he felt himself fill you up with his cum. He fucked it all back into you, throwing you on your side and lifting your leg over his shoulder.

Time and time again, he brought you to completion on his cock. On your back, folding you in half. On your knees, face pressed into the cushions. He fucked you with an animalistic urge, leaving you crying and begging for more each time.

It wasn't until the fifth time he filed you that he slowed to a stop.

He had you held up by your knees, dropping you up and down on his dick in time with his thrusts. His head was resting back on the couch, eyes closed in pleasure as he listened closely to your sounds. You don't know how many times you've cum by now, losing count after 4.

His cock hit so very deep inside of you in this position, making you moan and cry out. Your eyes were rolled back into your head, tongue hanging out of your mouth. Until now, you always thought those faces were an over-exaggeration. Now you know better.

His tail squeezed around your wrists, holding them behind your back to keep them out of the way.

You felt yourself reaching that peak again, babbling nonsense as your love growled. He twitched inside of you right before he held you still, keeping you in the air as he rut his hips up into you at a rough, quick pace, pushing you over that edge.

And as you clamped down on him in your ecstasy, his cum shot up into you again. Your voice was hoarse as you cried out, body shaking and twitching.

And finally, slowly, he gently slid you down to settle on his cock, keeping him warm as you both basked in the relief.

Your breathing gradually eased into taking slow deep breaths, exhaustion finally taking over your body.

"Fuck.." You heard him finally speak with a sigh, his tail carefully releasing your wrists. He set your legs down, opting to wrap his arms around your waist instead. He leaned forward, nuzzling his face into your hickey-covered neck.

"Thank you, baby.." He cooed.

He slowly lifted you off of him, watching as his cum poured out of you. He sweetly shushed your whimpers, moving you into his arms bridal style.

"Let's go get cleaned up, yeah?"

He gazed into your eyes as he pressed his forehead to yours. The hearts were quickly fading from his golden hues. You could only hum in response, too tired to talk. He chuckled, pecking your nose.

ㅤ

After a long bath and an explanation, which included his several apologies, you were resting with him on your couch once more, newly clothed and clean. He took it upon himself to pick up your discarded clothing for you.

Turns out, that little drink he had was a lot different than he remembered. It used to just bring out the wild side in him. He figured that, since he had someone to call his own now, it reacted much differently.

You didn't mind, you told him. You'd both already talked about blanket consent, so you weren't worried. Maybe just plan next time.

"Next time, huh?" He grinned, arm wrapped around your shoulder as you leaned into him.

"Shut up.." You grumbled, cuddled up in the blanket he got you. You snuggled into him as he chuckled.

You both jumped as the door slammed open, a slightly roughed-up Mk standing in the frame.

"It took me several hours and a lot of side quests-" He panted, smiling tiredly as he held out a box of... Tea?

"But I finally got an antidote!"

#lego monkie kid #lmk #lmk sun wukong #sun wukong #lmk x reader #lego sun wukong #lego monkie kid x reader #lego monkie king #lmk sun wukong x reader #sun wukong x reader #lmk wukong #monkie kid wukong #lmk wukong x reader #wukong x reader #sun wukong smut #lego monkie kid smut #lmk smut #smutober #aphrodisiac

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endless-season · 2 years ago

Text

Westmoon Chapter 12 [END] - Lucien Split Route

Previous Lucien part here: Westmoon Chapter 10 Part 9 To 13 - Lucien

12-1

MC finds a letter from her master

12-2

I clutched the letter Master left me, my heart full of turmoil.

MC: “I’ll wait for you where all things return to.”

MC: All things return... does he mean the Retrobyss…?

Across all the legends in Westmoon, the Retrobyss was known as a hidden and mysterious place.

And all without exception, described how concentrated the demonic aura was in its depths.

These past few days, the Occulstone fragment within me grew more and more agitated. Maybe it was just as Lucien said… my Occulstone probably wouldn’t be able to withstand any further damage from demonic aura.

MC: If this might be my last chance then…

Then before I go, I have to at least go see the one I care about most…

I followed the instructions Lucien gave last time, and made my way to where Max was now living.

There was Max, as well an old woman.

His expression was no longer as mournful as before, when he saw me he even managed to make out a smile.

But when he heard I was looking for Lucien, he showed a surprised expression.

Max: Mister Lucien?

Max: Mister left soon after he helped me settle down here. I thought he went to find you.

MC: Eh? But I haven’t seen him.

Max: Is that so… then I don’t know where he is, sorry.

While we were talking, the old woman also came outside.

Old woman: Max, who is this?

Max: This is my teacher’s wife. The one I told you about, remember?

Max: She’s looking for Mister, and has no idea where he’s gone. How could he just leave her alone like this!

MC: I’m not…

Being referred to as “teacher’s wife” made my face red and I wasn’t sure how to explain. The old woman smiled.

Old woman: Miss, take it as my experience of being an old wife. If you can’t find someone, try looking somewhere you’re both familiar with.

Old woman: Like where you pledged your love, or exchanged your vows… maybe you’ll find something there.

MC: Okay, okay, thank you granny for your guidance. I’ll go have a look right now. Max, I’ll be off now okay?

Max: Okay! See you Miss!

Max: Granny, your health is not the best and the weather is so strange these days. I’ll take you back inside.

Shaking his tail, Max helped the old woman back into the room. Looking at the two, it was only then that I realised-

This old woman, was an ordinary human.

MC: … That’s nice.

Perhaps the hopes the Strangelings had, could slowly be fulfilled.

Rarewood was as overgrown as last time, no longer lush and vibrant as before.

I treaded across broken branches and leaves and arrived at the lakeside. The curtain inside the pavilion swayed in the breeze but there was no snowy white figure within.

Only now did I understand-

This really was the only place that connected us in this vast world.

MC: *sigh*…

I gave a deep sigh, and squatted on the ground a bit disheartened.

I small firefly flew from the lake, and landed on a spoilt flower before me.

I gently poked it, a bit upset. The firefly didn’t fly far, it just looped around in a circle, and landed back in its original spot.

MC: Tell me… where else can I go to find him?

MC: I thought I already understood him, but it turns out I’ve got nothing to go on.

MC: Plus, it’s not like he and I are like what the old granny said, we don’t have anywhere that we ‘pledged our love’ or ‘exchanged our vows’…

MC: I don’t even know where he lived when he was still human!

The firefly’s wings quivered. Who knew whether it understood me or not.

MC: In fact, pretty much the only times we’ve met were in dreams…

MC: What if I just knock myself unconscious right now and go look for him in my dreams!

Lucien: No need.

A familiar voice sounded from behind. I turned around in surprise and almost lost my balance. Luckily Lucien grabbed me from behind and pulled me up.

MC: Lucien…!

Lucien: Yes, I’m here.

He was wearing the same white clothes, his expression calm, just as before.

It was as if there were no traces anything having affected him. But I could tell that something intangible had changed.

The firefly also alighted from the spoilt flower and circled down onto Lucien’s sleeve. He looked at the firefly and gave a slight smile.

Lucien: But I didn’t realise that MC was so dissatisfied with the fact we had nowhere where we pledged our love and exchanged our vows, and that we could only secretly meet within a dream.

Lucien: You were so willing to secretly tell the firefly, and yet you didn’t tell me?

12-3

MC: I didn’t mean that…

Being teased by Lucien like that, I was a bit embarrassed and could only change the topic.

MC: Oh right, how did you know I was here? Did Max tell you?

Lucien: No.

Lucien tilted his head and gave a half smile.

Lucien: What if I told you it was my intuition that told me you were here?

His light tone was just like that fox tail of his, you could immediately tell he was lying.

His smile only grew as he watched me pout.

He took my hand and led me away from the lakeside.

Lucien: Let’s go.

MC: Go where?

Lucien: Don’t we need to go to the Retrobyss?

MC: …?!

How did he know I was going there?

Lucien: MC wants to know how I know where you’re going?

As if he could read minds, he immediately said what I was thinking. As soon as I nodded, his eyebrows raised.

Lucien: Sorry, this I cannot reveal.

MC: ! How can you be like this! Didn’t you say you wouldn’t trick me any more…

Lucien: I’ll tell you when we get there. Let this Great Fox Strangeling keep his mysteriousness for a just bit longer, won’t you?

When he used that voice, I couldn’t help it and could only raise my hands and surrender.

MC: But the Retrobyss will definitely be dangerous. Are you really going with me?

Lucien: Of course I’m going with you.

Lucien: If I let you go into danger alone, aren’t I betraying the blessings and hopes that the Strangelings bestowed upon us.

As soon as we entered the abyss, I realised something wasn’t right. The Retrobyss was the source of all demonic aura, however at this moment it was even more peaceful than outside.

MC: How come it’s completely different from the rumours…

Lucien looked around calmly.

Lucien: It’s not completely different, rather someone’s come in and pulled a few tricks.

MC: Could it be my master…?

Lucien: Don’t think so.

Lucien: From what I’ve observed over the years, although the Oracle comes from beyond our world, he is not materialistic, and is straightforward.

Lucien: Since he’s asked to meet with you, he wouldn’t lay any traps.

Lucien: What we have to be wary of is perhaps an uninvited guest.

MC: You mean someone else came before us… They’re not planning to ambush us are they?

Lucien closed his eyes for a moment as if sensing something, then opened his eyes and sneered.

Lucien: … a pathetic trap.

He waved his hand and extinguished the torch in his hand, sinking the space into darkness.

Lucien: The torch is useless now, just follow me.

I nodded and tightened my grip on his hand. Lucien smiled, squeezed my palm with his thumb in the darkness and then took the first step.

Lucien walked leisurely, as if he was going for a stroll in this boundless abyss. But as we walked, I felt as if something had changed.

In the beginning I only had some kind of confused feeling, as if we were continually brushing past all sorts of dangers.

The deeper we went, the Occulstone within me could clearly feel the dense demonic aura in our surroundings as if we were walking through chaos.

MC: Lucien… there’s something nearby…

Lucien: Shh…

Lucien: Someone gathered all the demonic aura that was originally here and set a lot of traps.

Lucien: If we alarm them, we might fall into a not so great dream.

I immediately covered my mouth to show I wouldn’t make a sound.

Lucien: You don’t need to be that nervous, I’m here.

We avoided the demonic aura, and continued down. Suddenly, I noticed something faintly light up ahead.

There’s light?

Who would’ve known, as we gradually got closer to the light, an enormous Occulstone appeared before front of us!

Unlike the broken Occulstone within me, this Occulstone was flawless, its light flickering like the heartbeart of the world deep in this abyss.

Lucien stared fixed at this scene and only opened his mouth a while later.

Lucien: Gods bow down and the moon rises from the west… now I understand everything.

MC: Understand what?

Lucien: Regarding this Westmoon…

Lucien paused, as if he had sensed something and turned to look at the occulstone.

Lucien: My apologies, the little pranks you set were a bit boring.

Lucien: So we’ve arrived a bit early.

As soon as Lucien spoke, a man rushed out from behind the Occulstone.

??: How did you get here… I clearly…?!

Even though I only met him that time a hundred years in the past, I already memorised this face- it was that man with the cloak!

MC: You’re that guy from another world…!

Knowing his complete disregard for human life from a hundred years ago, I wasn’t bothered talking with him and cut to the chase.

MC: Where is my master?

Man in Cloak: Hah. What makes you think I’d answer the question of a mere vessel?

Man in Cloak: And as for you…

The man in cloak completely didn’t expect us to arrive so soon. He glared at Lucien full of gloom.

Man in Cloak: I don’t think believe that anyone in this world can avoid my Evol.

Lucien: Evol…? Oh, you mean your Occult?

Lucien: I don’t know why Your Excellence has so much confidence, but this isn’t a good habit to have.

Lucien: You’ve simply gathered demonic aura to try and deceive the five senses such that anyone affected will have their perception altered… like a dreamland.

Lucien: The reason I say “like” and not definitively is because this isn’t entirely created from Occult, but you’ve also used the Occulstone to amplify the power, right?

With every word Lucien spoke, the man in the cloak’s face turned paler and paler.

Lucien: Looking at your expression, it seems I’m not far off?

Man in Cloak: Who are you really… Eos’s report clearly said you’re just defective goods from an experiment…

Lucien: Defective goods?

Lucien laughed when he heard those two words.

Lucien: I’ve realised Your Excellence has another bad habit – that is, arbitrarily defining people.

Lucien: Defining MC as a vessel, defining me as defective goods.

Lucien: But have you considered, that even defective goods can use other methods find the path to success even faster than anyone else?

Man in Cloak: What do you mean?

Lucien quickly glanced at me with a trace of guilt hidden in his eyes.

Lucien: … sorry.

MC: Huh?

Before I knew why he was apologising, he took out a small wooden box.

The decorations on the box triggered my memory – it was the box I saw once before on Lucien’s shelf, the one with a piece of my Occulstone inside!

I watched with wide eyes as Lucien opened the box, but it was empty inside.

MC: My Occulstone fragment… where did it go?

I suddenly thought of the dream we had with our intertwined consciousness, and only then did I realise. Lucien’s cold voice also pierced through the void and entered my mind.

Lucien: What a coincidence, I’m also investigating the power of Occulstones.

Lucien: Since Your Excellence knows so much about Occulstones, I wonder if you can tell me more?

12-4

A long silence filled the cavern, only the enormous Occulstone continued to flicker.

The cloaked man’s face shone green and purple under the magnificent glow. It was a good while until he opened his mouth with clenched teeth.

Man in Cloak: … What right do you have for me to tell you about the QUEEN gene.

Lucien: How come you otherworldly people have different terminology for the Occulstone as well. It makes it a bit troublesome for me to understand. Oh well, it’s a trivial problem.

Lucien: I’m just curious, since you’re all so curious about the potential influence of the Occulstone on Westmoon, why not take a more direct approach?

Lucien: Why did you need to keep dragging it on for as long as possible, before using demonic aura and meteorological tricks to try and force the Occulstone’s host to make a choice.

Man in cloak: What do you mean?

Lucien: Exactly what I said.

Lucien: If it were me, I’d trap the host in a smaller space, and stimulate them more directly both mentally and physically.

Lucien: If she still couldn’t awaken, then I’d throw her into an even crueller environment. Right now this world… comparatively speaking, is still too peaceful.

Lucien: What do you think?

Man in Cloak: …

The cloaked man looked at Lucien with wide eyes and mouth agape as if looking at a terrifying monster.

At this moment, the two seemed to swap roles and Lucien seemed to be the higher being observing the world.

My heart thumped wildly next to Lucien and my back was full of cold sweat. A scary thought appeared in my mind.

… If Lucien wasn’t a Strangeling but someone from “that world”, then would he really do to me the kind of things he said he’d do?

Before I could think further, the cloaked man spoke up first.

Man in Cloak: Someone who knows nothing about the QUEEN gene dares to criticize me?

Man in Cloak: But with this I finally understand something…

Man in Cloak: No wonder Eos kept giving excuses and saying he couldn’t complete the experiment.

Man in Cloak: It’s because you stole and absorbed a fragment of the Occulstone from within the vessel!

Lucien didn’t comment, and instead raised his eyebrow and asked back.

Lucien: Have you never considered - what if I didn’t steal this fragment, but rather someone took the initiative to give it to me?

MC: …?!

Ever since I woke up, I’ve been looking for the Occulstone fragments and I’ve only told master… did this mean master gave it to Lucien?

But why would he do such a thing?

My breathing quickened and I subconsciously wanted to take half a step back, but Lucien held onto my hand and I couldn’t move. His palm was dry and warm bringing me a pacifying effect yet forcing me to see this to the end.

Lucien: After the demon and human war, the Oracle arrived in Westmoon and told everyone they needed a Sorceress to pray for blessings, creating this peace.

Lucien: A hundred years pass and the Oracle continues to select and nurture each Sorceress into a caged bird that only knows how to dance for blessings.

Lucien: However the quality of those Sorceresses were lacking, none could bear the power of the Occulstone.

Lucien: Hence making you all anxious… haha who knew that even the Gods of Westmoon are so impatient.

Lucien: Then MC appeared. She is what you call the perfect “vessel”.

Lucien’s voice was a calm as ever but every word he spoke was like a bloody knife.

MC: No... I’m not a vessel…!

I didn’t want to continue listening and forcefully shook my head. As my tears were about to overflow, Lucien pulled me into a hug.

Lucien: You’re not a vessel. You never were.

Lucien: Remember that dream? You can be a bird, a firefly, yourself…

Lucien: It’s because you have this desire, that I don’t want you to have the complete Occulstone.

Lucien: I made a deal with your master and got the fragment.

Hearing him speak beside my ear, I looked up in disbelief.

MC: What deal?

Lucien: To give you three years of good dreams.

Lucien gave a gentle smile, rubbed my head to soothe me and then looked back at the cloaked man.

Lucien: Does Your Excellence have any questions regarding my thoughts on the Occulstone?

Lucien: I can keep explaining for you.

Man in Cloak: Questions?

Faced with this humiliation, the cloaked man’s face twisted and he reached out his hand with a dense ball of light in his palm.

Man in Cloak: My question is, why didn’t I kill you the moment I saw you?

Lucien: Is that so? Now is not too late.

12-5 - Battle Stage

12-6 - Mostly common between routes

MC talks to Eos (Master) in the Black Cabin and learns the truth about Westmoon being an experiment for the QUEEN gene ie Occulstone

perhaps-in-anotherdream’s summarised the main points so I’ll just skip this and just add in the Lucien specific part of the convo~

...

Master: For example Lucien, if Occult never existed, his tragedy, Rarewoods tragedy may have never happened.

MC: I…

I bit my lower lip. What master said was too tempting, and was impossible not to be moved.

I thought of the three year long dream, the lonely silhouette in Rarewood, and the dreamland that was broken.

If it were Lucien, what would he choose?

Or… would he agree with the decision in my heart?

MC: Master.

I took a deep breath and slowly opened my mouth.

MC: What you just said was wrong. What caused the Rarewood tragedy was not Occult. But rather you overly arrogant otherworldly people and the greedy hearts of people who were intoxicated by power.

Master: …

MC: If I become the “God” you speak of, all I’m doing is taking over your positions.

MC: If I rewind everything to the beginning, we’ll only repeat the same cycle.

MC: The price was paid for Rarewood’s tragedy, and everyone should remember the price and make sure it never happens again.

...

END

The enormous Occulstone suddenly shattered into innumerable pieces, the moment light burst out, a ball of light appeared.

The ball of light separated Lucien and the girl, leaving him alone in the quiet abyss.

Lucien: …!

Lucien was only surprised for a moment, before his expression returned back to normal.

He went closer to the ball of light, his hand stroked the halo around it and muttered.

Lucien: It’s not made of Occult, and difficult to break open.

Lucien: … Is this the other world’s ability?

If it were in the past, facing such a mysterious and strong power would definitely arouse Lucien’s interest, but right now…

That broken Occulstone in his chest faintly throbbed, futilely resonating with its original owner through the ball of light.

Was she okay inside?

This tiny thought kept circling around his head, and made it very difficult for him to calm down and think about what to do next.

He knew from the beginning that she was extraordinarily special.

Not only could she change his fate, she could change the fate of the entire world.

That’s why when the Sorceress fell from the tower, and the Occulstone shattered, he threw away his own plans.

He was well aware he was being selfish. It was because of his selfishness that he pulled her into a three year long dream, using it as a way to understand her better.

And after she woke up, it would be easier lure her, get close to her, influence her and obtain a fragment.

But he already obtained a fragment and successfully resonated with it, so why did he still try to get closer with her?

Why?

Lucien: *sigh*…

Lucien closed his eyes and rested his forehead on the ball of light.

Lucien: Because in the end I truly am such a greedy and selfish person, what I want more than the Occulstone… is you.

At that moment, the broken Occulstone in his chest gave a violent jolt and a strong power flowed from his body.

The imperfect Occulstone could not withstand such a strong power, and the fox ears and fox tails that he was supressing slipped out…

If the power of the Occulstone could surpass everything, of course it could also defy all rules!

The ball of light couldn’t withstand the power, and suddenly split open. Specks of light drifted down like petals.

In the midst of that brilliance, the answer he always denied stood there.

Lucien: MC

The girl heard his voice and looked up towards him.

MC: Lu-

Before she could finish, she started to fall as if all her energy was spent. Lucien rushed over to catch her.

Lucien: You…

Lucien’s swallowed, it felt as if a thousand words were about to gush out of his throat. Eventually they all slowly receding like a tide, leaving only just one.

Lucien: … sorry.

The girl lightly blinked hearing those words.

MC: Lucien, this is the second time you’ve said sorry today.

Lucien: Sorry, the Occulstone…

MC: Do you regret it?

The girl interrupted his words.

Lucien pursed his lips. The girl looked at him with a clear gaze. He couldn’t lie to those eyes.

Lucien: … I don’t regret it. If this happened all over again, I would still take away your Occulstone fragment.

MC: Haha, I knew you would say that.

The girls breathing was very harsh, and just that small laugh seemed to take up all her strength. Lucien couldn’t help but tighten his embrace.

Lucien: What I regret is something else…

MC: What is it?

Lucien: I regret not telling you earlier about my bad intentions, not taking the opportunity to pull you into a pledge of love, exchange of vows, and firmly tying you to my side.

MC: Pft… you’re so bad and so frank, completely unlike that gentle and mysterious Mister Lucien right now.

MC: We still have time. The things we didn’t have time for and the things we regret, we can still make up for them.

She reached out her hand and gently rubbed Lucien’s fox ears and whispered.

MC: But right now I’m a bit tired. Wait until I wake up, then come tell me everything about yourself, okay…?

The moment all demonic aura disappeared from the world, a new world was formed in the girl’s long breath.

T/N: This is followed by an epilogue video about what happened in Westmoon afterwards! Laxmiree’s posted a subbed video here: https://twitter.com/i/status/1570429100208300037

#mlqc #mlqc lucien #so much precious lore #can i just say - i had a very similar theory for MS at one point #seeing it happen in westmoon au was satisfying :'D #id been hoping since day one that theyd directly link WM back to MS and im glad they did :'D #stuff i post #temporary terrible translations tag

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wesimpforxiao · 4 years ago

Text

Say My Name and I’ll Be There: Chapter 9.4

Xiao was sick to his stomach. The idea that Childe turning out to be an ally to the group disgusted him--and don't get him started on the thought of Zhongli possibly falling for that act a second time. It would be an understatement to say that he wanted nothing to do with that harbinger ever again. But of course he just had to deal with him for awhile longer, and it was for your sake only.

"You mean..." Aether was still processing Zhongli's confession alongside the yaksha. "You tricked us? Again?"

"You're just as bad as Childe if you lie this much!" Paimon huffed in obvious disappointment before poofing out of the conversation.

"Forgive me for not informing you sooner; I made a grave mistake for trusting him the first time, but I will not leave you in the dark for a second." The former archon bowed his head in a deep apology after revealing what really happened in Fontaine all those weeks ago.

"And you knew of this, Xiao?"

"He informed me in a dream while I was still unconscious."

"I-I'm still wrapping my head around this," uttered the boy. "And now Childe is making the same move again? What're you going to do?"

"I think it's time to make our final move." The archon eyed the couple of Fatui agents walking past their table, careful to keep his voice lower than usual.

"As much as I want to, you can't join us. You'd be breaking your own contract. Isn't that a problem?" Zhongli didn't answer, so the traveler then turned to Xiao. "What do you want to do?"

"I..." The yaksha averted his eyes. I want to rescue her, he thought. I want to, but if she's not in contact with me, she won't be affected by my karma. Zhongli noticed the sour expression on Xiao's face and piped up.

"We do not need to decide our move right at this moment. A situation so dire cannot be approached lightly."

"She should stay where she is," Xiao muttered under his breath after Aether and Paimon ran off to do some commissions.

..............

"Are you just gonna stare at me or what?"

You were sitting with your back against the far wall of an unfamiliar cell while your hands were carefully placed on your lap to avoid touching the scummy floors. On the other side of the cell bars stood what was probably the shortest of the eleven harbingers.

Scaramouche didn't answer you, electing to deepen his scowl instead. His glare fell to the vision at your hip like he was trying to understand why the Tsaritsa refused to give him the order to confiscate it. Your gaze followed his until the faint glinting of the vision's glass was all you could focus on.

Why didn't she take it this time?

And that wasn't the only thing that was different about your second imprisonment. Your cell was painted in what you assumed to be anti-adeptus sigils like Xiao's cell had been. Maybe this was to prevent you from calling for Xiao; the threat of his capture seemed to weigh heavily on your shoulders, but something about this cell felt off and you couldn't put your finger on it. Why take this precautionary measure if she knew you wouldn't call for the yaksha for his own safety?

That question was answered a little too-quickly for your liking. One of Scaramouche's underlings brought in what looked like a toolkit, only to reveal a plethora of presumed torture objects inside.

"Is this really appropriate for you, my Lord? We can take over from here; you don't need to participate in an activity that would insult y--"

The harbinger shot him a dangerous look. "I don't remember asking for your input. Get out."

"Y-yes, sir. Excuse me!" The guard doubled over in an apologetic bow before scrambling out of the prison as fast as he was able to. Then Scaramouche's glare returned to you as he reached into the bag.

....................

I'm gonna kill them all. I'm gonna kill them. They'll all fall at my hands.

A blood trail tailed behind you as Fatui guards escorted your weakened body into the frigid throne room for the third time this week. They threw you to the tile floor, while your vision clinked unhappily against the hard surface. She still hadn't bothered to remove it; it was like she was taunting you with the illusion of power, and she shot you down every time you thought you'd take her by surprise.

I'm going to kill her, Xiao.

The coldness of the unwelcoming floor seemed to welcome you into your repeating nightmare while the hot blood that pooled in your mouth dripped onto the surface. Unlike the other times you were dragged in here, Childe wasn't present. It was a shame that the one who so badly wanted to be involved in the brawl was about to miss out. The tapping of a fingernail against metal prompted you to push yourself up to your knees.

She'll fall at my hands.

"Bow before Her Majesty, the Tsaritsa."

You just coughed up more blood without obeying. Twitching fingers were the remnants of Scaramouche's torture.

"The perseverance of humans truly is something to witness," the cryo archon muttered in distain. She had run out of patience; you were nothing more than a nuisance if you refused to work with her any longer, and it was a miracle that she put up with you longer than she would with her own men. "Very well. You'll die here. Any last words?"

"Y-You threatened them."

"If you wish to be heard, speak up."

"You threatened them," your voice raised loud enough for everyone to hear despite the fact that your throat was sore from the amount of screaming Scaramouche managed to get out of you. A small groan left your lips as you forced yourself to your unsteady feet. Blood coated your lips and chin, and soaked into your tattered shirt. "You threatened my friends, you've threatened Xiao, and you're ultimately responsible for my Granny's death. Your crimes against us and the people of Teyvat will never be forgiven. What do you have to say for yourself?"

"Hm." A hint of a wry smile was quickly overshadowed by hatred and disgust. She had heard enough of your disrespect, and it was clear beating you into submission wasn't working.

You caught the subtle twitch in her hand before she flicked her wrist and hurled an attack in your direction. Defiant feet remained planted, and a counterattack almost as quick as the Tsaritsa's was thrown her way. You didn't feel the blast of her magic reek havoc against your body, but subconsciously heard the sound of shattering glass right before you initiated your counterattack.

The Tsaritsa waved off the guards that readied to restrain you while hiding the beginnings of fear from her face. She'd kill you herself. The temperature dropped lower and lower until the entire room froze over and your fingers began to go numb. Of course, this wasn't because of your magic; you could drop the temperature below zero, but this was on a completely different scale.

"You've earned your friends' deaths as well!" The archon raged and stood from her seat with the intent to kill you on the spot. Shards upon shards whirled around her before shooting at your frail exhausted figure. "Morax's yaksha will join you in death for your disobedience. Thus is the punishment for disrespecting the will of your master!"

"You will not harm anyone!"

BOOM! The palace walls shook violently as the force of a shockwave ran through them--with you at the epicenter. A brilliant light shone from your eyes for a split second, though it made no difference in your tunnel vision of determination. This time, you were the one to lower the temperature. A growing layer of frost enveloped your skin in a warm embrace. Your power was a mix of ice and stormy gales that tore through the throne room at a vicious speed, sending Fatui agents and harbingers alike running for cover as the palace became an unstable battlefield.

............

Two days before.

"What kind of a suicide mission is that?!" Xiao growled out to the open night air with frustration, though he knew you couldn't hear nor feel his response. "This recklessness will be the end of you!" He took a deep breath to regain his composure and his gaze fell to his hands, which were enveloped in the fine black mist that was his accumulated karma. He couldn't keep his thought process of protecting you from himself if you were practically asking to be killed by the cryo archon. He wouldn't let that happen no matter what risks his karma may bring.

Days of grueling torture unlike anything you've faced before haunted his ears. He could tell that you never meant to pray to him these past several days, but somewhere in your delirious state of mind, clouded by pain, you called his name. Not for him to come and rescue you, no. That was a trick you weren't going to fall for and he wasn't rescuing you out of respect for your wishes.

But hearing your cries, you sobs, was a torture method in and of itself to Xiao.

After the first three days your agony turned to resentment, then to rage. You plotted. You schemed. You planned until you settled on what was probably the dumbest 'solution' to your problems. And Xiao heard every word.

"FOOL!" Overcome with frustration yet again, Xiao impaled the nearest tree with his polearm. The winds whipped violently through its leaves until he let out another aggravated sigh. He looked down to Liyue Harbor and the sunrise that began to chase away the shadows. Yelling would result in nothing and it was immature of him to do so. He would go to Zhongli, and summon Aether. There was no time to waste.

............

What awaited them at Zapolyarny Palace was nothing short of stupefying. They were met with a stampede of shaken guards that were so disorganized and distraught, they didn't even notice that intruders had broken into the palace. The three of them exchanged knowing glances before Zhongli led the way to the throne room. It was then that a powerful shockwave--loud enough to be a sonic boom-- nearly threw them into the wall behind them as the doors flew open.

"You will not harm anyone," muffled words reached the ears of the intruders. "Not me, not Zhongli, not Aether, and certainly not Xiao!"

It took a moment for Xiao to process what he was looking at; the snowstorm that raged on was barely contained in the throne room, and white obscured the battle for the most part. He didn't need a clear image of you to pick up on your words.

A new light appeared above you and this time you caught sight of it. Six star-like objects lit up a similar color to Xiao's hair and connected to one another. You paid no mind to it, as it disappeared as quickly as it came. The storm grew violent, and much like your most recent confrontation with Childe, your power was harming yourself. Icicles shredded your worn-out garments. The wind turned so sharply that it bit into your skin.

"That shouldn't be possible," Zhongli's widened gaze lingered where those stars had appeared above your head.

"So you saw that too," Aether mumbled in bewilderment as he also stared at the same empty air. I thought the people of Teyvat needed Stella Fortuna to unlock their constellations? He snapped out of his daze quicker than Zhongli. "Let's go, we need to help her!"

Xiao blocked their advance with his polearm. "Wait."

"You think we should wait?" Paimon hissed. "She needs our help!"

The yaksha ignored their hesitance and kept his narrowed eyes on the blurry image of you in the distance. Rely on me. Call out my name. If he was allowing himself to be vulnerable with you now, risking your safety from his karma, then it was your turn to do the same. Call out my name, and I'll be there when you call.

"DIE!" The Tsaritsa waved her hand through the air and summoned a glade of ice that was meant to slice you in two.

"I won't succumb so easily!" A blast of wind erupted from your side, and it cut the ice in half before it could reach you.

Wind? Anemo? Zhongli sent a glance to Xiao's figure. Could this be...

You pushed off the ground with the aid of the wind, and a flurry of snow hurled towards the Tsaritsa. She shot shards through it, and they impaled the ceiling after clearing the fog. You weren't there.

The archon spun around and was met with the devilish amber eyes of an adeptus and the cocky grin of her weapon of war. This power--The wind kicked up the accumulated layers of snow from the floor and blocked her line of sight again. A sharp pain sliced through the backs of her knees, and she crumpled to the ground. The speed of your movements was unlike anything your friends have seen from you before.

You landed before her and relished the feeling of having a literal god kneeling at your feet. Maybe you weren't so unlike Childe after all; if this sight made you feel that good, then one could understand the harbinger's obsession with battle. The three friends behind you--who you had yet to notice--took note of the Childe-like expression on your face. You summoned your iced polearm. Or...tried to. A quick glance to your hand confirmed it was still empty despite your attempts. Instead, a cold breeze playfully weaved between your fingertips. Huh? Did I exhaust myself? I feel fine...

"Ha...haha...Hahahaha!" A wicked cackle sent chills down your spine, and you returned your attention to the god that was hunched before you. "You may have picked up on my Childe's arrogance, but you wield it like a weakness." You anticipated her next move from the growing of sheer cold, but with your current position, there was no way you'd be able to dodge it in time. She swung her arm out to you.

The name fell from your lips without thinking. "Xiao-!" WHOOSH! The blast of air knocked you onto your butt, and your vision cleared to view an unsettlingly-silent battlefield. For several seconds, the cyclone calmed.

"Tch." The sound of a struggle made you look up. There was your yaksha, neck-at-neck with the cryo archon. He held his polearm in a blocking position, and it rattled uncomfortably against the force of the ice sword that pushed against it. The pair were staring daggers at one another.

"Xiao!"

"Took you long enough. Leave the killing to me. Leave, now."

"There's no way I'm leaving you by yourself!" You pushed yourself to your feet and ran towards them.

Xiao picked up on the sound of your footsteps, and glanced back at you for a split second. "Get back!" He could almost feel the grin that spread on the god's face as you got closer. "Move!" Panicked, Xiao pushed back against the Tsaritsa before dashing through the air and pulling you with him just in time to avoid what would've been a devastating blow of the god's power.

The sharp movements made your stomach do a flip or two, but you didn't have time to puke. The Tsaritsa levitated towards the two of you, who were now standing side-by-side with Xiao's hand placed lightly between your shoulder blades. Your eyes met his, but you couldn't tell what he was thinking. Instead, you nodded in encouragement just in case he wasn't on-board with you still being here with him.

The yaksha seemed to understand on some level, and nodded back before returning his eyes to the god above you. "Now."

#xiao x reader #genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin impact xiao #xiao genshin impact #xiao fanfiction #genshin fanfiction #wesimpforxiao #say my name and ill be there

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sisterspooky1013 · 3 years ago

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Only One Choice, Part 2, Chapter 8

Read it here on AO3 / Tagging @today-in-fic

Saturday at 5:00, she’s standing outside Mulder’s apartment door. When he’d proposed watching a movie, she questioned whether that was the best idea. She doesn’t have any particular reason for trying to hold off on things getting more physical, other than the lingering subconscious belief that nice girls don’t take their pants off before there’s a ring on their finger. That’s never a policy she’s stuck to in the past, but it still feels like they should wait a bit. Maybe it’s what happened before, their previous indiscretion, that makes her feel compelled to take things slow. Regardless of the motivation, spending time alone at one of their apartments is a surefire way to end up ditching her plans, along with her clothes.

Speaking of clothes, she’s worn jeans and a T-shirt, decidedly more casual than their last date. She’s also put on a black lace bra and matching boy short panties underneath, just in case. She has no intention of Mulder seeing her underwear, but on the off chance she changes her mind, she’d hate for him to see her granny panties. She also shaved her legs and her bikini line, just in case. Taking a deep breath and promising herself she will exercise exceptional self control, she knocks.

When he answers, she instantly feels her resolve falter. He’s wearing jeans and a white T shirt, bare feet, and a beaming smile. He immediately steps forward and slips his arms around her waist, pulling her close and kissing her like she’s just returned from sea. He smells clean and masculine, the stubble on his chin scraping her cheek and summoning a groan from her throat, which she successfully stifles. Finally he pulls back, looking at her with soft, affectionate eyes.

“Hey,” he says with a little smirk, and she smiles at him like they’ve just shared a secret.

“Hi,” she replies, resting her palms on his upper arms.

“Sorry to accost you before you’ve even gotten inside,” he says sheepishly, his arms still wrapped around her, “I’ve been waiting all week to do that.”

She chuckles and he releases her, slipping his hand into hers and leading her into the living room. When they enter, Priscilla stands from her place on the couch and arches her back with a meow, then paces excitedly with her eyes trained on Scully.

“Hi Priscilla,” she greets the cat, sitting on the couch where Priscilla climbs right into her lap and starts purring noisily. Scully laughs and runs her hand from Priscilla’s head down to her tail, smiling as the cat closes her eyes contentedly and drool drips from the corner of her mouth.

“She missed you,” Mulder says as he looks on, smiling with his hands crossed over his chest. “She doesn’t drool for just anyone.”

“I missed her too,” Scully says to Priscilla, then turns to look at Mulder with a soft smile. “I missed both of you.”

They hold eye contact for a beat, then he looks away, walking towards the kitchen. “I was just going to order pizza, if that’s okay.”

“Sounds perfect,” she replies, looking around. Not much has changed since she was last here, though he’s hung a couple new things up on the walls.

“What do you like on your pizza?” he calls from the kitchen.

“Surprise me,” she replies. She’s not a very picky eater and can’t think of any topping that would be a dealbreaker.

“I like your style,” he says in response, and she can hear the smile in his voice.

There is the muffled sound of him calling the order in, then he returns with a beer in each hand.

“I rented two movies,” he says as he sits down close beside her, their thighs touching. “Take your pick between Twister, or Mars Attacks.”

“I saw Twister in the theater when it came out, but I can’t say that I’ve seen, nor did I ever intend to see, Mars Attacks,” she replies with a knowing smile, taking the open beer he holds out to her.

“You gotta see it, Scully, it’s an instant classic,” he says with a tone that she can’t pin down as facetious or not.

“I guess we better watch it then,” she says with an equally ambiguous tone.

———

Six empty beer bottles are lined up along the far end of the coffee table, a pizza box sitting open in front of them. Mulder is lying with his head propped up on the arm rest of the couch, one foot on the floor and the other stretched out in front of him. Scully is lying on her stomach against his chest, her cheek resting on his pectoral and her arms wrapped around his rib cage. It was a slow progression towards them ending up fully entwined like this, her belly pressed against his groin, and he has one eye on the TV and the rest of his attention concentrated on not getting hard.

The movie, which is even more campy and stupid than he remembered, is nearly over, and he hopes she doesn’t hop up and leave right away. Looking down over the crown of her autumnal head and along the narrow expanse of her back, he sees a sliver of skin exposed between her jeans and T-shirt and his cock stirs. He slides the hand that had been resting in the middle of her back lower until his fingertips meet with her bare skin and she shifts a tiny bit, but not uncomfortably. Slowly, causally, while keeping his eyes on the screen, he begins to trace his fingers in slow circles on her lower back. Her skin is unbelievably soft, supple and warm. As his movements continue, he increases the size of his circles, inching her T-shirt up higher to expose more skin, and she pulls in a deep breath and holds it for a moment before she lets it out slowly, concluding with a sound that’s almost like a hiss. She shifts again and her stomach rubs against the swelling lump of his erection, pronounced enough now that she may be able to feel it. He dips the tips of his fingers under the waist of her jeans, running them from one hip to the other, and she lifts her head, propping her chin on his chest and looking up at him. Her expression is unreadable; she definitely isn’t upset, but she’s not smiling, either.

“Your skin is so soft,” he offers, as though it were an excuse for why he’s touching her, as though it would not be enough to say he’s doing it simply because he wants to.

She shimmies up until they’re nose to nose, the friction sending a jolt to his groin, and he resists the urge to thrust up against her.

“I moisturize,” she says plainly, her breath hot against his lips smelling like hops and garlic.

She drags her lips over his softly, side to side, then kisses him fully with a contented sigh. His hands find the small of her back and push up underneath her T-shirt, sliding over more of that silky softness, and he does thrust up against her, though gently.

They kiss slowly, in no rush, his hands cupping her ass and gliding down her sides, up into her hair and then back again. Her own arms are tucked up underneath her, propping her up as she kisses him, though she shifts her pelvis against his erection gratuitously, not in any way pretending that it’s not intentional.

“Mmmmm, Mulder,” she hums into his mouth, flicking at his tongue with her own and then sucking on his lower lip.

“Hmm?” he asks in response, gripping her ass and pulling her firmly against his groin as he pushes it against her.

“I don’t think we should have sex. Not yet,” she croons into his ear, pulling the lobe between her teeth gently.

“Okay, of course, whatever you’re comfortable with,” he answers back with a pained groan, his body not on the same page as his brain. “If you want to stop, let’s stop.”

“I didn’t say I wanted to stop,” she replies, kissing down the side of his neck until she comes to the place where it meets his shoulder. “I just said I don’t want to have sex. There are a lot of things we can do that aren’t sex.” She slips her arm free from beneath her torso, snaking it down between them and rubbing it firmly over his aching hard-on.

“Jesus Christ,” he hisses, flexing his hips wildly as he seeks more contact.

She brings her lips back to meet his, peppering small kisses as she strokes him over his jeans.

“How about,” she begins breathily, “one of us keeps our clothes on.”

“Okay,” he responds, sliding his hands around her hips to find the button of her jeans.

She laughs a little and sits up on her knees between his thighs, just out of reach.

“I was thinking maybe I would keep my clothes on,” she says in a playful tone, though her expression is bashful.

“Oh,” he answers dumbly, trying to piece together what she’s saying. When her hands go to the fly of his jeans he sits up. “Wait, one second, why me?”

She tilts her head with a curious furrowed brow. “This may be the first time in recorded history that a man has objected to receiving rather than giving.”

He cocks his own head at her, mirroring her confusion. “I think you’ve been hanging around the wrong men.”

After a beat, they both break out into ironic smiles, realizing what they are arguing over. She leans forward, crawling up to kiss him.

“If we were keeping score, which we are not, I would say I owe you one, Mulder.”

No matter that it was nine months ago, she’s referring to the one and only other time they’ve done more than kiss. She’s not wrong, but he doesn’t care. He loves making women come; it’s practically a hobby.

He wants to object, but she already has his fly open, her tiny hand slipping underneath his boxers and gliding down the length of him. He groans and she kisses him again, stroking him slowly in the narrow space beneath his stiff jeans. She sits up and tugs at the waistband and he lifts his hips to help her before pulling his T-Shirt off over his head. Within fifteen seconds he’s naked, his ass sinking into the warmed leather of the couch and Scully’s hot little hand cradling his balls.

“Can you take your shirt off?” he asks hopefully, “is that allowed?”

She smiles at him. “Let me consult the commissioner,” she says, then glances up and to the side. “Commissioner says yes,” she finishes, pulling her shirt over her head and revealing a black lace bra, her modest breasts pushed up deliciously within its cups. He feels his cock lurch in response and he reaches up to pull her on top of him, deftly unhooking the clasp and chucking the bra across the room.

She sits up again, perched between his thighs topless, and lazily slides her hand up and down over his length. He stares slack jawed at her pale pink nipples, hardened into rose buds in the cool air of the room, and she gives him a devilish little grin before bending at the waist and taking him in her mouth. The wet heat of her is sudden and jarring, so overwhelming that he closes his eyes against the flashes of white hot pleasure as his hips buck uncontrollably.

She plants her palms on his hip bones to hold him steady and moves up and down at a slow pace, her tongue sliding along the underside of his cock until the head is at her lips, where she swirls it around in a circular motion that makes him see stars. He opens his eyes, watching her through the curtain of her hair as his shaft disappears into her hot little mouth, the pink peaks of her nipples becoming visible at regular intervals. She tilts her chin up slightly and looks at him, meeting his eye before she lowers herself further than she had before, and he feels his head hit the soft flesh at the back of her throat before he slips just a little further, pressing into her pharynx. He stiffens and groans, the sensation different and somehow explicit, like he’s somewhere he’s not supposed to be. His hands hover near the sides of her head, gripping at air as he resists the urge to touch her, to control her movements. When one of them brushes against her scalp, she reaches up and takes it, pressing it into her hair and granting permission. He threads his other hand into her tresses and lets them glide with her as she moves up and down. Her fingernails scrape gently over the papery skin of his scrotum and he feels a tightening, coiling sensation that means he’s close. He lets his head fall back and enjoys the incredible feeling of her tongue hot and wet, her lips firm, her hands gentle. When he’s approaching the point of release, he lifts his head and whispers hoarsely, “Scully, I’m gonna come,” and removes his hands from her head so she can pull away.

She does not pull away.

Instead, she doubles her efforts, sliding up and down fast and firm, squeezing his balls gently and sucking hard on the upstrokes. Wanting to make sure she still has the opportunity to pull away, he tells her again, “fuck, I’m coming,” and she keeps right on pace as an explosion echoes from his balls through his cock, waves of release stealing his breath as he goes rigid and then falls apart in a cascade of expletives, returning his hands to grab a fistful of her hair as she swallows him down, slowing but continuing her movements until he’s soft and no longer throbbing.

She crawls up his body, gently resting against him with her chin on his chest, her breasts pressed against his bare skin, and waits for him to return to Earth. Finally, he settles his gaze on her, on those earnest blue eyes and that pink mouth that he now knows holds the secrets of the universe. He feels like he could cry, so instead he makes a lame joke.

“Did it hurt?” he asks, running his hands over her bare back.

She gives him a quizzical but amused expression. “The blow job?” she asks incredulously.

“No, when you fell from Heaven.”

She rolls her eyes and suppresses a smile as Priscilla springs unannounced from the floor and lands right on Scully’s jeans-clad ass, kneading the flesh a little before curling up for a snooze.

Scully laughs gently, not wanting to disturb the cat. “Is this a thing cats do?” she asks amusedly.

“Not really, you just have a great ass, I can’t hardly blame her,” he responds, and she smiles at the compliment. “You can’t leave now, we’re stuck like this,” he adds. “Priscilla can sleep forever, we may die here.”

Scully shrugs, sighing contentedly. “But what a way to go.”

#the x files #txf #dana scully #fox mulder #gillovny #msr #sculder #x files fanfic #alternate universe

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bluebuckstallion · 3 years ago

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the sun will rise again - mlp fic p2

part one contents: aj and big mac are like. 13 and 15. big mac realizes she is a trans woman, and is guided by applejack, but there is much more to it than just that lol. its also a little hard for her. sappy, feel-good, tough internal conflict but overall happy fic. paragraph one is previewed here, the rest is below the cut! disclaimer: there is no transphobia in this fic lmao im not gonna write abt horse transphobia. this is a feel good. but cw for fear of outing (note: i am aware my blog makes posts a little hard to read bc of a glitch, i am trying to fix it at the moment, i apologize D: i rec reading it on tumblr mobile or highlighting the words as you read, im sorry!) paragraph one: The wind whispered lovingly, cooling little Big Mac and Applejack's drowsy heads. A time like this in a young pony's life can be very confusing, something the two of them had grown to be very familiar with. Applejack rested his backside against the trunk of one of his family's old apple trees, if they had no where else to take solace, at least they had the orchard and each other's company, he thought. It felt nice, having this little secret kept safe by somepony you knew would protect it, and who still cared about you just the same. "If nopony accepts us, at least we have each other. I don't care if it's just you and me, Big Mac, we'll be jus' fine." Applejack stated in a soft voice, breaking the silence. He was accepting of his circumstances, no matter how they turned out. As long as him and his sister ended up okay. And again, he was sure they would. Big Mac smiled and folded her hooves neatly, "Eeyup."

Applejack worked his fluffy hooves through Big Mac's mane, doing his absolute best to make the fine ginger hair into a braid. He wanted to do something nice for his sister, something to celebrate her bravery and courage in realizing - and telling - Applejack, and he wanted her to feel nice in her own body, even if she couldn't change much right now, or for a while. No matter how small the act, Big Mac was especially grateful. Nobody had ever treated her like this, on purpose at least, like she was a mare. And every chance Applejack could sieze he would do just that, remind her that was what, *who* she was. "So, Big Mac, what do you reckon I call you now?" With that her eyes widened, and her brows furrowed, it caught her off guard. "Like...my name? I didn't know I could change my name..." she let out, slightly confused, a tender hoof raising to her chin as she thought hard. "Yeah!" AJ beamed, not straying from his tedious work. Big Mac, still lying down, started shuffling her hooves again. "Well... I always thought if I were a girl my name would be something pretty, which I mean, I am a girl and all, but I don't feel very pretty ever," she admitted disheartened. "You're plenty pretty! You're an Apple! You wouldn't say Ma or Granny wasn't pretty, would you?" Applejack pointed out, gesturing absentmindedly in the air with his hooves, then promptly returning back to his work, being sure to keep a steady hoof. "Well... Nope." Big Mac blurted awkwardly, pursing her lips. "But-" she began. "No 'but's'!" Applejack interjected, "You're an Apple, and a dang pretty one!" Applejack closed his eyes and lifted his head proudly, putting his non-dominant hoof against his puffed chest, "Look at me, I'm an Apple and I'd say I'm awful handsome, just like Pa!" he said with an endearing foal-like passion and certainty. He chuckled, his cheeks growing slightly cherry as he let out a tiny chuckle, and got back to his work, about a quarter way down the locks. Big Mac grinned slightly, "I suppose," and tapped her hooves together shyly, playing with the grass falling between them. "You know, I always did think my mane was a little long for a stallion," she laughed playfully, diverting from the subject and trying to reassure herself. She went to touch her mane, and was swiftly batted away by Applejack's quick hoof, "Nuh-uh Big Mac, I'm workin' here. Don't go touchin' it now," he said sternly but still non-maliciously. He just wanted it to look perfect for his big sister, he wanted her to be proud, and feel as pretty as she could. Applejack wanted to know how it felt to look pretty, too, but in the way he'd always dreamed of. He wondered often if he'd ever get the blessing of such a wonderful feeling. "Applejack, do you ever wish you were born a colt?" Big mac asked genuinely, still a little unsure of what Applejack was feeling, but knowing there was solidarity in it somewhere, she just had to understand it a little more. "Well - not really," Applejack spat out, his eyes looking away from his busy hooves, and quickly darting back to them before he drifted off in fantasy. He thought about it for a second, and still felt strange. "I wasn't really born a filly or a colt... or anything, I think, I was just born me. And I wouldn't really have it any other way. Sure, I mean, maybe I'd like shorter hair or somethin', or a uh," he struggled to find the words in his young foal vocabulary, "maybe if my nose was a little more colt-ish I'd be happy. But I think I'm pretty happy with me now. I do hope when I'm older my voice is a little better, though. I can't really do much though," he sighed dismissively. He continued, "I don't ever really feel too bad about who I am... I think I just feel happy about who I am. When I see myself as not a colt and not a filly, just a foal, a pony, it makes me real happy-like. But, I don't get too sad unless people are real serious about calling me a filly. I do get sad sometimes though, when I look too much like a filly to other people..." As Applejack placed an orchard blossom in Big Mac's hair, tucked snug and safe behind her ear, a thought went through Big Mac's head. "Applejack!" she jumped up, the rush of movement startling him, who was so concentrated seconds prior. "Let's give you a haircut! It'll be like how you braided my hair for me, we can cut yours!" Applejack nervously rubbed his elbow, then raising his hoof lightly beneath his muzzle, and he began to sweat. "Well, I, what if Ma and Pa don't like it?" Big Mac thought hard as Applejack grimaced, "Well, we can hide it with one of Pa's hats, an' I'm sure they won't mind," she suggested happily. Applejack considered briefly, just for a moment, the downsides of it all. He then immediately turned them all away and smiled so hard his eyes shut, stomping his front hooves against the ground up and down, "Okay, let's do it Big Mac!" As they galloped back to the barn, Applejack had suddenly realized he was so surprised with how much Big Mac had been talking, she never seemed so excited to talk about anything, and he realized how much this all meant to her. It meant a lot to him, too. Especially that his sister was so supportive while still knowing so little, but in her defense, he didn't know much either. It was a very special feeling, he thought to himself, very pleased. They skidded to a halt clumsily as they reached the doors to the barn. Foal-ishly peeking through the front windows, they realized it was only Granny and baby Bloom home, their parents must be out. They looked at each other, grinning, and cantered to the back, sneaking inside through the back door. When they made it to the bathroom, Applejack noted Big Mac looked a little worn out, wearing a tired look on her face. She figured all this chattiness probably made her sister a little exhausted. He shot a reassuring patended Sibling glance at her telling her all she needed to know, not needing words. Big Mac let out a gentle smile. She helped her little brother reach the cabinet above the sink, reaching the scissors that were so high up it took them both working together to reach. Applejack had a slight doubt in his mind, his parents probably didn't want him touching the scissors by himself, did they? But he had his big sister with him, and it had to be done! Nopony else would, and only they understood. Applejack balanced shakily with two hooves on Big Mac's back, warily reaching one back hoof up onto the sink, as he balanced with his two front hooves against the edge of the cabinet. He grasped the scissors between his teeth, and brashly jumped down, just barely missing a potential accident, even though they both knew better than to jump around with scissors, they threw caution to the wind regardless. Applejack happily put his front hooves on the rim of the sink, tapping them and bopping his little head, he looked at his big sister, who began working at his hair. Big Mac chopped with a great lack of care, playfully snipping one strand then the next. Applejack beamed the whole time, simply happy to have it happen, plan or not. Big Mac frequently spun around him, balancing on three hooves and sometimes getting in so close that she held his face with one hoof, his hair with another, and cut with the scissors firm in her mouth. Applejack's body relaxed completely and was kicking and rearing with every cut, wiggling and happily holding his front hooves together and constantly swishing his head from side to side to check how it looked, one side fell to his muzzle, and the other to his chin. He smiled bigger than ever before. With the final snip, Big Mac dropped the scissors carelessly to the tile below. She gently grasped Applejack's chin and turned her sibling's head forward to face the mirror, and his mouth immediately fell agape, his jaw slack, and his eyes slowly widening with the purest joy there ever was. He cupped his hooves to his mouth, removing them, turning his head to the side, and then fixing himself and putting his hooves to his open mouth once again. He felt a soft tug in his throat and his chest, and he couldn't control the watering in his eyes, "Big Mac!!" his voice cracked. "Yes Applejack?" the filly said apprehensively, fearing that she had done something wrong. "Oh Big Mac, oh my gosh I love it so so much!!" He bucked and whinnied, spinning in circles, his once-flowing tail too short to trip over now, and the euphoria of it all was the most overwhelming emotion little Applejack had ever felt. The tugging became so immense he couldn't ignore it, and he acknowledged it by leaping onto Big Mac with a hearty hug, squeezing her tight as his little arms could, and he rubbed his muzzle into her neck. Big Mac politely pushed her hoof between her neck and AJ's hoof, making sure he didn't squeeze too tight, struggling slightly to breathe. This foal was definitely a strong one. "Thank you so much big sis!!! I feel so great!!" he neighed, stepping back, one hoof raised wiping his immense wave of tears. The feeling of euphoria shot through his body in a rush, showing itself in the form of a tiny but powerful hop, as he lifted his legs into the air and threw them around. Applejack rushed back to the mirror, urging Big Mac to come look as well, as she didn't quite see herself yet with her hair "done all proper-like." Big Mac's face became pale, as she felt the rush of a thousand different emotions. The paranoia became astounding again, what if she didn't like how she looked as a filly? What if she still didn't feel right? What if it wasn't - Her thoughts were abruptly cut short by Applejack tugging her over, knowing her sister just sometimes needed a push in the right direction. "Lookie Big Mac!!" he placed his arm cheerfully around her, wrapping it over her back. Big Mac's eyes were glued shut, and she only bashfully peeked one eye open because curiosity would've ate her alive otherwise, and deep down she knew she had to see herself eventually. She uncovered her hoof from her eye, and opened both of them slowly. Her mouth opened ever so slightly, and she wasn't even aware she had stopped breathing, her eyes fluttered up and down the braided locks, along with her heart, and her eyes landed on the blossom in her ear. She couldn't speak, her throat clogged up from such elation. She felt the choking once again, but it wasn't like before, this feeling was quite welcoming actually. It rushed from her throat up to her head, and took her breath away. The sobbing ebbed at her cheeks right away, and she turned to look at her brother. As they spoke with lack of words, they stared with inordinate graditude. As Big Mac smoothly turned back to the mirror, Applejack stomped all his hooves again, one after the other with no apparent order or care, shaking his head in a frenzy as his ears twitched and he smiled a mile wide. He finally felt *pretty.* Big Mac watched herself adoringly, for the first time ever, and felt this acceptance and understanding of herself coursing through her veins with a confidence she'd never had. She blushed, and her ears fell downward, a small smile creeping onto her face. "Applejack," she whispered softly, as if she were too worried the world would hear her secrets. Applejack peered closer with wide, curious eyes, "Yeah Big Mac?" he whispered back. "My name.." she mumbled. Applejack raised his eyebrows, captivated, as Big Mac slowly lifted her hoof to the blossom behind her ear. "Blossom?" Applejack stated inquisitively, before Big Mac could shake her head AJ corrected himself, "Orchard Blossom!" he exlaimed, leaning back and jumping in the air, "Oh big sis, that's so pretty!! I love it so much!!" Orchard Blossom nervously gestured for him to keep it down, as he was prone to being unaware of his volume control. Applejack embarassedly covered his mouth with a shy smile, "Oops, sorry big sis." he cleared his throat, "Orchard Blossom!!" he yell-whispered, the excitement shining through him, he stamped his tiny hooves and clapped them together in celebration. "That's so pretty, Orchard Blossom!" Applejack told her earnestly, loving the new name. "I don't think I want a new name, but I'm really happy ya found one you like!" "Orchard Blossom, Orchard Blossom, Orchard Blossom!" Applejack repeated, playfully prancing in circles, excited by the sight of his short tail, he spun even faster. "What's all that commotion in there? Applejack? Big Mac? Are ya in there?" they heard through the shut door, hoofsteps gradually approaching, painstakingly slow but steady. Both of them felt their hearts drop from their chest as they froze, unable to even fathom moving. How would they explain any of this? Applejack hurried to clean up desperately, brushing the hair together with his hooves, coldly sweating from his brow as he frantically hurried to remove any evidence. He stopped mid-sweep to quickly shove his father's hat on his head, which slumped immediately and blocked his vision. "Oh dangit Blossom, Pa's hat's too big! I can't see!!" Orchard Blossom was still unmoving, sheer panic stopping her very breaths. Applejack felt the tugging in his throat rise up again as he began whimpering.

#applejack mlp #big mac mlp #mlp fanfic #mlp fic #mlp writing #mlp au #mlp #applejack #big mac #trans applejack #trans big mac #my little pony #lesbian applejack #lesbian big mac #orchard blossom #trans au #the sun will rise again

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audreeyporter · 3 years ago

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FIRST TIME TRYING FAN FIC SO PLEASE BE KIND LOLZ

sorry it’s pretty long ahha

(fluff sabrina and puck)

(pucks pov)

(15 yrs old after war ended)

(pucks journal)

I would always look forward to seeing her. whenever i came back with Uncle Jake, i would rush him out of his favorite fast food place. But today was different. I felt weird about seeing her. I still hadn’t kissed her since that time we were in my room with my chimps. Everytime i wanted to, something got it the way.

The first time i visited, we were sitting on the couch while Jake, The Old Lady, Canis, Henry, Veronica, Daphne, and Red were all in the dining room. We were watching a dumb old movie on the new tv Daphne had convinced The Old Lady to invest in. We were talking and then I kind of just looked at her. She looked at me in the same way and I started to lean, but then Henry came over to offer us cookies and it just got awkward. Every other time was similar with someone just interrupting us. About a week ago i was so happy when Jake told me we were visiting them again. I mean i brush my teeth and actually shower for this girl. That means a lot. But then I got a text from Daphne, who has been helping me try to kiss her for the past 3 years.

She said that Sabrina kissed someone else the other night. I dropped my phone. I couldn’t believe it. But i should. I was gone and Sabrina had a lot of guys on her tail. Who was I to believe she would actually wait for me. Over the next week I was quiet. Jake would often ask me if i’m fine and I would just respond,” yeah i’m good” with a forced smile. But finally the day came that i was dreading for. The day we go back to see them. I tried to get Jake to stop at every place I saw until finally, at the fast food place, Jake asked me,” Puck for real what’s wrong with you.

You are always so excited and basically pushing me out the door to go to my moms. But this time you are acting like that’s the last place on earth you want to be going.” I stood silent. I didn’t know what to say to him. “ Did something happen with Brina?” I sighed.,” Yeah. Daphne told me she kissed someone the other day. And now i feel like i’m stupid. I actually believed that she would wait for me. And now i don’t want to have to see her knowing she’s kissed someone else and probably likes another guy” It was a relief to get all of that off my chest. I looked at Jake and saw him looking straight at me with somber eyes.,” Puck. I know how hard young love is. You want everything to work out smoothly but it never does. There are always gonna be some potholes on the road. But you have to get out of the car and get it out. Soon you’ll be driving smoothly.” “ Did you seriously just use a metaphor” Jake smiled,” Of course. I know you can do this Puck. I know Sabrina loves you. I would always catch her looking at you in a way i looked at Briar.” Jake stopped. I knew it still pained him to think of her. “ I know she still loves you and always will. So go get ‘em tiger” I smirked.

After Jakes little pep talk, I was feeling great. I mean come on, Sabrina would never turn down a freaking fairy for some dorky human. I got up and laughed as i pushed Jake out of the restaurant.Jake complained as I shoved him out the door.

( Sabrina’s point of view)

( Her journal)

I was anxious. I hadn’t seen pick in nearly a year and I missed him dearly. But as a thought of Puck, my thoughts drifted to Bradley. I had been talking to him. I thought he saw me as a friend too and I was glad to have a guy friend. But then the kiss happened. It was soft. I immediately pulled away and feelings of regret clouded my mind. I pushed bradley away and walked off. I was angry. He had kissed me without even consent or a hint of me wanting to. I called Granny to come pick me up and cried to her about what happened. I wanted Puck but i had betrayed him by letting Bradley kiss me. Granny comforted me and said it would all

be alright. A week later It was the day Puck came to visit. I was shaky and nervous. I had to tell him what happened. Daphne walked in and gave me a hug whispering,” You’ll be fine” An hour later a knock at the door came. I went to answer it. When i opened it i saw Puck and Uncle Jake. I stood shocked. Puck looked even better than I had expected. He had fluffy blonde hair that was clearly clean. He had on a Forest green hoodie and black sweatpants. He was wearing spoon rings and he had nike blazers on. And his face. Oh my Gosh his face. He looked perfect. His green eyes had the same light to them. His eyebrows wear neat, his lips looked soft and nice. I stood in the door for nearly a minute. He looked so handsome. He was looking at me in the same expression. I was wearing a white cropped tank top with a grey jacket and baggy jeans. I had finally figured out how to do my hair and makeup and all of that. Finally Jake said,” You gonna let us in?” I blushed and backed away letting them walk

in. Puck had his hands in his pockets. I hugged Uncle Jake and went to give puck a hug and he obliged stiffly. I then went to the kitchen and everyone else greeted them. I saw Daphne drag Puck aside and whisper something in his ear. I sat on the couch watching the news. I was shaking. Puck seemed so bland. Like he was mad at me. We had dinner and instead of sitting next to me he sat by Jake and Red on the other side of the table. I could feel tears welling up in my eyes. Puck wouldn’t even look at me. I finally couldn’t take it and asked to be excused. I ran up into my room and sobbed. Puck must know. He must know. I wish bradley had never kissed me. I want Puck. Only

Puck. After about 15 minutes a sat up and wiped my eyes as i heard a soft knock on the door. I said,”come in.”

Puck walked in. I averted my eyes. He shut the door behind him and sat next to me on the bed.,” Sabrina i’m sorry. Daphne told me the full story and i-“ “It’s not your fault. i should have never even let it happen.” Puck stared at me and then said,” it’s ok. i know that’s part of growing up. But i missed you. and I love you. I’ve loved you

since you pushed me in the pool. I’ve never thought you were ugly and i’ve always wanted what’s best for you. you are absolutely perfect in every way.” Puck turned away embarrassed. I put my finger on his chin and turned his face forwards me. Then i kissed him. It was a long sweet kiss. When i pulled away puck laughed and said,” i’ve been meaning to do that for 4 years” I smiled and said,” me too. and I love you too. I always have no matter how hard i tried to convince myself you were a ugly disgusting swamp rat” Puck smiled and kissed me again. I wrapped my arms around his neck and he put his

on my waist. It was perfect. His lips were soft and his breath smelled like mint. We pulled away quickly as we heard the door open to daphne and red standing outside. “FINALLY YESSSS” they both shouted. Me and puck laughed at each other. I realized that I the person i could spend my life with and not complain. I had a fairytale.

#puckabrina #sisters grimm #puck #sabrina grimm #puck goodfellow

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magalidragon · 4 years ago

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n°7 - “Is there some space left in that bathtub?”

In the “Heat Wave” universe, pretty please!😊

YES! Love these beans! 🔥🔥🔥 And because I also got another ask for this same universe, I’ve combined it into one Drabblish-ish (2700 words, not 2500, lol). And THANK YOU FOR THE MOODBOARD DARLING! Enjoy!

Smutty One Liner Prompts

7. “Is there some space left in that bathtub?”

10. “Jealousy seems to be a great motivator for you.”

Bliss, that's what this was, Dany thought, her eyes still closed, her breathing even, and her skin tingly and warm. She sighed, exhaling out any worry she might continue to have—there was no more worry now that she was out of the Hell House and living in Heaven's Hall—her body nestled in a soft, fluffy mattress with thick quilt and soft flannel sheets covering her. She smiled, serene, and opened her eyes slowly, peering up at a set of red eyes, watching her.

She smiled wider, quirking an eyebrow up. "That's really creepy Ghost."

Ghost said nothing, licked his chops, and then her face, and hopped away from his nighttime stalking. She chuckled, sitting up on her elbows, glancing at three faces underneath one of the throw blankets over the bed, all of her little dragons purring contentedly, no doubt thankful she had relocated them completely. She wiggled her toes, returning feeling to them, and scanned the room, which was empty.

The snow had eventually stopped, the wind fading away, and now the sun was out, but to her surprise, she must have slept through most of the day. Bloody cold, she cursed inwardly, for she never got sick. She had slept most of the last couple of days, interspersed with coughing fits, cranky moments of letting Jon take her temperature and pour soup and tea down her throat, and the occasional "I am not sick, so you can totally fuck me, I promise I won't pass out" debates. He had refused, tucking her into the big bed in his room, saying that she was his patient now, and one did not take advantage that way.

"You're too honorable for your own good," she bitched, the last time she'd tried to suggest a little nookie.

"Sue me."

"Hmm, I might."

He simply kissed her nose, told her she was adorable with her pouting, and she fell asleep before she could reply, cursing her body for succumbing to this strange Southern cold during this strange Southern storm.

It was almost sundown; the light fading overtop the trees cocooning the house on the mountainside. She blinked at the reflection of the snowy treetops in the huge windows and felt good. Good enough to get out of bed, she figured, sliding free of the sheets, the huge Night's Watch hoodie falling over her hips to her knees and sleeves over her fingertips. She shuffled in her thick wool socks—also stolen from Jon—to the bathroom, flicking on the light and taking stock of her reflection.

Her nose was chapped from blowing into Kleenex, her eyes slightly blood-shot, and her hair was a nest of epic proportions, she wondered if there was a dragon living in it. She scrubbed her cheek with her palm, shaking her head, and glanced at Ghost, who looked up at her curiously. "Do you think I'm sexy Ghost?" She put on a fake pose, thrusting her hip to the side, pretending to look cute in the oversized sweatshirt and nothing else.

Ghost did not indicate one way or the other. He just wandered off towards the sunken tub, hoping into it and then put his paws on the other side, tail wagging and gazing out the floor-to-ceiling windows. She wandered over, sitting on the edge, and followed his gaze, smiling down at Jon, who was moving firewood from the deck into the house. She scratched Ghost's head. "Thank you for keeping me company, I'm sure you'd rather be with him."

She ran her fingers as best through her hair as she could, wincing at tangles. "Ugh." A shower was necessary. She shivered; it was still chilly, even with the heat returning, the pipes back to working order.

Somewhere in the bedroom, her phone dinged. She left Ghost to his watch, getting off the bathtub edge and went to pick it up from the nightstand, staring at the email notification from Tyrion Lannister.

Thank you for your message, Lannister Properties is currently closed due to significant weather activity, we will respond in due time. She scoffed, opened up one of the emails that had been sent immediately after and saw that indeed, Tyrion had replied.

Ms. Targaryen, I was sorry to see your negative review of our property. As you know, significant weather activity is possible, and while we cannot compensate you for any destruction caused by Acts of the Gods, we would like to offer you a 20 percent discount on your next Lannister Property rental. A Lannister always pays their debts, and we would like to no longer be in debt to you! Thank you, Tyrion P.S. Our insurance investigator will survey the property damage and be in touch regarding your payment options.

Her mouth dropped. "Fuck you!" she shouted at the email. She would definitely be handling this stupid little lion herself. After drafting a very strongly worded email with tons of legal jargon she hoped would have the Lannister quaking in his boots, she dropped her phone, a muscle twitching somewhere in her shoulder. She rubbed at it, scowling at the dragons, who were watching her from where they now were seated on her pillow. She shook her head. "Fucking Lannisters."

At least she had Jon, she figured, and picked up her phone again, sending a quick message to Missandei. Despite the weather, the plague, and the shitty rental, I'm feeling much better now.

Her phone buzzed almost immediately. She smirked at her BFF's reply: Yes, I've heard endless banging can do that to a person.

After saying that she was not endless banging Jon-- they'd had to take a break because of the plague after all-- she put the phone on silent, charged it up, and then padded back into the bathroom, because now she well and truly needed a hot, long, relaxing shower....or...maybe...

Her eyes landed on the tub. It had been used just to store water those first couple days without power, but a week later....she swished her lips around and decided. She deserved a soak. Just like she wanted when she first saw it. She leaned over and tugged on the taps, letting the hot water pour in, steam instantly rising. It was rather deep, like a small pond, and she puttered about looking for some candles, finding a few in another bedroom and even some bath salts. They smelled divine, lavender and eucalyptus, perfect for relaxing and also shaking loose any remaining crap in her nose from the cold.

She watched the bubbles foam, fluffy and cloudlike, almost resembling the snow that pillowed along the windowsills outside. The sun had fully disappeared behind the trees, the stars peeking out. It was rather breathtaking, maybe even something she might have seen if she'd been up at the Wall with Missandei and Grey instead of down in Dorne, when she had planned to just watch sunsets over red sand dunes and mountains. Go figure, she was getting the North and she didn't even pay for it.

Stripping out of her hoodie and her granny panties— Jon had thankfully not continued to make fun of her for their use while she was sick—she slipped into the tub, hissing at the first touch of the hot water on her skin, and then moaning in delight, her dragonblood positively singing. Her brothers jokingly referred to her as "the Unburnt" because for whatever reason she did not feel pain with heat. Barely even flinched when fire flicked her fingertips as she loaded the fireplace with wood, to Jon's shock.

It was straight out of the Heavens of Valyria, she thought, sinking fully under the foamy bubbles, the lavender soothing her dry skin, the eucalyptus filling her lungs, crisp and healing. She reached to adjust her knotty hair, piled on her head, and closed her eyes, groaning happily the deeper she sunk into the tub. The lights off, the candles all around her, it was how she wouldn't mind spending another power outage.

Ghost was not one to leave her out, his head on the edge of the tub, accepting wet scratches now and then on his head. She chuckled, opening an eye to peer at him. "If you want in here, you're welcome to it, but I'm not dealing with that wet dog smell later."

He huffed, annoyed.

The only thing truly missing, she realized, after an undetermined amount of time later, was some music, a glass of wine, and a very attractive, very sexy, very naked Jon Snow.

"Well look at you."

Eyes springing open, she turned her head sideways, spotting Jon leaning against the door frame. His sweaty curls slicked at his neck and temples, his t-shirt and sweats damp from the snow and exertion of moving all the firewood around. In his hands, he had a bottle of beer and a glass of wine. She smirked. "Which one is for me?"

"Which one do you prefer?"

"Gimme."

He already knew her, handing her the Dornish red, while he sipped at the Northern ale. He glanced at Ghost, who was scowling up at him. "What? I'm not giving you a bath."

"Am I in his tub?"

"Yes, he likes baths."

"Your dog is very weird Jon Snow."

"Don't I know it." His eyes darkened, the candlelight shooting off the gray irises in sparks, his lip curling over his teeth in a wry smile. "In fact, I have to say, I'm a little upset with you."

She smirked, flicking some bubbles at him. "Oh yeah?"

"Aye, you're sharing bathtime with my dog and not me."

Ghost stuck his nose into the bubbles, blowing them up into the air and snatching them with his teeth, until some went up his nose and he sneezed, rubbing his nose into the rug. She sat up, peering over the edge of the tub, laughing. "Oh Ghostie! You alright prumia?"

The Valyrian for 'my heart' had begun slipping easily when it came to the fluffy dog, who whined, rubbed his nose with his paw, and accepted her kisses, even if some of the water dripped from her arms and shoulders when she leaned over to reach him. She fell back into the tub, once Ghost had finished with her, and wandered off, the door banging shut after him. She frowned, about to ask, but Jon answered the unspoken question.

"Aye, he closed the door. He also likes giving people privacy."

As he had kept to himself, hiding off away from them during those couple nights on the floor in front of the fireplace, she had to thank the dog for that. She smirked up at Jon, who looked a bit annoyed, and was toeing off his socks, the beer now on the edge of the tub. She sipped he wine, surveying him appreciatively, the black t-shirt falling to the floor. She purred, recognizing the gleaming lust in his eyes. "Who knew jealousy was such a powerful motivator for you?"

"Jealous?" he scoffed. "No way."

"Hmm." She disagreed.

“Is there some space left in that bathtub?”

When she opened her eyes, she found that he was naked, the sweatpants joining the t-shirt and his socks. She licked her lips, shifting and gestured; there was more than enough room. She smirked at him, as he stepped in and yelped. “Careful, it’s hot,” she cooed. Gathering some bubbles, she piled them in front of her, annoyed that they shielded her favorite part of him from her gaze. She had an ulterior motive of course, for hiding her body from him, smirking as he scowled back at her, no doubt mad he couldn’t see beyond the lavender scented shield.

He sank back into the tub, his head popping over the side, leaning on the other edge and his feet sliding along her legs, before they stopped on either side of her arse. She slipped her leg along his, the salts and soaps giving her skin an added slickness. He narrowed his eyes on hers and she smiled, innocent, as her foot moved over his calf, his thigh, and then pressed between them, her brows arching. “Hmm,” she murmured. “Such…hard work out there.”

“Uh-huh.”

“I was alone in bed when I woke up,” she continued. She sniffed, hoping her voice didn’t have the added thickness to it from her cold. She was trying to be sexy, scooping up a handful of bubbles and blowing them towards him.

A little pillow of bubbles landed on his head and he smiled, eyebrow lifting. “Cute.”

“You do look cute.”

“I don’t usually like baths.” He flicked some bubbles away from her chest, scowling again at them. “They’re blocking the view.”

“Well that’s too bad.”

“It really is. Makes things…inaccessible too.”

“And what are those?” Her foot was still sliding along his cock, her toes tickling along the hard, thick length, and suddenly it fell to the side, as he lunged towards her, a wolf with its prey. Water splashed around them, bubbles everywhere, and before she knew it, his arms were around her thighs, hoisting her up to the edge of the tub, and splaying her legs out. A wicked grin shot up at her, his sinful lips twisted, and eyes black. She cried out, before she even knew what was happening, and he tugged her forward, arms wrapped around her legs, which fell over his shoulders, and he dove down.

The first thing she felt was his tongue, spearing straight into her. “Fuck!” she screamed, clenching around his head and grabbing at his wet curls. She moaned, long and low, her head falling backwards, smacking against the foggy windowpane. She kept a hand on his hair and her other fell back as well, grappling for something to hold, and eventually found the edge of the window itself, holding tight to the wooden frame.

He feasted like a man starved, his tongue slipping in and around her folds, which had already been damp at the sight of him and had grown increasingly slick with her need for him as he teased her and stripped in front of her. She panted, Valyrian babbling with “Jon” and “fuck” and “yes”, everything he did in response to her body’s craving. His tongue was pure magic, lips suckling here and there, and his hand breaking free of her leg to slip between them, a single thick finger sliding inside, crooking at just the right angle to find the spot inside of her that had her whining, high-pitched, desperate to come.

Flicking his tongue around her entrance, he gathered up her wetness with it and carried it to her clit, nibbling and sucking the little bud, alternating between giving it the attention she wanted and sliding it back into her, a second finger now joining the first. He let go of her other thigh, since she was holding herself up and his other hand pressed above her pubic bone, at the exact moment his fingers pressed to that magic spot, the pressure too much for her to bear.

She was coming, the flame already flickering, and stoked higher and higher. She gripped his hair so tight; she almost tore it clean from his skull, and when her eyes pried open long enough to meet his, that devious, devilish look that told her he knew exactly what he was doing, she couldn’t take it. It shattered her, the flame exploding into thousands of tiny ones, engulfing her.

Hand falling off the window, smearing finger tracks down the condensation, she thrust her hips aimlessly into his mouth, her body clenching, spasming around him. He carried on, careful of her sensitivity, and kept moving, fingers slipping along, this thumb tapping and circling, and tongue angling through, drinking up her sweetness. She came again, her body quivering, exhausted.

It all felt so good, so fuzzy, and she slipped back into the tub, water splashing out over the edges, her head almost falling straight under the top of the still steaming water. He caught her, turning so she was draped over his chest, the bubbles fading away around them. His cock was still hard, pressed between his abdomen and hers, and she lifted her hips enough to trap him there, teasing her and him both. “Soon,” she sighed, eyes closed. “Give me a minute.”

He brushed his lips over top her hairline, damp now with sweat. “Feeling better?”

Rising over him as best she could, at the awkward angle, bathwater and bubbles still coating her skin, she reached her hand around his head to pull his mouth to hers, groaning at the taste of herself she still felt on his tongue. “Oh Jon, you have no idea how good I feel now.”

“Glad to hear it.”

#jonerys #jonerys au #jonerys drabbles #smutty drables #smutty jonerys #my fics #Erika's gorgeous moodboards!

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emospritelet · 4 years ago

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Heatstroke - chapter 15

Bad Darcy!

[AO3] - 1,469 words

Lacey’s new peace with Gold made no real difference to her life, other than that she could pass him in the diner or on the street and not want to hurl herself into the sun. He was polite but distant whenever they met, and a part of her was disappointed that the coffee and cake in the back of his shop hadn’t led to a reciprocal offer from him. Ruby said that he never went out drinking, so looking around for him as she downed rum and coke in The Rabbit Hole was a pointless exercise. Which didn’t stop her doing it.

“Just march into the shop, unzip his pants and get on your knees,” suggested Ruby, waving her drink around as she gestured and making it slosh dangerously in the glass. “You know you want to.”

“I do n��” Lacey closed her eyes with a sigh. “Okay, maybe I do, but I’m not going to.”

“Come on, what do you have to lose?”

“My liberty, when he presses charges for sexual assault...”

“I swear.” Ruby shook her head sadly. “I’m just gonna have to shut you two in the store room at the diner and let you bang it out.”

“...and you get charged with false imprisonment.” Lacey shrugged, reaching for her drink. “At least I’ll have company in jail.”

“Fine, just carry on pining then,” sighed Ruby, sitting back.

“I am not pining.”

“You are too.”

“Wondering whether someone’s good in the sack is not pining.”

“What would you call it then?”

Lacey pursed her lips, pondering.

“Curiosity,” she said eventually. “There’s something about him. Something that gives me that good, low-down feeling, you know?”

Ruby took a drink, setting down her glass and leaning on the table with a wide grin on her face.

“So,” she said. “What do you think he’s like in the sack?”

“I dunno.” Lacey wrinkled her nose as she thought. “He’s really - careful - with his hands. And he has long fingers, did you notice?”

“No.”

“Well, he does,” said Lacey, shifting in her seat. “I think he’d be good.”

“He never dates,” said Ruby. “He’s gotta be out of practice.”

“It’s not like you forget how, right?”

“I guess.”

“Besides,” added Lacey. “Every guy I’ve been with has been a selfish ass who couldn’t make a woman come if their lives depended on it.”

“Fair point.” Ruby took another drink. “So, what are you gonna do?”

“Nothing…” Lacey groaned the word and let her head roll back. “It’s not like anything would ever happen. I reached out and I was forgiven but that’s as far as it goes. He’s not interested.”

“You don’t know that,” said Ruby fairly. “Maybe you should just ask him out.”

“No way.”

“Don’t be a weenie.”

“I flashed his son!”

“Yeah, and you apologised for that,” said Ruby. She suddenly looked thoughtful. “Maybe I should speak to Neal.”

“Don’t you dare!”

“Okay, okay!”

Ruby was grinning, but she took another sip of her drink, setting down the glass.

“Let’s move the subject away from Sex-God Gold,” she said. “You working on anything cool for the paper?”

“If you consider the Storybrooke Flower Show cool, then yes.” Lacey stabbed at the ice in her drink with a straw. “It’s the last event before Zelena’s charity dance.”

“You going to the dance?”

“Only because Sidney managed to get me in to cover it,” she said. “Not sure Zelena wanted me there, but screw her.”

“Granny and I are helping with the catering,” said Ruby. “Zelena wanted something a bit more high-brow than we’re used to, so we’re putting on our fancy pants and making canapés.”

“Guess I’ll see you there, then,” said Lacey.

“You should ask Gold for a dance,” said Ruby, with a grin. “A little slow dancing, a little smoochy-smoochy and then maybe a little heavy petting in the mansion gardens.”

“Oh my God…”

“Don’t tell me you haven’t thought about it.”

Lacey opened her mouth, closed it again, and took a drink while Ruby cackled loudly.

“Knew it.”

“Even if that was true,” said Lacey loftily. “He’s not going.”

“Really?”

“So he told Zelena, and given I’ve never seen the guy out socially, I guess it’s true.”

“Oh.” Ruby slumped in her chair a little. “Back to Plan B, then.”

“There is no Plan B,” said Lacey sternly. “Plan A ended in total humiliation. I’m done with plans as far as Gold’s concerned.”

“Hmm.” Ruby looked unconvinced. “We’ll see.”

The next morning Lacey was feeling a little thick-headed, and was relieved when she remembered it was Saturday. She was tempted to laze in bed with a book for another hour or so, but she was parched, she wanted coffee, and Darcy would need his breakfast. Grumbling to herself about the fact that she and Ruby were a bad influence on each other, she threw back the covers and got up to grab her robe.

Darcy was nowhere to be seen when she got downstairs, and Lacey opened the door to the back porch before going to put on a pot of coffee. She glanced out of the window as she was getting out the milk, and frowned curiously as she spotted Darcy in the middle of the patch of lawn that she still hadn’t gotten around to tidying up. He was on his back, feet in the air and tail lashing as he played with something long and black. A snake? Fuck!

Lacey almost dropped the milk on the counter and dashed out of the back door in a trice, leaping down the porch steps and across the lawn, where she drew a stop, shoulders slumping as realised that the thing Darcy was playing with wasn’t a live snake. It wasn’t even a dead snake. It was, however, a black silk tie.

Darcy had paused in his wriggling as she had approached, and gazed up at her with a mischievous glint in his green eyes. He was purring, his tail twitching against the yellowing grass, the length of black silk lying across his belly with both ends in the dirt.

“Oh man…” Lacey shook her head. “Really?”

She snatched up the tie, whisking it out of the way of a grasping paw and spreading it between her hands.

“How did you even get this?” she demanded. “You raiding Gold’s wardrobe now, you little sneak-thief?”

She inspected the tie, biting her lip in dismay as she saw the dirt coating it, and the tiny silk threads pulled loose. The logo on the back announced that it was Armani, and Lacey wanted to groan.

“You’re killing me,” she said flatly. “I bet this thing cost more than my best shoes.”

Darcy wriggled, paws swatting at the air, and Lacey heaved a sigh as she glanced at the pink house next door. Great. Think this might take more than a coffee and muffin to make up for.

She glanced down at herself, noting that she was in a short nightdress and robe and very little else. Okay, I am definitely putting on clothes before I go over there. Gold can wait until I’ve had my coffee before he loses his shit.

Her head jerked around as she heard her phone ringing in the kitchen, and she wagged a finger at Darcy before trotting back into the house. She smirked as she saw the name on her phone screen, and flicked at it with her thumb to answer.

“Jefferson,” she said. “What have you got for me?”

“Straight to business, as usual,” sighed Jefferson. “Here I was thinking you were gonna whisper sweet nothings to me for a little while.”

“Stop flirting, you know you don’t mean it.”

“When has that ever stopped me?”

Lacey chuckled, dropping the tie on the counter as she reached for a cup.

“True enough, I guess.”

“So how are things in Bumfuck, Nowhere?” asked Jefferson, and she rolled her eyes.

“It’s called Storybrooke, and it’s a town. It’s not the back end of beyond, it’s bigger than you think.”

“Bet you can’t get pizza after eleven pm.”

“That is not the mark of civilisation, Jefferson.”

“I beg to differ.”

Lacey sighed, amused.

“Do you have information for me or not?” she asked. “Come on, spill, I got shit to do.”

“Okay French, buckle up,” he said briskly. “The not-so-lovely Miss West has had her finger in a number of questionable pies in this town, and your boy has a few secrets to spill.”

Lacey grinned.

“Okay, hang on, let me get my notebook.”

She rummaged in her purse, fishing out her notebook and pencil and flopping into one of the kitchen chairs.

“You owe me a drink, by the way,” added Jefferson.

“You can collect if you ever visit me in Bumfuck - uh, I mean Storybrooke,” said Lacey impatiently. “Now come on, spill!”

#fic: heatstroke #golden lace fic #golden lace #rumbelle fic #rumbelle #my fic

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hitsuhinahappiness · 3 years ago

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Scar Map - All Sewn Up Chapter 2

The halls of Shin’ō academy were noisy and filled with the voices of its students, socializing before class, grabbing their books, their pads, their swords, and their fighting equipment. Although the area was crowded and loud, one voice rang out louder than the rest, at least to Toshiro Hitsugaya.

He sat near the window, waiting for one of his Kido classes to begin. Hitsugaya watched his longtime-friend chat with a male student, one with dark brown hair and bright green eyes. He first felt something was off about him when he had snaked his way behind her storage locker and surprised her when she slammed it shut. Toshiro would have lost interest and assumed it was a friend of hers playing a prank, but then he heard her yelp in surprise. That peaked his attention. Hinamori was nice enough to the guy, but she didn’t seem like she wanted to engage him any longer, assuming she had a class of her own to go to or an instructor to see. The bold brown-haired boy didn’t seem to catch the hint.

“I’ll tell ya what, I’m throwing a party at my parents’ place. They’re off on some mission in the world of the living. Gonna have lots of sake! Eh? Whaddya say?”

“You know, that sounds like so much fun, but I’ve got a lot of studying to catch up on, so thank you for the invitation, but I’ll have to take a raincheck.” She responds politely, then attempts to walk to her next destination, but is once again halted in her tracks by the boy, who slid in front of her as she tried to step away.

“I don’t think you understand,” He says, narrowing his eyes. “My name is Tajima Yoshiyuki. Both of my parents are full-fledged soul reapers. I’m kind of a big deal around here.” He points his thumb towards his chest and continues.

“I’m gonna be the one carrying on their legacy. In fact, I even plan to surpass them both and become a full-fledged captain of the Thirteen Court Guard Squads.” Yoshiyuki crosses his arms over his chest, closes his eyes and states smugly,

“You don’t just say "no" to me. What have you got to lose? So far, you’re a nobody--AGH--!”

The arrogant man was unable to finish before Toshiro grabbed him by the back of the neck and twisted his arm behind him. He slammed Tajima up against the wooden lockers with a solid ‘THUD’.

“I believe she politely declined your invitation,” Hitsugaya said to him in a low growl, pinning his arm further up against his back to force a sharp 'CRACK' from his bones.

“GAHAA--!” Tajima screams.

“Maybe you should learn how to take a hint!” The silver-haired boy exclaims as he pulls Yoshiyuki back by the collar of his uniform, spins him around, twists to the side to put all his weight on one foot, then pounds his other full force into the already regretful boy’s back, sending him flying into some chairs.

Toshiro is left holding his right fist out in front of him as Yoshiyuki stumbles and slips as he tries to get up onto his feet and finally scurry away.

“Same temper, same old Shiro.” Momo chimes in behind him. His shoulders relax from their tensed state and he glances back at her.

“It’s been a while! Look at how much you’ve grown!” The pig-tailed girl exclaimed.

He turns and before he’s able to reprimand her, she’s practically on top of him, her arms around his neck, hugging him tightly. He settles on letting her have this one and relaxes in her arms, after all, she did just get harassed by some strange, wolvish student in the hall.

I’ll have to have a chat with the headmaster about Mr. - … what did he say his name was?

Hitsugaya blushes as Momo buries her face into his shoulder.

“Thank you for coming to my rescue, Shiro, although,” Momo begins, as she lifts her head to meet his shining emerald eyes and places a palm on her hip, the other still slung around his shoulder.

“I could have handled him myself.” He smiles ever so slightly back at her.

“I know that, stupid. I just wanted the assholes here to know that you’ve got someone in your corner who isn’t as polite and kind as you manage to be. Don’t get me wrong, Momo, you’re strong, but you’re a pushover, same as always!” He begins to brush her off of him, and Hinamori pouts.

“You can’t let them treat you like that. You’re better than them. You know that. Can’t you feel the energy growing inside you?” He says to her, now holding her shoulders and staring into her chocolate eyes.

Hinamori sighs and nods.

“So… you’re going to be a soul reaper now, huh?” She says as a smirk creeps onto her lips.

“Kinda lame, don’tcha think?” She prods, elbowing him in the ribs. Toshiro crosses his arms and closes his eyes with a hmph.

“Yeah, yeah, I know…” He sighs.

She knows there’s something on his mind, so she waits patiently, even as others pass to get to class. Toshiro continues when all the students flood into their respective classrooms and the hall is vacant save for the two of them. His eyes are cast anywhere but her face to avoid showing emotion.

“Granny wasn’t doing well when I left her.” He admits. Momo’s eyes become wide and filled with worry.

“As it turns out, I’ve been… suffocating her with my… immense spiritual pressure. I wake up every morning and the room is just… coated in a layer of ice... I suppose I didn’t have any other choice than to come here and learn to control the powers inside me.” Hinamori nods, and once again, draws him back into a hug. Normally, he’d resist, but right about now, Hitsugaya realized she was just what he needed.

“You made the right decision.” She tells him before lowering her voice and saying, “I really missed you.” His eyes widened a bit, he had never heard her sound so… wanton. He shakes it off, just happy to be in her orbit once again, and rests his hand on her head, hugging her back.

“Yeah, I guess I kinda missed you too.”

They both chuckle softly, seemingly lost in a world of their own. Toshiro allows her to rest her head against him for a few more moments before slowly taking a step back and taking a hold of her shoulders again. He can tell she’s exhausted, that she’s been training extra hard lately in preparation for their final exams, which, unbeknownst to her, he’d be taking the exams alongside her as a prodigy student who was able to skip a few years due to his raw talent.

“You need to know,” He takes on a more earnest tone.

“If you’re ever in trouble, I’m going to do everything in my ability to help you. I won’t ever leave you alone or let anyone hurt you, okay?” Hitsugaya looks deep into her eyes, a serious and concerned expression on his face. She frowns at him a little and uses her thumbs to try and smooth out his eyebrows.

“Okay… the same goes for you, you know… you’re so serious, Shiro. Lighten up a little.”

I’m sure that’s what you’d tell me right about now.

“Lighten up, Toshiro.”

The things I’d do to hear your voice again… and yet, how am I supposed to face you? I’ve let you down. I wasn’t strong enough to protect you. How can I tell her that her idol and mentor has left for good? And that he is now our sworn enemy?

He walked out of the meeting hall to see Rangiku waiting for him, her back against the wall and her arms crossed over her chest. She looked up when she heard the doors open and her eyes glistened.

“Oh, Captaaaain~What took you so looong~” She sang, skipping towards him.

“Matsumoto,” He started, striding up to her.

“I need your help with something... “ He looked around and spoke to her quietly.

“Are you willing to break some rules?” He asked. Rangiku froze, narrowing her eyes at him. Her captain raised an eyebrow back at her.

“... Well?” He badgered when she didn’t answer.

“You? Break the rules?” Her serious expression couldn’t have held up another five seconds before she started to break down in hysterical laughter. Toshiro rolled his eyes.

“You--AHAHAHAHAHAH, y-you want me… to help YOU--” Before she could finish and incriminate the both of them, he slapped his hand over her mouth. She stopped laughing.

“Come on. Not here.” He said frigidly, flash-stepping out of sight.

Rangiku sighed.

“This damn boy..”

A/N: I hope you all enjoyed the second chapter! As always, constructive criticism is never not welcome. Let me know what you all think so far!Sorry the italics are weird, I tried to only italicize one word at a time, but it won't let me! Strange. I know I'm doing this code things right! I think..

#HitsuHina #Toshiro Hitsugaya #Momo Hinamori #Bleach #Bleach Anime #Bleach Manga #fanfic

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jojo-reader-hell · 4 years ago

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oh! speaking of the wolf fic that anon was talking about, would you make a part 2 for that? maybe they finally caught the little wolf pup and she gets to meet the rest of the wolf clan of her family. it'd be to cute to see a wolf as massive as the jojo's be around such a smol bean XP

Ask and ye shall receive... like, months later 😂 sorry it took so long, hope you’ll enjoy!

...

“Bunny, don’t you remember your Papa Jojo? I used to hold you and feed you your bottle. Remember? We would cuddle with your blankie and your stuffed rabbit.”

“No! Leave me alone!”

You’re currently wedged into a tight space under an old tree root system. It’s a painful fit, but you’re not going to come out for anything. Especially not with the blue black muzzle of the large wolf at the entrance, currently trying to coax you out of your hiding place. The muzzle is peppered with grey hairs, and a very deep familiar voice emits from the shiny white fanged mouth in a rumble. When you yap at him to go away he whimpers, pushing his nose further into the tight space as he tries to dig you out. It only succeeds in making you press tightly against the root wall behind you, entire body shaking and muscles aching from the twisted position you’re contorted into.

“Bunny please!” He whines.

“Help! Help! Monster! Mama help!” Your barking almost sounds desperate, like you’re being tortured and it makes the bigger wolf howl in frustration, his digging more frantic as he tries to get you out.

“Jojo stop it! You’re scaring the baby!”

A sweet voice barks away the large wolf from digging, taken over by a cream pair of paws even lighter than your mother’s coloration.

“Stop digging. You’re only going to scare the baby even more.” A soft voice admonishes the beast and makes him whine in submission.

“But look how far they are, all the way in the back, what if my Bunny becomes trapped forev-...”

“Shhh... let me try.”

Another muzzle visible next to that of the blue black wolf appears, and a sweet voice tries to beckon you out. Both the newcomer’s scents confuse you, because even though they have that canine whiff about them you can still smell an underlying note that’s definitely more human than anything. It’s a clean smell, just like the Castile soap your mother often uses to clean the laundry because of Jotaro’s sensitive skin. Totally not the comforting patchouli scent of your mother nor is it Jotaro’s stinky musk, so even though it’s a good smell, you don’t have any positive connections to it. It’s foreign and scary, and you begin to whine for your mother.

“Baby, come to your Mama Erina.” the sweet voice coos to you. “Come on out my darling, don’t be frightened. We’re your family and we all are here to help you.”

You’re completely silent, wide eyed as you see her soft blue eye peer through the entrance. Never in your life have you seen something as big as she is (Good Lord, she’s even bigger than your mother!), her cream colored fur is almost white with age. Her mouth rests in an almost human like smile, and her black nose moves as though she’s taking in your scent.

“Come on darling.” She says, extending a paw as though you’ll take it. “Come to me. Come to your Mama Erina who loves you.”

Whoever she is, she most certainly is NOT your Mama. You can see her deeply pigmented gums and threatening pearly white fangs as she talks, and this only cements your stubborn refusal as you duck further into your crevice.

It’s not long before more voices join in, words intermingling with howling and snarling.

“Mother? Mother?! Did you find them?”

“Granny! I looked everywhere and couldn’t find the baby!”

“Jojo, Georgie, come here. I found them.”

Vaguely, you hear the familiar voice of your grandpa Joseph, a wheeze evident in his voice as he’s had a hard time catching up with the rest of the cacophony of paws. You can hear your mother too, conversing with your brother who is grumbling about having to follow you all the way out here and abandon the meal your grandpa had brought for you.

“My Bunny...” moans the blue black wolf in despair.

“Oh land sake’s Jojo stop it.” Scolds the white wolf.

“Mama Erina, maybe I should try getting them out?” Holly is most certainly worried, there’s a tinge to her voice that almost coaxes you to her, but you won’t stir a stump if everyone else is out there.

“You can try, but I’m not sure there’s a way with everyone crowding.” Erina from the sounds of things is still trying to console the one calling you Bunny (you suppose he’s called Jonathan because that’s what they keep saying when they comfort him).

Your mother tries to help, unfortunately compared to the others she’s got stumpy paws that won’t quite reach you, and even though she’s calling and calling for you telling you it’s alright, you won’t move.

“Papa, do you think you’ll have any more luck coaxing out the baby?” She finally sighs.

“‘Course I can! I guarantee I can make my baby pop right out of there like a cork from a bottle!”

“You be careful with my Bunny!” It’s the blue black wolf again, Jonathan, reluctantly moving aside to allow your grandpa access to you.

It was quite surreal to see your once human grandfather as a wolf, Grandpa Joseph’s pelt is much the same as his regular hair color, a deep hickory peppered with the beginning signs of gray. He grunts with the effort of laying down on the forest floor. When he exhales a whoosh of air, his scent completely fills the little space. Wonderful, memorable with the musk of his deodorant and leaving a sweet after smell, sugary like the cola he likes to drink with you on hot days.

“Come on baby. Grandpa’s here.” Joseph coaxes out to you softly.

“Vieni qui vita mia... Granny is here for you too.”

You hear the sweet soft dulcet tones of your granny Suzie using that almost crying tone of voice, that kind she used to use when you were a little kid and you hurt yourself.

“Granny?”

Your high pitched voice strikes a nerve among the creatures present, and you see another cream colored snout press into the entrance. Immediately you recognize the scent. It’s your grandma Suzie Q! You know her smell anywhere: a heady cloud of White Diamonds perfume with just a touch of amaretto.

“Will you come out for me? Please baby? It’s alright. Granny won’t let anyone hurt you.”

You’re almost ready to come out, slowly wedging your way to the entrance where your grandparents soothe you out little by little. But the minute you push your head through the tiny opening you know something is wrong. You scream in your puppy voice, afraid that now you can’t get out as everyone moves in all at once.

“Stay still.”

A deep feminine voice barks out a command, the approach of a brown wolf silenced all of you into submission. She sniffs around you, noticing your little paw that’s caught in a root and nudging it with her muzzle. Her teeth are unnervingly close, you’re unsure if her exposed teeth are a threat display. Her smell is almost indistinguishable from the damp forest soil, completely odorless and lacking the canine whiff, but there’s an underlying musk of pine sap emitting from her pelt that is all too familiar. A memory threatens: being cuddled to a bare chest in midwinter, chapped lips grazing your cheek as you doze off lazily. It’s not your mother who held you during that time. It was the strong human form of the wolf before you, formidable in such a way that suggests her humanity is just as feral as when she is a wolf.

“Move your paw this way.” She commands and nudges at the same time.

You’re so frightened you obey automatically. Not even stopping when she takes you by the scruff in her mouth and helps to yank you out from your prison. You expect her teeth to hurt, but your skin is so pliable on the back of your neck you hardly feel a thing as she pulls you free and into her furry stomach. With her paw, she presses you to the softness of her underbelly, a long wet tongue lathing along the sides of your face as the shewolf begins to clean you meticulously.

You suddenly know her now... so many more memories of her and what had to have been her mate keeping you warm between the two of them as you reached for their faces. The memories are soothing, coming back fast and as if they’ve always been there, just like the memory of your mother laying you on a massive man’s chest, his blue black hair wild and unkempt as he lifts you up to kiss you. Or the memory of another woman with your Granny Suzie, the two of them swaddling you up and hardly able to contain their soft giggles as they place a small hat on your head.

Another wolf, this one nearly a carbon copy of your grandpa, laths at your face with his tongue, telling you in a deep baritone that he’s your great grandpa George and he’s so happy to see you again. Holly approaches and begins naming the ones you don’t recognize in the group, each one submissive when they press against her to get to you. You’re even comfortable enough to allow the wolf that calls himself your Papa Jonathan to shower you in his dog kisses, tail wagging a mile a minute as he squeals about how much he’s missed you, and how he’s got an important gift to give you so you won’t ever get lost again. His mate, your Mama Erina, rubs her head against yours, tail swishing politely as she praises you for how you’ve grown up so wonderfully. All the while everyone crowds around into a big pile of swishing tails, whines, kisses, and reassurances that your big, warm, happy family will help take care of you as you navigate this scary situation.

It’s the one who helped you out, your great Granny Lisa Lisa, that breaks wolf form to place your Papa Jonathan’s old collar around your neck, the little bell makes such a pleasant sound as she flicks it gently.

“For next time.” She advises, “That way when you try to run, you’ll know I’ll grab you by the collar.”

Everyone laughs, adding in how Holly should keep you on a leash, and you’re so overwhelmingly happy you can’t help but to join in the laughter with them.

It’s nice, you decide, to belong to such an unusual family.

#jojo’s bizzare adventure #jojo’s bizarre adventure stardust crusaders #jojo’s bizarre adventure phantom blood #jojo's bizarre adventure battle tendency #lisa lisa jojo #elizabeth joestar #george joestar ii #jonathan joestar #erina pendleton joestar #holly kujo #joseph joestar #suzie q #jotaro kujo #jjba reader insert #werewolf!reader #werewolf au #nobody dies everyone lives

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imjeralee · 4 years ago

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Comfort in Despair: Chapter 27 - Spiritomb’s Revenge

Leon x F!Reader

Disclaimer: Do not own Pokemon

Summary:

Galar is rich in folklore and tales of the supernatural.

As a Pokemon Researcher who specialises in ghost types, this is a great opportunity for you to investigate and learn more about the paranormal.

Along the way, you meet Leon (in the most awkward way possible) who becomes embroiled in your adventures.

^ Basically this story is about ghosts :/

NOTE: This is a pretty violent/brutal chapter. sorry if it upsets you. The madness of this fic reaches another level. Warnings for blood, torture, violence.

Rating: General/Teen

@marydragneell here is the latest update

Spiritomb’s Revenge

…

["I suppose I should be upset, even feel violated, but I'm not. No, in fact, I think this is a friendly message, like ‘Hey, wanna play?’ And yes, I want to play. I really, really do.”

- Dexter]

…

Wyndon Police Station.

The station is in uproar. The lines have been ringing off the hook since early morning and have not stopped since. It is now lunchtime, but it looks like no-one will be able to grab a bite to eat.

In Postwick, roughly 11am, a man attacked a woman with her baby as she took a stroll near the Slumbering Weald. The suspect is still at large.

In Turrfield, twenty minutes later, an old couple were robbed at point-blank and subsequently beaten to death. The suspect then fled into Route 5. Searches proved ineffectual.

In Hulbury, half an hour later, a woman had reportedly jumped into the sea. Divers are still searching for her.

In Motostoke, ten minutes later, a middle-aged man fell to his death after he was pushed over the railing of the second level of the city by a young girl. The young girl has been brought into questioning but does not recall any of her actions.

In Hammerlocke, the CCTV of the vault picked up a masked individual attempting to steal the treasures within. The suspect was later apprehended but has no recollection of the incident. It was later revealed he is a kiosk worker at the stadium and he was on his lunch break.

There’s plenty more, at least five to six maximum cases of assault, robbery, suicide, manslaughter, murder or other petty crime per city and it’s doubling as the hours go pass, and Graves rubs his chin as waves upon waves of police officers report to him a startling increase of unrelated, independent events.

This is very strange. This has never happened before in Galar. This is madness. The reporters and journalists have already jumped on this, firing out Breaking News and Shocking Stories of a region overtaken by madness. They call it mass hysteria whilst some people are debating, calling it domestic terrorism.

There are worse reported crimes taking place in bigger cities like Wyndon and Hammerlocke, where concentrations of civilians are higher. Have all the criminals decided to let loose today? Is this some cult movement? Some online, social media movement?

After barking some orders to his colleagues and coordinates, Graves quickly weaves into his office and picks up his phone to call his goddaughter.

“Hello?”

He’s grateful she picked up. “It’s me.”

“What’s up?”

“What’s up? What’s up? Have you not been watching the news?”

“No, I’m outside with Jace. We’re at the airport to send Volkner off.”

He grumbles. “Goddamnit, go home when you’re done, you hear me? Stay home tonight. The whole region’s gone crazy.”

…

Wedgehurst.

The old woman knocks on the front door of the quaint little detached house with her Applin in her hand and waits. A short while later, footsteps can be heard approaching; it opens and a little boy peers through the small gap of the door.

“Hullo,” he says.

It’s Granny Smith. She lives next door and bakes him and his family plenty of apple pies.

She gives him a wide smile, the wrinkles on her face bunching together. “Hello Johnny!” she says in her soft and gentle voice, “is everything alright? I heard some very loud noises…”

The boy cocks his head to the side as she tries to sneak various peeks inside the house; he keeps blocking her, darting his head to the left as she bobs to the right and so forth.

“What loud noises?” he asks, the corners of his lips tugging upwards into a small smile.

“Just some very strange, very loud noises,” she says, “where's your mother?”

“Out.”

“Where's your father?” she asks, before she sniffs and giggles. “What a lovely smell.”

“Yes. My dad is in the kitchen, making lunch.”

“Oh, how lovely. And here I thought you were in trouble for a moment there. Have you seen the news? It’s utter chaos out there today.”

“No, as you can see…everything’s fine.”

She nods in agreement, stroking Applin’s tail. “I’ll be off then. Sorry for bothering you.”

“Goodbye,” Johnny says, then he promptly slams the door shut. It trembles violently in its doorframe with a loud ‘slam’.

“Oh," squeaks granny, a little startled.

She slips Applin into her bag and begins to shuffle out of their front lawn, throwing a glance over her shoulder; she sees him peeking at her retreating back behind the safety of the drawn blinds of their living room and when he’s caught, he ducks from sight.

When she’s away from view, Johnny leaves the lounge and into the kitchen where two chairs stand side-by-side and a man and woman are bound by plastic nylon cable ties, their arms fastened behind their backs and their ankles tied together.

Their mouths are covered by gags fastened securely around the back of their heads and as the boy approaches with a grin, they flail and shake their heads violently, their shouts for help muffled.

…

“Who was that?” Jace asks as you hang up the phone.

“Graves, he said there’s a sudden spike in crime in Galar today and told me to be careful,” you utter.

“That’s weird, I wonder what’s going on.”

You have a bad feeling about this. “Jace, let’s go.”

You are with Jace at Galar International Airport; Volkner has left Galar. He’s already boarded his flight to Sinnoh and should have taken off by now, having thanked you and Jace once again for the hospitality.

With coffees in hand, you and Jace head for the train station that will take you to Wyndon where you will get a Corviknight taxi home.

“I better give Leon a quick call,” you murmur, and Rotom quickly dials the Champion for you.

It rings for a few seconds before it’s picked up.

“Hey,” says Leon, and despite the noisy background, you can hear the excitement and affection in his voice when he greets you. You’re certain you can hear him grinning, too.

“Hey, are you okay?”

“Yep! Everything alright?”

“Graves said there’s a lot of crimes today, he told me to be careful.”

“I haven’t heard, I’m doing a photoshoot for Densoku right now,” he replies. “Where are you? I’ll be done soon; I can come get you when I’m finished.”

“Oh, no, it’s fine, I’m with Jace right now. We’re good. I just wanted to check up on you, that’s all. I’ll check if Hop and your mum are okay when I get back to Wedgehurst.”

“Okay, thanks, that would be great."

As you continue your conversation with Leon, Jace sips his coffee quietly and you hang up. He’s still feeling lukewarm towards Leon, neutral towards your relationship with the Champion.

“Is he okay?” Jace mutters, and you nod.

Whilst you wait with tourists and commuters on the busy platform along with their pokemon, this a perfect opportunity to discuss with Jace about his new job.

“I thought about it for a long time, and I decided to go for it. I’ll be an electrician at Sunyshore gym,” he says, “Volkner’s always tried to get me a job but I didn’t complete my training in time and when I did, all the jobs were gone.”

“Oh, so…you really are going to leave Galar,” you mumble.

A brief silence occurs; Jace glances at you worryingly and you look at him with a thin, watery smile.

“I’ll come and visit you.”

“I know you will.”

Eventually, the tannoy announces the train is approaching and to stay clear from the yellow lines on the platform; the train finally arrives, chugging to a gradual stop and the doors whoosh open.

A mix of tourists, and men and women in business suits with their pokemon pour out and the travellers on the platform, including yourself and Jace, pile into the awaiting carriage. Unfortunately all the seats are swiftly taken so you’re the only unlucky folk who have no choice but to stand, so you and Jace hog a small section near one of the doors, holding onto one of the handles as the train begins to move.

The conversation continues.

“I’m sorry, chuck.”

“Don’t be sorry! You’ve been offered a job you’ve always wanted! You can’t pass up on this opportunity.”

“Y-yeah, I know...I’ll miss you,” he murmurs, and he shifts his gaze to the window, watching the peaceful Galar scenery roll by. It changes from the industrial-looking airport to a highway full of speeding vehicles. Jace says, sighing, “I’ll miss you a lot.”

“Me too, but I’m really happy for you, Jace,” you reply, following his gaze to look outside the window, at the sheep pokemon.

The train enters a tunnel with a loud fwoosh and the peaceful greenery is immediately replaced with an inky black screen; the windows go dark with your reflections and behind you, a tall and shadowy figure suddenly appears.

The carriage grows cold, the temperature dropping and your body begins to tremble. Jace speaks but you can no longer hear him, his voice fading away into the background. In a split second, fear grips you like a vice, your heart grasped and squeezed, your chest about to pop. Your eyes promptly widen when you realise what is responsible for this, yet somehow you are able to move, to whip round to face the entity only to greeted with empty space and the carriage begins moving again, Jace's voice returning.

"-so I know I've always wanted to be an electrician but-"

His words fall on deaf ears as you frantically search the area with your gaze. There was no-one nearby; the seats are all filled with sleepy businessmen whilst a couple stands in the corner near the opposite doors playing with their Pokemon, who aren't affected.

"Did you see that?"

"See what?"

"A shadow," you utter. "There was something standing behind me the moment the train went into the tunnel."

Jace raises a brow and looks around you. "No, I've been standing beside you the entire time and didn't see anything. Are you okay?"

Unsure what to think of it, you hastily clear your throat and force a nod. "Y-yes, I'm fine. Never mind. Sorry, um...I'm probably tired; it was... probably just a trick of the eye," In an attempt to return to the conversation, you say, “You said you've always wanted to be an electrician?”

He nods. “Yeah, I’m really excited. I start in two months. That’ll give me time to get used to the region and find a place to stay. Volkner’s letting me stay with him for the first few months of course, but I should really find my own apartment…”

“You don’t sound so sure.”

He looks at you and smiles widely. “Ah, sorry! No, I am sure, it’s just…maybe I’m getting too attached to Galar. Chuck, would you…ever go back to Kalos?”

“I’m not sure. Probably not. Too many bad memories.”

“Hm, I see."

When the train emerges from the tunnel, the sunshine seeps into the train and the highway disappears, revealing bountiful green pastures full of grazing Wooloos and Dubwool.

However, you cannot shake off what you saw.

Meanwhile, the small TV screen fixed on the train’s walls blasts out news of violent crimes appearing all throughout Galar.

When the train arrives in Wyndon, you and Jace split up and you take a Corviknight taxi to Postwick where you quickly check up on Leon’s family; they are fine, deciding to stay at home due to recent news.

Returning home, Sonia greets you. “Hey, you’re back! Ezra's here!”

"Huh?” you exclaim as you enter the house, slipping off your shoes.

You glance at the conservatory where you see a familiar old man in a black duster with an Absol seated quietly on one of the white sofas. A flowery teacup and teapot sits on the table for him, but he’s left it untouched. The fragile decorum contrasts heavily with his dark, grungy appearance.

“Ezra!” you squawk as you head over. “You're here! I was worried about you, and there’s something I need to tell you-”

His eyes are closed and as you approach, he begins to cough, blood leaking out from the corner of his mouth and as you grab a tissue for him from the box, he shakes his head and wipes it away with his sleeve.

“I’m fine.”

“You need to go to hospital.”

“No, not yet; we need to stop Spiritomb,” he grunts.

“Spiritomb??”

“Yes, those crimes. They’re all Spiritomb’s doing. It’s going on a rampage.”

Sonia exchanges concerned glances between you and the old man.

“It’s possessing people…specifically those with immense evil in their hearts, and carrying out attacks before quickly leaving the host. It’s the work of the one hundred and eight spirits we sealed away,” he mutters, “they are clashing and fighting for control, with one personality taking over at one time… hence why the crimes that have been reported are so varied.”

“Got it,” you reply with a nod, and Ezra shifts to get up and off the couch. “Any leads?”

“Yes. I detected its presence in Wedgehurst. Let’s go now before it escapes.”

“Okay.”

“Wait!” Sonia intervenes at once, waving her hands in the air. “No, don’t go, this is too dangerous!”

“Don’t worry, Sonia. Ezra and I know what we’re doing,” you tell her with a smile.

It’s been a while since you and Ezra have worked together.

…

“The hate is strong in this one,” says Johnny, before he glances at the helpless couple he’s kept tied up in the kitchen, “I guess he has you to thank for that since you're the ones who raised him into such a disrespectful and vile spoiled brat. Let me give you a little taste.”

Sidling to the microwave, the two begin to cry with fear and flail against their bounds as he opens the door and pulls out the crudely sliced and half-cooked body of a Spearow, sliding the slushy, gooey red remains of the bird pokemon onto a porcelain plate before he grabs a fork and returns to the couple’s side.

“Open up,” Johnny says as he steps behind the father’s chair and pulls the gag out of his aching mouth.

His lips are crusted all over with spit, dry and wet, and the man shakes his head fiercely in a futile act of protest, hot tears streaming down his eyes as Johnny grabs a handful of the meat. Mangled flesh and deep red ooze drips over the boy’s small fist before he promptly smears the meat over the man’s mouth, his fingers and nails soaked with rancid blood.

The man fights to keep his jaws clenched tightly together in a desperate bid to refuse, but Johnny counters by gripping his chin tightly and with two fingers, roughly forces his jaw open, allowing him to stuff morsel after morsel down the man’s gullet. He chokes, gagging uncontrollably but Johnny merely picks the pieces up and rams them down his throat once more.

“Don’t waste food. There are starving children in some parts of the world,” he says.

The woman screams relentlessly at the morbid sight, squeezing her eyes shut with fright whilst jerking fiercely against her bonds, shaking and flinging her back against the chair as with as much strength as she can gather, the chair legs scraping an inch across the floor.

When the meat is all gone and the man is left rasping and panting, a few red blobs and chunks of flesh drop to the floor in messy piles, and Johnny abandons the now-empty plate in favour for a plastic bag he’s kept near the microwave, looping it over the man’s head and tying the handles firmly around the front of his neck.

Terrified, the man’s eyes dart left and right, the insides of the bag fogging over from his shaky breaths.

“Johnny! Stop!” the woman screams, and the boy briefly pauses in his actions to slap her harshly across the face with the back of his hand.

Her head snaps viciously to one side, hair strewn over her eyes. She goes silent from shock before she begins to sob, her cheek stinging.

“How dare you hit your mother!!” Johnny's father yells, his shouts muffled. With each word, each laborious breath, the flimsy and thin plastic of bag sucks into his mouth and out.

“Shut up,” snarls Johnny, taking a few steps backwards so he can stand proudly in front of his parents where they can see him properly.

Johnny’s smirk reaches all the way to his ears, his eyes crazed and maniacal. It’s a face not belonging to their son at all but a monster, and it sends them into muted shock.

“…You’re not my son,” the man spits venomously, wheezing as he struggles to breathe.

“You’re right,” says Johnny, “I’m not.”

Nonchalantly, Johnny sidles over to a canister of gasoline he had kept propped up next to the fridge and unscrews the lid, allowing a strong but pungent, sweet smell to waft in the air.

With a hand on the bottom and the handle of the canister, the couple scream and splutter as he douses them, emptying the entire contents over their heads and bodies; the woman continuously shakes her head whilst sobbing and begging. The man howls in terror.

“Now for the grand finale,” the boy says, dumping the empty can to the floor and whipping out a lighter from his pockets, flicking it on with a jerk of his thumb and a little flame springs up and dances in the air, taunting the couple.

Relishing the sound of their screams, Johnny promptly drops the lighter.

A fierce barrage of red and yellow immediately engulf the kitchen in its entirety.

The fire licks at their bodies ruthlessly, and Johnny stands, his eyes dancing with delight. The flames reach his feet yet he doesn’t flinch; lifting his arms into the air horizontally, he throws his head up and closes his eyes and basks in the heat, failing to notice the letter box on the front door squeaking open and a voice whispering, “Prohibere eum.”

A delicate, white paper crane subsequently flits inside, flapping its little wings as it bobs towards the direction of the burning kitchen.

The boy whips his head round to the doorway, eyes narrowing.

“Who’s there?!” he snarls.

Spotting the crane, he stares at it limply for a few seconds until it unfurls, revealing strange symbols painted in red. Brows furrowing, his hand shoots out and he grabs it, scrunching it up tightly under his fist.

Unraveling his clenched knuckles, his palm is coated in patches of the strange red ink and before his very eyes, the ink blots merge together to form the symbols which promptly disappears into his skin like a dampened tissue.

“What?!” he yells in shock and confusion; the symbols soon make their presences known once again, this time, stretching all over his arm.

His body suddenly feels itchy all over. He dares to take a peek at a mirror magnet on the refrigerator to see the red symbols have appeared all over his face.

It’s too late; the exorcists are coming for him – and the boy immediately collapses over the floor, eyes closed.

His mouth is eased open and a purple transparent bubble slinks between the gap of his lips and continues to crawl out. It grows in size until it begins to form a distinct, ragged spherical shape, followed by a stone. A smooth, brown stone with a fissure in the middle. The creature crawls out of the boy’s mouth and slips over the floor in a puddle, just as the front door is abruptly kicked open and you step inside with Ezra.

“Sequimini eum!” Ezra yells, as Spiritomb attempts to make its frantic escape.

The pokemon is heading for the window – Gengar emerges from a shadow and fires a Shadow Ball at it – the attack misses and Spiritomb phases through the glass, vanishing outside.

“It got away!” you curse, but Ezra shakes his head.

“No, not this time. I’ll go after it,” he says, before he casts his dull gaze to the bodies on the floor. "Stay here and call an ambulance and the fire brigade.”

“Understood,” you reply, and Ezra abruptly leaves the house with Absol. “Gengar, follow Ezra, then come back to get me, okay?”

Your pokemon nods and merges with Ezra’s retreating shadow.

Water-type pokemon would be handy here but you do not have any so you hastily grab a blanket from one of their sofas, and with your pokemon’s help, you each grab a corner, soak it under the taps of the kitchen sink and throw it over the burning bodies.

The fire is extinguished at once, smoke fizzing out and into the atmosphere in thick wisps; the unmistakable stench of burnt flesh hangs heavy in the air.

Whilst you call for an ambulance, Mimikyu checks the fire alarm of the house which shows signs of being sabotaged, most likely Spiritomb’s doing. Vulpix slides a paw under the blanket to check the damage and shudders once she’s had a look, she settles the blanket back over their bodies.

Once the ambulance and firefighters are called, you leave the house.

Spiritomb is the most dangerous pokemon you’ve ever encountered.

It’s time to rejoin Ezra.

…

Meanwhile, Graves slows the car to a stop and pulls up at a gas pump outside Turrfield, Route 5. It’s been a crazy, hectic day and he’s on his way back to the police station when his car has run out of gas.

He rolls up his sleeves, pulling open the flap and feeding the nozzle inside. As the car fills up with petrol, Graves stands, whistling, looking around casually when he hears a woman’s earsplitting scream in the distance.

“What the hell…”

He eases the pump out, placing it into the holster and steps out, squinting his eyes at the horizon; a middle-aged woman comes running towards his direction, dishevelled and petrified beyond belief, the expression on her face full of nothing but terror. A short distance away, a familiar old man is limping after her along with an Absol.

It’s the homeless man called Ezra, whom his goddaughter is acquainted with. The ex-convict. The man who was jailed for murdering his wife and kid.

The woman he is chasing is screaming for her life, and when she spots Graves who rushes over, she heads for his direction and clings onto his arm. Her eyes are wide and panicky as she pants heavily, gesturing wildly to the pursuing Ezra.

“Help me, please! That madman is after me!!!” she shrieks. “He's trying to kill me!”

“Absol, attack!” Ezra commands, and the pokemon dashes towards them but Graves immediately reaches a hand behind his waist and pulls out Arcanine’s pokeball, tossing it into the air and releasing the canine pokemon.

“Stop! Take one more step or I’ll command Arcanine to attack!” Graves snaps, as Arcanine readies itself into an offensive stance, growling at Absol threateningly.

Immediately, passerby’s scream and begin rushing for cover, whilst the customers of the gas station run inside the gas station to hide.

Absol comes to a skidding halt, her paws kicking up dirt, but she snarls loudly at Graves and his pokemon and begins to pace back and forth as though ready to pounce at any time should her master willed it.

Ezra growls with frustration as the woman hides behind the Chief Inspector. “Inspector Graves. That woman has been possessed by an extremely dangerous pokemon,” Ezra barks, pointing to the woman. “A Spiritomb. It’s the culprit behind the recent crimes.”

Graves turns to the woman who throw her horror-stricken glance up to him. She blinks at him with widened eyes and shakes her head wildly. “He’s crazy!! Help me, please!”

“Arceus, you’re insane,” Graves utters under his breath, “ma’am, I’ll take you to the station where you can get help. Ezra, stay right where you are. Arcanine, watch over him and make sure he doesn’t move.”

“You’re making a damn mistake!” Ezra growls.

The old man takes a step forwards and abruptly stops, bowling over with a hand clutching his chest. Absol returns to his side, yowling loudly with concern as he enters a harsh coughing fit; his chest is on fire, his lungs pierced by a sharp, throbbing pain. As Ezra splutters and chokes, he drops on one knee, slapping a hand over his mouth in a futile attempt to prevent the uncontrollable rush of blood that’s spilling out.

Viscous red lines seeps through the gaps of his fingers, spilling over the concrete in little splotches. Absol wails with fright at the sight of her suffering master who inevitably collapses over the ground on his front, motionless.

"Ezra!" Graves yells, but he's effectively halted when the frightened woman tugs on his elbow.

“Oh, thank you,” she says, “thank you so much.”

“Ma’am, stay here.” He instructs. Graves isn't on bad terms with the priest though he doesn't trust him in any way, but he cannot leave Ezra like this so he recalls Arcanine, dips a hand to grab his Rotom phone to call an ambulance only to emit a cry of pain; the device falls out of his hand but luckily, the pokemon bobs back up before it completely meets the ground

“Sir, what’s wrong?” Rotom asks, only to witness the woman dropping to the ground as a purple swirl emerges from her mouth which has latched itself to Graves’ back; a purple mist encases his body and seeps into his chest as a purple tendril begins crawling towards his mouth. Horrified, the phone flits in the air helplessly. “Bzzzzrt! Zzztop! Zztop thizzz at once! Oh, Mazzzter, Mazzter Gravezzz! Zzomeone, help!!”

The creature vanishes and Graves’ eyes snaps open, now a bizarre shade of lime green; Rotom stares in horror as the entity grins and pats at his chest and looks at his arms before spotting the bridge that overlooks the Wild Area, connecting Turrfield and Hulbury together.

….

Gengar returns to tell you Ezra is in Turrfield, so you make your way over as quickly as you can and the shadow pokemon leads you to a gas station which is in chaos. Several vans belonging to various TV stations are parked outside along with their TV anchors standing and delivering live news and interviewing witnesses. A few locals stand behind the tape, pointing and whispering, whilst a puddle of blood has been outlined with a yellow chalk.

You manage to overhear the following:

“Yeah, so I saw this woman rushing up to this middle-aged dude, and then this old dude with an Absol came and the middle-aged dude pulled an Arcanine on him. Sick move, man.”

It’s utter pandemonium. Beside one of the gas pumps, you recognize Graves’ car from the license plate and head over, peering through the windows. It’s empty.

An ambulance is also parked closeby where you see Absol outside, howling mournfully with her head raised to the air.

“Absol!!!” you rush over, squatting in front of her. “What happened???! Are you okay? Where’s Ezra?”

Absol stops yowling for a moment to regard you before a voice worms inside your mind: "My father is inside. He’s unconscious."

“…..Cassie?” you breathe out in shock.

Absol blinks at you with her bright blue eyes before she continues howling once more. The doors to the ambulance subsequently open and you’re greeted with a paramedic who jumps out and you briefly see Ezra inside, lying on a stretcher with a breathing mask.

“Ezra!” you yell, “Can I go in? I know him.”

“His condition is stable, you can go in.”

“Thank you!” you climb inside the vehicle and the paramedics within are helping set up heart monitors and IV drips around him. “Ezra, I’m here.”

His eyelids open weakly and he mutters deliriously, “….Spiritomb….it’s taken your godfather…It took the guise of a woman…your godfather thought she needed help…Don’t mind me, go after the fool before he gets himself killed…he was heading for route five…”

“But-“

“Go,” Ezra urges, “I’ll be fine…..”

“O-okay. Take care.”

You nod reluctantly and leave.

…

You find your godfather in Route 5 as Ezra had mentioned, standing precariously on the ledge of the fifty-feet high bridge, overlooking the scenery of the Wild Area below. He’s barefoot and missing his suit, his hair messy, tie undone, shirt sleeves rolled to the elbows and looking very unkempt.

None of the TV crew have arrived yet, which you’re grateful for because you do not want the media to get involved with this fiasco.

However, it’s unavoidable that some people and their pokemon have gathered around, standing at a safe distance several feet away. Whilst some individuals are recording this scene on their phone, others are trying to talk him down but to no avail. Some are actively asking if there are any trainers with ice-type pokemon that can freeze him (no-one has any, unfortunately). Ultimately, no-one seems to know what to do.

“Let me through! I know him, I’m his goddaughter!” you yell, pushing your way through the crowd and making your way to the very front. “Graves!! Graves – urgh, I mean, Uncle Chris! Don’t do it!”

Graves whips round yet you do not see his features, only a grinning mass of purple with green flecks. It’s Spiritomb, who grins maliciously at you.

“Get out of his body!” you growl angrily, gritting your teeth with rage.

“No, I like this body very much. The misery, the regret, the loneliness. He misses Ellen very much, he wants to be with her,” says Spiritomb, “and he misses your family, your father. He regrets not doing enough. You’re sad all the time because of him. He can’t do anything. He’s useless. He wants to die.”

The crowd go quiet, watching your interaction, though a kind-looking woman holds you back.

“Be careful, it’s best not to get too close because he’s very agitated right now. It’s best not to aggravate him or make sudden movements," she mutters.

You can hardly hear what she’s saying, the sheer panic and distress that you normally don’t experience during uncertain and dangerous times like these has suddenly kickstarted in your system.

“No!!!” you yelp in a desperate bid to get through to your godfather, “Stop it! Stop thinking like that!! I’m still here, I survived!!! You didn’t fail!! I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you feel like you’re useless. You’re not! I’m sorry, I’m so sorry! I’ll enroll in the police academy, okay? I won't make you worry for me anymore. I'm sorry!”

And Graves falters slightly, grumbling incoherently under his breath. Spiritomb's visage briefly vanishes as your godfather’s brows scrunch with confusion.

“You’re the only family I have left and I can’t lose you too! Please, Uncle Chris, snap out of it!”

Graves grumbles and groans in response to your pleas, his eye twitching.

You throw a sideways glance to Gengar; he’s lurking in your shadow and giving you a nod, silently travels over towards Graves’ direction.

And Spiritomb snaps, “Shut up!”

Then he turns and jumps, just seconds before Gengar leaps out from the shadow to grab him. Missed.

People scream, whilst a few trainers release their bird pokemon and direct them to go after the fallen man and Gengar buries himself into the shadows once more.

You throw yourself to the ledge, peering over where you see Graves plummeting helplessly in the air. “No!!”

Your pokemon bursts out forth from Graves’ falling shadow but he is not close enough. His eyes glowing, Gengar’s eyes and claws turns red before he spins in the air and throws his arms up, forcibly extracting a purple blob out of Graves body – it’s Spiritomb, whom he’s now trapped in a glowing red forcefield. Spiritomb growls and resists, shooting several Shadow Balls against its confines to no effect. The attack hits the walls of the forcefield akin to cork bouncing against a brick wall.

However, Graves is still hurtling towards the ground despite Gengar’s attempts, and the bird pokemon swooping towards him aren’t quick enough either.

“Wait, what’s that in the air?!!!” someone cries, pointing to the sky.

Everyone follows the direction of his finger and you see a familiar flame pokemon heading for your group. It’s Charizard; he’s zooming towards your way and the crowd begins to cheer.

“It’s Charizard!!! The Champion is here!!!”

“YES!”

“Go, Leon!!!”

Charizard swoops past and dives, folding his wings close to his body to reduce the resistance of the air, allowing himself to barrel towards your godfather's direction in seconds; in his wake, he leaves a gust of wind billowing that blows the majority of the crowd off their feet and to the ground including yourself; as you sit up, slightly dazed, you look around frantically for Leon and there he is, sprinting towards you from the direction of Motostoke.

“Leon!!!” you cry with relief, scrabbling up to stand.

Charizard returns with a massive flap of his wings, shooting up and into the air before he lands on the ground, clutching an unconscious Graves in his arms.

“Charizard!!” you exclaim, “Thank you!!”

The pokemon snorts loudly and gives you a toothy grin as he lays the unconscious man on the ground in front of you as carefully as he can so you can inspect him. You breathe a sigh of relief; Graves is unharmed.

People begin cheering as Leon finally arrives whereas Gengar returns to the bridge with Spiritomb who is still stuck in the forcefield. When the flying pokemon return, the trainers all turn to the trapped pokemon and proceed to divert their fury towards it, using a wide range of fairy-type moves and others to attack it.

You hear Spiritomb croaking out in pain whilst the other flying type pokemon join in, whaling blows and pecking at the pokemon whilst their trainers cheer and pump fists in the air.

With half of the crowd focused on and bemused with attacking Spiritomb, the remaining crowd part ways to let Leon through and you look up at him as he moves to crouch beside you on one knee.

“Hey, are you alright?” he asks gently, but you are so shocked you merely throw your arms around him with gratitude.

“Thank you, Leon…”

He bundles you up in his arms, stroking the back of your head. “It’s okay, everything’s alright. I’m here….” He mutters soothingly in your ear, “I’m here.”

…

#jeralee #fanfic #fic #reader #reader insert #leon x reader #leon #Leon x you #dande #pkmn #pokemon #pokemonsword #pokemonshield #pokemonswordandshield #pokemonshieldsword #pokemonshieldandsword #Comfort in Despair #archive of our own

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tagsecretsanta · 4 years ago

Text

From @willow-salix

to @fallenfurther

Secret Santa does not own this work, full credit to the author above!

Grandma Tracy might portray herself as a hip, cool, down with the kids granny to anyone that would listen but even she had to admit that she was a traditionalist at heart. Not in the way that many might expect, not in the boring way of not moving with the times when needed, she could work the holoprojector almost as well as John when it came to coordinating a rescue, she just subscribed to the ‘if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it’ school of thought.

She knew that old fashioned things still had a place in the world, they still had a use, even when people thought they were antiquated and fit for nothing but a museum or a rubbish pile. She’d proven that to Virgil when they had been stuck in London with no technology whatsoever and since then Virgil had had more of an appreciation for the older things in life.

Traditions were important in her eyes, although rarely were they the common ones that everyone in the world did. Mostly because Sally Tracy did not follow the pack, she never had. She refused to do what everyone else did, to her traditions began at home. They should invoke memories of a time long ago and remind you of the things that were important. Family traditions, now they were the way to go.

She could vividly remember her mother singing along to the radio as they decorated the Christmas tree. They would drink hot chocolate and have a lovely time as they decorated, dressing up in the tinsel and talking, catching up on the things they might not have had time to talk about before. Always on the 1st of December, always with Christmas songs playing and always as a family. And Sally had made sure that she'd done exactly the same with her boys.

Now it was Christmas Eve, the gifts had been purchased and wrapped, the tree had been decorated and the family had just about escaped with their sanity after a month of non stop christmas songs on the stereo courtesy of Grandma. Jeff had been the only one brave enough to suggest that maybe they listen to something else but he had quickly backed down when she had speared him with a glare that could have stripped the paint off Thunderbird Two’s hull if she had been close enough to it.

It’s tradition, she said, one of the only ones she could count on since moving to Tracy Island. Beautiful as the island was, it was far too tropical to feel in any way christmassy and the only way she could get in the mood (or so she claimed) was by listening to festive music.

She missed feeling the days grow colder as summer lost its grip on the world and the crisp, chilly days of fall took over. Once fall was firmly there and you couldn’t leave the house without a sweater it was only a matter of time before the smell of burning leaves and woodsmoke filled the air and winter came nipping at its heels. The cold of winter, the first flurries of snow, brought with it the sound of carols, bells and the smell of baking gingerbread. She loved being wrapped up in warm clothes and feeling the icy blast of wind that stole her breath and she missed it when temperatures on the island rarely changed at all.

Rescues often made regular meals and time off difficult, they often interrupted family time and special occasions. The Tracys were used to it, but it did make getting into any kind of routine difficult and often meant that such things as birthdays and christmas felt unimportant. But not to Grandma, to her it was of vital importance and no one had better argue with her. Jeff, wise man that he was, had given up and retreated to his office, his almost soundproof door and peace.

Gordon was in London spending the day with Penelope for her birthday before they returned to the island that evening for Christmas. John was in Five as usual, finishing up preparations for a few well deserved days off (although he would probably be regretting his decision by dinner time Christmas Day), Kayo was visiting Kyrano for Christmas Eve and would return in the morning and Brains was wishing he had never walked into the lounge.

“Snow is falling, all around me, children playing, having fun,” Grandma sang, joining in with the video playing out on the holoprojector as she attempted to crochet a scarf figuring it was as traditional a pass time as any to indulge in, maybe it would be ready by next Christmas if she was lucky. “Come on, Brains, you know the words, join in.”

“B-but it’s not accurate for our climate,” he argued, never having been one to enjoy a sing-along like some members of the family. “There is never snow on T-T-Tracy Island.”

“That’s not the point, Brains,” she sighed, trying to untangle the yarn that insisted on knotting on her lap rather than in the carefully ordered way it should.

“It’s not?”

“No!” She tossed the scarf, all four wonky rows of it, onto the table, giving up for now before she was tempted to lob it up Thunderbird Two's tail pipe.

“I d-don’t understand,” Brains admitted, something that was very hard for him to do. He was used to being one of the smartest people in the room, if not the smartest, and now, here he was, not understanding a simple thing like this. Maybe he’d been working too hard?

“It’s not about the song, it’s about the meaning behind it,” Grandma explained patiently for what felt like the millionth time that December. “It’s traditional.”

“A song is traditional?”

“Well, yes, but not just the song, it’s the image it portrays. Christmas in my day meant snow, cold weather clothes, wrapping up warm, skating on a frozen lake, then coming inside to drink hot chocolate around a crackling fire and listening to carols on the radio with my mother as we waited for my father to get home. We knew that once he was home the holidays could really start. He worked hard and had very little time off in a year, only every other sunday, two days for Easter and Christmas Day.”

“Kinda like us then,” Alan muttered from his spot on the couch where he had been relaxing before breakfast, playing a handheld game.

“Yes, and because we have none of the weather here or the time off, not that I would want to be anywhere else, but the only thing that really makes it feel like Christmas is the songs. So we’re going to keep the music and you’re all going to like it.”

A new song came on and Grandma sighed happily as Alan groaned as if in pain.

“I love this song, it was one of my favourites,” she stared dreamily at the screen. “Oh, it’s Christmas time, mistletoe and wine. Children singing Christian rhyme. Isn’t he handsome? I wouldn’t kick him out for eating cookies.”

“Grandma!” Alan gasped, shocked to the core, his tone showing his disgust.

“What? Just because I’m old doesn’t mean I can’t look and do a little window shopping. I’ve got all his albums, including his live concerts, it’s just not Christmas without seeing him on the TV. Here, I’ll show you. Just listen to him some more and I’m sure you’ll learn to love him.”

“Do I have to?”

“Yes, it’s Christmas.”

“That’s your answer to everything,” Alan grumbled but he put down his game and prepared to do his duty as a grandson.

“I’ll start you off easy with Little Town,” Grandma told him, pressing play.

***

“This comes to pass, when a child is born. When a child is born… oh, oh, o-” Grandma sang along to the fifth song of her playlist when, to Alan’s intense relief, John’s hologram popped up, replacing the music video that had been playing.

“International Rescue, we have a situation,” he started, then paused looking around the room, frowning when he saw only Grandma, Brains and Alan in attendance.

“A situation? Yes! I’ll get Scott and Virg,” Alan cheered, jumping up.

"That's not the reaction I usually get," John observed, wondering what could have brought about that sort of excitement so early in the morning from the brother who liked his sleep the most.

“Never mind that. What have you got?” Grandma asked, all business now, her Christmas spirit in song form now forgotten.

“Guests trapped in an ice hotel in Sweden.”

“Scott! Virgil! It’s safe to come up, the music’s off and John needs us to go to Sweden,” Alan yelled as he clattered down the stairs to the kitchen where the older two were no doubt hiding.

“A what now?” Grandma asked, ignoring Alan.

“An ice hotel,” John repeated. “The hotel was first built in 1990 in the small village of Jukkasjarvi, Sweden, now they rebuild it every year and add to it with a different architect for each room. I’m sure it looks very beautiful when you can actually see it and a freak snow storm hasn't covered the entrance then frozen.” He pulled up a feed to show what must have been the hotel but all that was visible was two large piles of snow.

“What are we looking at, John?” Scott demanded to know, jogging up the stairs with Virgil hot on his heels, Alan bringing up the rear.

John brought up a picture of the ice hotel in its normal glory.

“This is the Winter Heart Hotel in Sweden,” he began. The picture showed a beautiful backdrop of a frosty night with the northern lights visible dancing in the sky behind two pure white domes of snow which were obviously the hotel. They looked like elaborate igloos, connected by covered tunnels and slopes that had formed on the sides with big, wooden looking doors on the front of the domes. The snow sparkled in the moonlight and even though it was clearly freezing cold the whole place looked very welcoming. Little cabins were scattered here and there around the hotel itself, giving the whole scene a picture postcard feel.

“Looks great,” Virgil commented.

“That was it three months ago,” John answered before flicking aside the picture to replace it with the previous image. “This is it as of four hours ago.”

“Woah,” Scott breathed, his eyes tracking over the large mounds of snow that covered the domes so effectively they looked to be nothing but snowy hills. “What happened?”

“Freak snow storm blew in from the arctic circle and dumped around seven feet of snow on the hotel overnight. By the time morning came the fresh snow had frozen solid, trapping a number of high profile guests inside.”

“High profile?”

“The Winter Wonder charity concert happens there every year, people from all over the world pay big money to stay there and not just for the music,” John answered. "It's reported to be an amazing experience but not for the faint hearted. They keep the inside at a constant -5 degrees centigrade, although they do have warm rooms of the hotel such as bathrooms and some bedrooms. They should be fine in there for now, but we obviously need to get them out. The hotel itself has been trying to dig their way through for the past hour. They had a snow plow of their own but it broke a week or so ago and as no snow was forecast they hadn't rushed to replace it.”

“Any casualties?” Virgil asked, already walking across the lounge to his launch chute.

“None reported, apparently they have placated the guests with numerous free drinks and dinner, but unfortunately they are now reported to be getting a little rowdy.”

“Rowdy? Well it won’t do to keep them waiting much longer, will it? I guess we had better hit the skies,” Scott grinned, crossing over to stand in front of the wall where his launch chute was hidden, reaching up to grasp the light fittings that triggered the revolving door. “See you out there!”

“Alan, you're with me,” Virgil called, much to Alan’s delight. He dropped down in one of the bucket seats that would take him or a passenger to Thunderbird Three so he could suit up, grinning like a mad man, happy to be off the island for a few hours.

“I’ll send the coordinates and brief you when you’re airborne,” John told them as they all vanished, his hologram blinking out a moment later.

“Well,” Grandma sighed, turning back to the holoprojector. “Now that they have gone I guess it’s just you and me, Brains.” With a quick flick of her wrist she had turned the music video on, the sound drowning out Brains’ pitiful groan.

***

“Bulldozer Pod is go!”

“Alan, be careful with it!” John warned, his voice echoing around the pod cabin, as the bulldozer shot forward at a much faster speed than was sensible. His hologram popped back into existence to give their littlest brother one of his patented death stares when Alan dared to roll his eyes at him.

“I think I know what I’m doing, it’s just a little snow.”

“No, it’s not just a little snow, if you go too deep or too far you’ll risk taking out one of the walls of the hotel itself. It’ll register as snow, exactly as the rest of it does. Here,” John paused to send through the holographic map overlay he had just finished creating. The overlay settled on top of the map already in front of Alan from the pods scans, then sank down over the snowy mounds, now showing the outline of the buildings.

“Avoid the ice walls, I got it,” Alan assured him.

“Just make sure you pay full attention,” John ordered.

“I’ll be fine, go bug Scott, he’s the one you can’t trust.”

“Unfortunately there isn't just one, I can’t trust any of you,” John sighed and, against his better judgement, left Alan to his own devices.

Alan trundled forward a little slower than before, heeding the warning. He might be excitable but he wasn’t stupid and now that he had a better idea of what he was looking at and supposed to do he could see that he would have to be a little more careful.

As John had said, scans from their equipment were registering nothing but ice and snow, there was no clear definition between what was fresh snow and what had been there before and was part of the building. He could detect life signs deep inside the snow piles, as expected, but they seemed calm enough, their heart rates slow and easy, showing them to be totally relaxed.

He moved the pod closer to the huge wall of snow and maneuvered it into place, his plan being to work in a square, side to side, front to back, moving in closer and closer until the majority of the snow had been removed, allowing Virgil and Scott access to come in with a modified Sherpa Pod. The idea being to use the heat bank element to create what amounted to a high powered hair dryer to defrost the ice that had the guests trapped.

With his first run he plowed a wide path in front of the hotel a good twelve meters away. He checked the map overlay, calculating that he could manage two more full sweeps, working back and forth before he’d be risking getting too close and would have to hand over to his brothers.

Scott and Virgil were configuring the modifications to the Sherpa Pod when John called in to give them an update.

“Alan has removed the snow down to quarter of a meter from the doors, now it’s down to you guys.”

“FAB Thunderbird Five,” Scott answered, swinging up into the passenger seat of the pod. He’d finally grown out of his desire to drive every single vehicle he got into and had learnt that Virgil was, in general, a much more capable pod pilot than he was, although he’d never admit that out loud.

Virgil gave him that look that said he knew exactly what he was doing but, being the more peace loving Tracy, he declined to comment. Instead he climbed effortlessly into the driver's seat and settled in. He carefully guided the vehicle down the module ramp and out onto the snow, ignoring Scott’s impatient huff in response to his sedate pace.

“Slow and steady,” he quoted, knowing that snow was tricky terrain to navigate at the best of times and this wasn’t the time or the place in which to push their luck.

“The danger here is with the hotel itself,” John told them as Virgil made his way across the snow.

“How so?” Scott asked. “I thought the reports said that the hotel was stable.”

“It’s made of the very thing we’re going to be melting,” Virgil answered, checking his instrument readouts as he navigated up and over the snow into the ditch that Alan had excavated.

“Oh, yeah, good point,” Scott conceded. “So what’s the plan?”

“The snow fall isn’t the real problem here, the hotel can take the weight of it easily having been subjected to weight tests to ensure it could retain its structural integrity for these exact reasons,"John answered. "In this case all we need to do is concentrate on freeing the doors, the rest, as long as they take precautions, should be fine to leave in situ.”

“Got it, just the doors,” Scott confirmed.

“You’re going to have to go steady,” John warned. “There’s not a lot of clearance there, Alan has done his best but it’s going to be a delicate operation.”

“Steady is my middle name,” Virgil assured him. “I’ve got it under control. You just concentrate on keeping the hotel employees in the loop.”

“FAB,” John answered, blinking out as quickly as he had come.

Heat bank raised, Virgil worked the controls expertly, taking his time to melt away the snow that was left, being careful to keep it moving and only work on the front of the hotel where the doors should be, following the same map overlay that John had provided for Alan.

Alan, they saw, had done a thorough job, moving the snow far out of the way and was now using the loader and the pod’s caterpillar tracks to tramp down and spread out the snow he’d plowed, eliminating the possibility of the new snow piles posing a danger to anyone.

After only a few minutes of careful work the doors to the main entrance of the hotel began to appear through the snow as it melted away, sliding down the wood. Virgil checked the map one more time, realising that there was little more he could do without risking the ice of the hotel itself.

“I’m gonna have to get my exo-suit and do the rest by hand,” he decided, sounding like he was talking to himself, almost like he had forgotten that Scott was even there. Scott declined to comment, busy watching Alan work, pleased to see that, although the youngest Tracy sometimes had the same kind of offbeat humour as Gordon, he was as competent and sure as ever in his work.

Virgil turned the pod back to the module, not wanting to walk the entire way and, leaving Scott to reconfigure the pod to something a little more manageable for travelling across snow, he got himself into the mechanical suit.

Twenty minutes later a stream of grateful employees and guests came pouring out of the freed doors, all talking at once, jabbering away in excitement at seeing the mighty Thunderbird vehicles up close.

“Please, please come inside,” one waiter gushed, grabbing Scott by the arm and hauling him into the hotel. Virgil glanced at Alan who shrugged, it wasn’t like they couldn't be spared for a little longer. "My name is Felix, please, anything I can do, just tell me."

"It's OK, Felix," Scott started. "We don't need you to do anything…" he trailed off as they stepped inside, their attention instantly taken by their first look at the hotel.

“Woah,” they all breathed in unison, their eyes feasting on the beauty in front of them. They were surrounded on all sides by sparkling, crystal like slabs of ice that formed a lobby area that immediately opened up into an ice bar, a warmly wrapped up waiter behind the bar ready to take their orders. Several guests sat on fur covered ice chairs, sipping from thick glasses that looked to be crystal but were obviously made of ice too.

“This is just...wow,” Virgil’s eyes darted here and there, trying to take in everything at once. He slipped his arms out of the exo-suit and allowed the mechanical limbs to fold down alongside the suit against his back. Reaching out a hand he stroked the delicately carved face of an ice maiden, one of the many sculptures that were dotted here and there. “Can I have a look around?”

“Of course,” the waiter, Felix, who had invited them in nodded eagerly, clearly happy to be of service. “Come, I give you a tour.”

Virgil knew that he must have looked a sight, stomping down the icy walkway with his suit on so, with Scott’s help, he shed it and left his brothers to guard it while he followed the man who had already darted ahead.

Now that he was free of the cumbersome machinery he was able to navigate the icy corridors and smaller walkways with ease. He descended a staircase, again completely made of ice, something he found hard to get his head around as it all looked like crystal, and stepped into a high ceilinged room that sported the most magnificent chandelier he had ever seen.

The ice shards hung down in elegant lines that culminated in three perfectly formed circles. The artist in him was in awe of the work that had gone into creating something that was not only visually stunning but practical at the same time.

Walking through the rooms he saw more exquisite sculptures, fur draped beds in bedrooms that each had a different theme such as under the sea with giant ice jellyfish hanging from the ceiling, clowns, dancers, and solar systems. On the way to the beautiful chapel with its ice shard altar and fur covered pews, he saw a magnificent unicorn that dominated a large part of a hallway. Here and there he saw leaves, animals, birds, faces and flowers, all carved from the ice and snow that made up the hotel. It was, simply put, stunning.

He returned to find Scott and Alan, who had taken up residence in one of the warm rooms with cups of hot chocolate, surrounded by guests. Many of them seemed a little worse for wear after their extended stays in the bar areas where the drinks had been flowing freely in an effort to keep them unaware as to the predicament they had been in.

It seemed that the guests were also fans, their voices carrying that slightly raised, mildly slurred tone that drunk people got, as they peppered the boys with questions.

“We really can’t reveal any of our secrets,” Scott told them, sounding as if he were repeating himself for maybe the twentieth time.

“You eat?” someone popped up behind them and offered a delicious looking burger on a plate.

“Oh, don’t mind if I do,” Scott grinned, reaching to take it. “Thank you.”

Alan and Virgil happily accepted their own plates, diving in to take large bites, eager for some food that hadn’t been cremated by Grandma. Decent food was hit or miss on the island, but everything dished up was met with a general sense of trepidation until the first bite determined its edibility.

“Damn, this is good,” Alan mumbled, his mouth full.

“I’ll say it is,” Virgil agreed, his cheeks resembling hamster pouches as he answered with his mouth full.

"I am glad you like,” Felix smiled, looking rather proud of himself. “They are our speciality, made from our own reindeer.”

Alan choked, his eyes growing wide as he stopped chewing and stared at the burger. Reaching for a napkin he, as politely as possible, spat out the food in his mouth.

Virgil looked a little horrified while Scott just shrugged and kept right on eating. Scott counted himself as a foodie, he would try anything once, or even twice if he was undecided the first time. He had eaten in top restaurants around the world, in little cafes, from carts on the side of the road, anywhere and everywhere that there was food, there was Scott, willing and ready to try it.

“What?” he asked when Alan stared at him in disgust. “It’s a burger, plus it’s good.”

Virgil was obviously fighting some internal war between his stomach and his brain. On the one hand he was hungry and Scott was right, the burger was damn good, but on the other his brain was insisting on conjuring up visions of Santa and his sleigh. In the end his stomach won and he took another bite.

“Virgil!” Alan gasped, making Virgil wince guiltily.

“There’s nothing wrong with the burger, Al. They were good enough to feed us, it would be rude not to.”

Alan, clearly torn between his desire to not be seen as impolite and his desire to not eat Rudolph, was spared from making a decision by a sudden burst of music coming from deeper in the hotel. All three Tracy brothers groaned in unison.

“Is there a problem?” Felix asked, concern etched on his face. Had he given them a bad burger? Food poisoning? Insulted their ancestors? “Anything I can do to thank you, please do say.”

“No,” Virgil assured him. “We just recognised the music, that’s all.”

“Ah,” Felix smiled, clearly relieved. “That is the band beginning a last minute rehearsal and sound check before the concert.”

“Concert?”

Felix pointed to a holographic poster on the wall.

Alan’s eyes widened in recognition and he leant over to whisper to Scott. Scott listened, his eyes widening too as he realised what his little brother meant.

Clearing his throat he made his request. “Maybe there is something you can do for us, if you wouldn’t mind.”

“Of course! Anything!” Felix gushed, pleased that the high profile Tracy brothers weren’t mad at him.

“Can you get us their autographs?”

Felix grinned, looking even more proud of himself than he had before.

“I can do better than that.”

***

Grandma hadn’t known what to think when Virgil had called home and told her that Scott was on his way back to collect her, telling her only to wear as many warm clothes as she could, but she had done as she was told.

Digging deep into the back of her wardrobe where she kept the clothes that had languished there for more years than she cared to remember, she had dragged out a thick winter coat and a warm top to wear under her customary onesie, along with wooly socks, gloves, scarf and hat.

She was waiting impatiently in the launch bay before Scott had even made it home and was soon comfortably installed in a passenger seat as her eldest grandson whisked her away into the unknown.

Virgil and Alan were there to greet them as they landed, a pair of ice skates in hand and identically proud grins on their faces.

They had spent a pleasant hour or so sliding around on the custom built ice rink. The ice, as with the hotel, had been imported from the nearby Torne River. Grandma was pleased to find that, although slightly rusty at first, she was able to take to the ice with a reasonable degree of competency, much better than that of her grandsons.

Scott was all long limbs and over enthusiasm, trying to go fast straight off the bat and failing spectacularly until he slowed down and figured out how to walk before he ran. Virgil was a little better, adopting the tactic of trying to place his feet carefully, as he would while walking, getting his footing before doing a slow first lap around the outer edge of the rink, gaining confidence the longer he was on there.

Alan it seemed, much to their surprise, had inherited her grace on the ice and took to it easily, executing an almost perfect first lap before streaking off across the ice like a bullet.

Skating gave way to an impromptu snowball fight started by Scott aiming at Alan and finished by Grandma who pelted the troublemakers with snow while Virgil held them in place.

“How about we head inside and grab a warm drink before heading home?” Virgil suggested, shaking the snow off his shoulders, thankful that their uniforms protected them from such a wide range of weather conditions.

“That would be wonderful,” Grandma sighed happily as they walked towards the hotel.

“I want to thank you boys for such a lovely surprise. Much as I love our home it’s been nice to feel snow again and experience an old fashioned Christmas eve again after so long of endless summer.”

“You deserve it,” Scott assured her, draping an arm around her shoulders.

“Yeah, it was our pleasure,” Alan agreed, holding the still freely swinging door open for her.

Grandma experienced much the same wonder as they had as she enjoyed a tour of the hotel at the hands of the ever accommodating Felix, who had been more than happy to be her guide, showing her all the hotel had to offer.

It was beautiful, a true once in a lifetime winter wonderland of crystalline ice and exquisite sculpture that reminded her of the Lion the Witch and the Wardrobe, her favourite book as a child, when the White Witch had frozen all of Narnia in an endless winter.

Felix was happy to let her wander at her own pace, never trying to hurry her as she explored, her eyes taking in all there was to see. But, eventually, she grew tired and needed to rest, not being as young as her mind would have her believe. She was more than happy to be delivered back to her waiting grandsons with the promise of a hot chocolate in one of the warm rooms.

The function room was beautiful in its simplicity, decorated in a cozy cabin style with insulated fireplaces here and there which gave off no heat but looked perfect in the wood panelled room. There were comfy couches and wooden tables with rings of chairs dotted here and there, all arranged in a semi circle that faced towards the raised platform that was acting as a stage if the instruments there were any indication.

The room was still empty apart from five men sitting around a table, enjoying a quiet drink before the show started. They looked up expectantly when the door opened and the three Tracy boys led their special guest into the room.

Grandma had never been one to be lost for words before but there was a first time for everything and this appeared to be that time. She froze in the doorway, requiring a gentle nudge from Virgil to get her moving again. Her eyes were firmly fixed on one man as he put down his drink and moved towards them, a bright smile of welcome on his face.

“Hi there,” he started, holding out his hand, “I’m Cli-”

“Cliff Richard Jr!” Grandma shrieked, coming out of her starstruck daze to grab his hand between both of hers, yanking it closer, reeling him in for a smothering hug.

“Woah, easy there, Grandma!” Scott laughed as the singer’s arms flailed in shock. “Let the man breathe.”

Alan gently untangled Grandma’s arms from around Cliff, allowing him to back up and regain his freedom.

“So,” Cliff wheezed, straightening his tie and clearing his throat, regaining his composure before he bestowed upon her another dazzling smile. “Am I right in assuming you’ll be staying for the show?”

“You bet your ass I am.”

“Grandma!” all three boys yelped in shock but, thankfully, Cliff just laughed.

The music might not be to their tastes, in fact for Alan it was akin to torture, but seeing the look of joy on their Grandmother's face made it all worth it.

And wasn't that the true spirit of the season? Taking the time to think about others before you thought of yourself, spreading joy and happiness whenever you could.

Grandma was the heart of International Rescue, the heart of the house and the loving center of their family. She had always gone out of her way to look after them, now it was their turn to give something back to her. Something that she would never, ever forget.

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds 2015 #grandma tracy #Scott Tracy #John Tracy #alan tracy #Virgil Tracy #Gordon Tracy #willow-salix #secret santa 2020 #tag team secret santa

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