Fruit Roll

Lynne Gyeong was used to the night shift. Even when she was alive she would work it.

The difference between then and now, though, is that Lynne refused to leave the surveillance room back then and she’s stocking shelves and ringing customers out now.

Although work is tedious, it’s Lynne’s job as the assistant manager to get everything done that the zombie employees don’t get done. Which is quite literally everything than ringing people out. She doesn’t know how they’ve figured out how to do that and not stock shelves, but she’s not going to complain about it.

Today, she wears her Phantomart apron on top of her oversized purple jacket. Her beanie is tucked firmly over her head and she’s in a pair of comfortable sweat pants with a small hole torn in the back so her wall plug tail can move freely.

Lynne brushes a strand of hair out of her face while she looks over the canned food aisle. Everything seems to be in order. It’s… too organized. It’s out of the ordinary for the Phantomart. Perhaps the daytime workers did a better job than they usually do? She doesn’t know and she isn’t going to think too hard about it.

She goes back up and towards the front of the supermarket to help out a customer that seems to be lost before the walkie on her apron buzzes. The walkie is a direct line from Lynne to the cleaning crew and the ‘Supermanager’, the zombie who is in charge of the store. Lynne knows him better as Josh since he’s been her boyfriend of nearly three years now, but that relationship is usually put on the back burner on days when the Phantomart is busy. Even though Lynne knows this call is likely one that’s just business only, she can’t help but feel her wall plug tail begin to wag at the excitement of speaking to her boyfriend, who she is still head over heels for despite having been with him for so long.

Lynne quickly picks up the walkie and hums happily before speaking, “This is assistant manager Onn-Lynne. Can I help you with something?”

“Oh..! You were quick to answer this time. Are you not… busy right now?” Josh asks her over the walkie, making Lynne pause. That’s not a question that gets asked often. The tone he used isn’t typical either.

“No, I’m not busy.” She says as she leans onto the side of one of the register conveyor belts that’s shut down at the moment due to lack of staff who know how to handle money properly, “Why do you ask?”

There’s a thick moment of silence before Josh speaks again, “I need you back in my office. It’s important.” He claims.

Lynne raises an eyebrow, “Uhm, can I ask why? I’m not getting fired, right?”

“Oh! No, you’re not getting fired. I just need you back here for a moment!” He quickly says, making Lynne huff.

“Alright, but I have work to do so this had better not be a waste of my time.” She says despite the grin that started to form on her face.

She hangs up the walkie and clips it back onto her apron, then she heads towards the door located in the back of the store. It has a large ‘employees only’ sign that Lynne has always overlooked. Even if she weren’t an employee there any longer she would disregard that sign, as the majority of her last few years were spent hidden in the surveillance room. Her paranoia got the best of her and she locked herself away, not to be found until she had already died and Supermanager had found her new yo-kai form.

Lynne thinks often about the kindness he showed to her back then. How he was so gentle with his questions despite his large stature and evident strength. How he took her in close and helped her cut her hair and show her that the world isn’t as frightening when you’re a yo-kai. Of course, the fact that she had died like she was so afraid of messed her up for a little while, but she was able to take her second chance and embrace it in her new, less fleshy body.

Although she’s sure that there were once organs within her body, there’s now only a tangle of machinery that somewhat resembles the guts that used to be there. She liked her new body much better, especially with the fondness for machinery that she held when she was alive. That, paired with the fact that her body could still feel every touch, made her current form almost disgustingly ideal, as if it were gifted to her from God himself.

Lynne pushed the door to the back room open and she wandered towards Supermanager’s office, the one that sat ominously close to the meat freezer. She knocked twice on the door, then opened it, and shut it right behind her.

“I’m here now.” Lynne says as she pulls her hands away from the slightly dented doorknob, “What’s this meeting about?”

Josh’s eyes meet hers’ and he offers a slight, shaky grin, “We haven’t had time to ourselves in a while. I wanted to talk, I guess.” He mumbles sheepishly, making Lynne smile. For a man so large, he could certainly be shy at times.

“Is that all? What do you want to talk about, then?” Lynne asks as she sits down onto one of the chairs in the room.

Unfortunately, though, she wasn’t quite paying attention and she tumbles off of the metal chair and she hits her side on the table. She clatters to the ground and makes a small ‘oof’ sound.

Supermanager fumbles to his feet and he goes to help her up, but she holds her hand out to stop him. Gently, she tugs the very bottom of her shirt up and she sighs at the sight of the panel on her stomach being visibly busted open. The locked latch is cracked and it’s more than likely Lynne will have to order the part to fix herself online, and who knows how long that’ll take…

“Of course. Just what I need.” Lynne mumbles as she finally takes Supermanager’s hand for him to help her up, “It’ll be days before I can fix this.” She claims.

“Oh…” Supermanager frowns, “Maybe you should head into the surveillance room and take a small break from work after this. I’ll be in to check on you in a little while, okay?” He says with a small grin.

Lynne nods, but she sighs, “Yeah, yeah… that’s probably a good idea. Wouldn’t want my guts getting snagged on anything.” She mumbles with a small laugh.

Supermanager then gives her a kiss on the forehead and he sends her on her way, concern evident in his features.

The sun soon began to show over the horizon and the majority of the zombies working in the Phantomart returned to the graveyard near the East Pine Church. Supermanager remained behind until an hour before the morning shift people were set to arrive. He then crept into the surveillance room, which doubled as the bedroom he shared with Lynne.

He changed into some pajama like clothing and he locked the door to the room before sitting down onto the bed next to Lynne, who was sitting up and fidgeting with the panel located on her stomach, repeatedly flicking the latch back and forth.

Gently, Josh sat his hand over the panel, making Lynne pause.

“You’re going to break it more if you keep that up. Doesn’t it hurt?” He asks with a faint frown, still rightfully concerned for his girlfriend.

“No, actually.” Lynne shrugs, “It doesn’t.”

“What… does it feel like?” Josh quietly asks, a more confused look replacing the concerned one from earlier.

“The latch doesn’t feel like anything. It’s just there.” She says, “And flipping the panel back and forth just sort of feels like moving a joint.”

A thought crosses Josh’s mind all of a sudden and he swallows thickly, ashamed that the thought was so appealing to him. He wondered what it would be like to stick his hand into the panel, rub his hand across Lynne’s wiry guts. Perhaps grab a handful, maybe yank on them some as if disemboweling a creature. He can’t help having the thought, he’s a zombie. He could have stopped himself from saying the thought out loud, though.

“Lynne,” He quickly says, a soft blush taking over his cheeks, “could I, uhm, maybe take a small feel of your wires? Just a quick one.” He says, embarrassed at the thought of requesting such a strange thing.

Lynne blinks a few times, but she shrugs and gently moves the panel aside, “Go ahead. I trust you to not be rough.” She mumbles softly, a bit flustered at the idea of having one of his large hands stuffed inside the panel on her belly.

Josh takes a deep breath before he shifts himself over Lynne. He then gently reaches into the panel. Slowly, he rubs two fingers over the first wire he sees. All of a sudden, Lynne allows a soft whimper past her lips and her hand shoots up to cover her mouth out of embarrassment. Her reaction was not expected. Not by either of them.

“O-kay.” Lynne mumbles softly, “I wasn’t expecting whatever you did to feel like that.”

For a moment, the two of them are quiet, then Lynne grabs onto the arm Josh has shoved into the open panel and she stares him in the eyes, “I don’t know what you did, but you NEED to do it again. Or do something else. I don’t know. Just… work whatever magic you just worked.” She huffs.

At Lynne’s request, Josh seems to gain some confidence. Instead of just gently messing with one wire, he stuffs his hand the rest of the way into the open panel, grabbing a large, plastic feeling tube within Lynne. He presses his thumb into it and rubs up and down, earning a sound from Lynne that was less of a whimper and more of a moan this time around.

The yo-kai could barely get enough of the sensation. Josh gripping her wires and internal tubes was wonderful to start. She never realized that this sort of sensation existed. It made her body buzz and crackle with both excitement and electricity, the same electricity that held her current form together. It was invigorating, almost as if every time Josh pressed his thumb into her guts it was giving her a boost of life.

That feeling, combined with the disgustingly pleasant feeling of having his large hand stuffed in her panel made Lynne overwhelmed in the most pleasant way possible. The way she could feel his fingers move against her insides, the feeling of being stuffed but not full… it drove her mad.

Josh was more or less like a man on a mission now. He had moved onto a different tube, one that was more reminiscent of those on a vacuum cleaner, and he had begun to massage it in deep, pressured circles. Inspired by the noises Lynne was making, Josh actually managed to get his other hand into her panel despite the tight squeeze. With his other free hand, he gently grabbed bunches of wire and messed with them, pulling them back and forth enough to make Lynne feel it fully but not enough so that it hurts her.

At the feeling of the second hand entering her panel, Lynne grabs onto the sides of the all too small mattress, the one that barely held the two of them unless they were directly on top of each other. She groans loudly, throwing her head back against the grungy pillow present in their shared room.

Josh then pulls his hands out of the panel and, as if he knows what exactly to do, he leans down and sits his face into the opening and he grips onto some of the wires with his teeth, gently biting and yanking.

Lynne grabs onto the back of his head, her fingers latching onto a handful of his green hair. She pulls him closer, fitting what she can of his face into the open space. Josh continues to pull and yank, eventually getting his head out of the box with wires still clenched in his teeth.

Lynne will NEVER forget seeing him like that. It may be the hottest thing she’s ever seen.

Sadly, their moment didn’t last very long after that, as lights outside of the surveillance room began to flicker on.

Josh immediately places all of Lynne’s wires back into her panel and he tugs her pajama shirt down. He then lifts her into his arms and hugs her tightly, wanting to make sure that she wouldn’t get her wires tangled with him in the middle of the night.

Things were a mess. At least in Fruit’s eyes.

The Ghoulfather was gone. Dead as a doornail.

The UFO he was flying in was blasted out of the sky more quickly than anyone could have expected. He also wasn’t rescued from the rubble of where it had hit. Fruit was certain he was dead.

It had patched itself up, but there was lots still left to do, especially with this new development. The only two people Fruit knew that it had seen were Rongo Swirll and Calne Cairene, who both looked worse for wear. Fruit hadn’t directly gotten into a scuffle like Rongo had nor had it taken damage because of The Ghoulfather’s death like Calne did, but it had still gotten into a few fights with yo-kai who were mistaken about its stance on The Ghoulfather. It didn’t care if he was dethroned or not, and it definitely didn’t want him to take over the Yo-Kai World, but they also didn’t want him to die.

Fruit pushed through the broken trees and scattered, upset bugs on their floor. They shoved themself into the elevator and quickly hit the button for the top floor as they slump against the side of the machine. They hope they don’t stop anywhere on the way up, as they are now on a mission, since they had escaped with their life.

They needed to find their partner. Agent X. The Executor. Injaneno. Whatever they wanted to call him at the time. Regardless, they needed to find him, especially since they had caught word from other yo-kai about him getting into another fight with the group of twelve year olds that had been beating him down with their yo-kai friends for ages now. They were worried. Extremely so. They feared he met a similar fate to The Ghoulfather and they hoped and prayed that he would be okay because they didn’t want to lose him.

When they got to the top floor, they swiftly moved out of the elevator and began to search the floor. Splotches of blood and purple goop made them even more nervous. They began to fear that they may find Agent X as a corpse rather than as a living man.

Thankfully, they manage to locate a trail into a shut closet that Fruit is certain came from Agent X. They slam on the door and quickly take their hat off their head so they can inspect him thoroughly when they get into the room. A soft ‘what..?’ is heard through the door and Fruit tears it open then shuts it behind themself once they realize that it’s actually Agent X behind the door.

They crouch down next to him and their breath hitches at the pitiful sight their partner is in.

Blood had seeped through the front of his thick, black coat and was noticeable despite the fabric’s dark color. He was cut in many places and shot plenty with that accursed blaster the boy Nate was carrying around. He was still actively bleeding from a wound in his stomach, and Fruit knew that’s what it had to take care of first.

Fruit fumbles for the light and they quickly slip off their t-shirt and sit it on top of the wound present on his belly, trying to apply pressure to stop the bleeding. Gently, Agent X reaches up and brushes some of Fruit’s hair out of their face. His stoic expression turns to a smile at the sight of them caring so much about him.

“Sweet pea…” He quietly addresses it as its black eyes focus on his wound, “I will be just fine, despite the EXcruciating pain. I have been through much worse.” He claims.

Fruit shakes their head, “I know that, I just need to get you in good enough condition to get you out of here. We can’t stay in the Bada-Bing Tower. Not anymore.” They say, their pale hands slowly becoming muddled with Agent X’s blood.

Agent X tilts his head slightly, “We… can’t? Why not? This is our home, Fruit. One small incident is not going to make me EXit my home.” He mumbles, then winces as Fruit pushes a little bit more firmly on the wound on his belly.

“I don’t want to tell you why, but I’m not going to keep any sort of secret from you.” They mumble, then take a sharp breath in through their noise, “The Ghoulfather was defeated. He’s dead. The UFO crashed in BBQ and the only people who escaped from it were the kids, their yo-kai, and the two adults who wandered on there on accident. He’s gone and we can’t stay in this place he owns anymore or we will be in big trouble.” Fruit says, intentionally keeping their gaze away from Agent X’s face.

Agent X’s breath hitches and his hand clenches almost immediately. He stares at Fruit in disbelief, his weakened body beginning to shake, “You’re… joking, right?” He quietly asks, tears beginning to well up in his yellow eyes. He can’t lose the man who took him in and raised him. The Ghoulfather was more like a father figure to him than the man who gave him part of his DNA ever was. Every single thing he ever did after he was taken in was for The Ghoulfather.

Fruit shakes their head and bites their tongue, “I’m not joking. I’m sorry.” They whisper, “I’m sorry. I am so, so sorry.”

A sob escapes Agent X’s lips. He shoves his forehead against Fruit’s shoulder, and almost immediately, Fruit takes him into their arms. Quietly, they try to comfort him and make soft shushing sounds.

“Inja…” Fruit mumbles softly, “I know… I know things are bad. I’m sorry you lost him. I’m so sorry.” They say, “We need to go, though. We really, really need to leave.”

They gently cup his cheek and pull his face up to meet their gaze, “I don’t blame you for crying, but we should go. I have a place we can stay. Please, let’s just… keep it together until we can get there. Please.”

Faintly, Agent X nods. At his confirmation, Fruit helps him up off the ground and takes him towards the elevator and to the bottom floor where a Mirapo is waiting.

The next few hours are a blank for both Fruit and Agent X.

The two of them ended up at the Phantomart, where Fruit’s friend Supermanager works. They’re ushered inside by Onn-Lynne, his girlfriend, and taken to a warm room where the two of them can stay for as long as they need.

The bed is set up and Onn-Lynne grabs spare sets of clothing for Fruit and Agent X while Fruit cleans him up.

Once Agent X is bandaged up fully and in a clean set of clothing, Fruit gets him underneath the blankets and they position his head on their lap, their slender fingers rubbing through his long, newly cleaned green hair.

He had been sniffling the whole time, and once in Fruit’s soft arms, he begins to cry silently into their lap. His silence is unusual and Fruit is only alerted to his crying by the feeling of tears soaking the pants that Onn-Lynne brought for them.

“Inja…” Fruit softly addresses him as they lean a bit closer to him, their fingers still softly running through his hair, “It’s okay. I know things seem dire and terrible right now, but everything is okay. You have your life and that’s what matters.” They whisper, trying to comfort him despite the fact that they’re terrible at it.

“I know, but…” The yo-kai is cut off by a sniffle, “The Ghoulfather- the man who raised me -is gone. Just like that. He is dead. He’s not in space anymore. They EXecuted him and there was nothing I could do to help!” He exclaims, squeezing his eyes shut.

Fruit frowns and bends down to place a kiss on his cheek. They don’t know how to comfort him. Frankly, they believe he’s inconsolable right now. They feel awful for him but don’t know how to help.

They decide that the best course of action is to let him cry it out, so they go quiet but allow for Agent X to continue lying on their lap. Gently, they split his hair into three different portions and begin to make a braid with it, an action that has been known to soothe Agent X in the past.

Agent X nuzzles his cheek more firmly into the thigh he has his head on and he tries to focus on the feeling of Fruit’s hands in his hair. He’s distraught, but feeling a bit better in the moment.

Slowly, he reaches up and takes one of Fruit’s hands in his. Finally, their black eyes meet his and they frown softly, “I’m really sorry that he’s gone. And I’m sorry there’s nothing that either of us could do. And I’m sorry that we had to leave our home.” Fruit shakes their head, lifting Agent X’s hand to their lips and pressing a soft, gentle kiss to it.

Agent X shakes his head, a few tears still finding their way down his cheeks, “Don’t apologize. You have nothing to be sorry for. I love you, Fruit. We’ll EXplore this new part of our lives and make it through. Together.” He whispers, gently squeezing their hand.

Fruit hesitates, but they nod and nuzzle their cheek against his hand, “I love you too, Injaneno, and I’m with you ‘till the end.” They whisper.

More often than not, it was quiet on the fifty-sixth floor of the Bada-Bing Tower. The only noises being made on the regular were the chirps of various insect species, a soft voice occasionally cooing at said insects, and the whirring of the tall tower’s elevator as it took someone past the floor.

Floor fifty-six was titled ‘The Bug Floor’ for obvious reasons. It was an insectarium full of wonderful insects, arthropods, and arachnids. Some of the best the human world had to offer, in fact.

Its curator, a yo-kai named Awleyes who insisted upon being called Fruit, was its only resident besides the bugs. That, combined with the lack of visitors to the fifty-sixth floor, kept the room quiet, peaceful, and nature like.

Today, Fruit returns from an expedition to obtain more insects that went very poorly. It heads up the elevator and into its floor, its steps tired and dragging across the floor.

The elevator opens and the false night displayed on the screens in the room itch at the back of Fruit’s mind, making them even more tired. They yawn and wander their way towards the small room located towards the back of the insectarium where they sleep and perform hobbies that are not related to insects.

They slowly open the door to their room and gently shut it, watching for any stray insects that may wander their way into their sacred bedroom.

It then turns around and pauses. Sitting on the edge of its bed in a pair of sleep pants and a hoodie that doesn’t belong to him is Agent X, better known to Fruit by his true name, Injaneno. He’s reading a book and seems undisturbed by Fruit interrupting his unprompted time in their bedroom.

Fruit blinks a few times underneath its Nihilego inspired hat, then they sit their hands onto their hips, “You certainly gave me a scare. What are you doing in my bedroom?” It asks him.

“Is this not our shared bedroom? Or do we only share my bedroom.” Injaneno says, “It would be EXceptionally cruel to kick your partner out.”

Fruit shrugs, “That isn’t the issue I have. The issue I have is that you jumpscared me and are just… sitting in here. I’ve been on Earth for four days now. How long have you been lingering in here for?”

Injaneno pauses, then sheepishly grins despite how strange said grin looks on his face, “I have remained on the insect floor for two days and nights now.” He claims, “The scent that stuck to your mattress was EXtremely comforting.”

Fruit grins faintly, then they kick off their shoes and sit down next to Injaneno, “Hearing that from you is nice. Did you miss me that much? The Ghoulfather would have let you come with me if you would’ve asked.”

He shrugs, “Although you are a wonderful EXample for a bug catcher, I fear I would startle all of your insect friends and leave you in EXtreme trouble with The Ghoulfather.”

“I wouldn’t get in trouble.” Fruit casually shrugs, “I didn’t catch any bugs this time around and he’s just fine with that. Some hunts are better than others, and at the very least, having you around for them would be comforting if I can’t get any bugs.”

Injaneno sighs and goes to speak, but he’s cut off by Fruit flopping onto his chest and nuzzling the top of their head underneath his chin.

“Dork.” Fruit mumbles, “Just ask if you can come with next time. I’ll teach you how to sneak up on bugs.”

He huffs and wraps an arm around its waist, pulling it closer to him, “Sweet pea, you are speaking to the same man who shouted so loud at that cursed watch holder that he broke a naturally formed stone bridge. Quieting my EXcitement will not be an easy task by any means.”

“I know that, but I’m prepared to handle that oh so difficult task so that we can go on missions together.” Fruit mumbles, “You’ve been so busy lately with all these schemes to stop those kids who are trifling with The Ghoulfather’s scheme to return to the Yo-Kai World that we haven’t had any time to just be… us.” It mumbles with a small frown.

Injaneno blinks a few times. He’s not used to Fruit using that sort of tone. They sound really upset, if he can interpret them properly. Gently, he reaches up and rubs his hand through their short white hair.

“I know.” He says with a soft sigh, “Neither of us have had enough time for each other, and with The Ghoulfather returning soon, I doubt we’ll have much time for each other in the EXtended future.” He mumbles, “But I’ll try to make time for you. I’ll take a break from chasing down those brats. Even if it’s EXcruciating.”

He then places a kiss onto Fruit’s forehead, making it hum happily, “Good. And I’ll call off of my next mission. We’ll just have a few days to ourselves and it’ll be great.”

Injaneno nods, a faint smile taking over his features, “Yes. That does sound like it’ll be EXcellent.” He says as he holds Fruit tightly in his arms.

It storms often during the spring in Springdale.

These storms are dangerous for the residents of the Shopper’s Row region because of the poor infrastructure and lack of change from overhead power cables to underground power cables.

This is especially unfortunate for Chorus Bey, who is a resident of Shopper’s Row. He works across town at the Everymart from his apartment and he doesn’t have the money for public transport nor for a car of his own.

Thankfully, he works close to the abandoned Nocturne Hospital where he is allowed full access since he may or may not know the resident evil doctor who resides there.

Tonight, Chorus was working the graveyard shift. When he got off of work, he stepped through the automatic doors and peered up at the sky. Rain poured down and thunder rang out from the distance. As is typical for him, he had forgotten his umbrella.

Quickly, Chorus bolted out of the shop and down the street towards the crumbling hospital. Right as he rounded the corner towards the entrance, he lost his footing and tripped, slamming his head onto the concrete road. He completely blacked out.

When he woke up, he was lying on a familiar couch. He blinked a few times and sat up, using one of his hands to rub his eyes.

As he adjusted to the slightly lighter environment, he hears a sigh from across the room.

“You should be more careful. I can’t always go out and rescue you.” A deep, slightly aggravated and slightly soft voice mumbles.

Chorus turns his head and grins. Dr. Maddiman, his slightly strange boyfriend, had left his lab to go out and get him. That’s not typical for him, not by any means. More often than not, Maddiman doesn’t even feel like peeking out of his lab. Chorus wonders what made him notice that he had hit his head, but he doesn’t dwell too long on it.

“I’m surprised.” Chorus says as he wipes his wet, black hair out of his face, “Anybody else woulda just left me out there. Thanks for coming to my rescue, Madz.”

Chorus stands up and heads across the bland floor to where Maddiman is working on something. As usual, Chorus sits his chin onto his shoulder and watches as the strange yo-kai works with a collection of syringes.

“Your visits are becoming more frequent.” Maddiman says, not taking his eyes away from the mess of plastic and metal on the table, “Not that I’m complaining. I assume you don’t have anything better to do.” The large yo-kai says.

Chorus shrugs, “It’s April and it always storms more this time of year.” He says, “I can’t get back home when it’s thundering out. So I come here instead! Since this is more or less like your home and I’m allowed in your home.” He claims.

“You’ve been staying up all night these last couple nights. You have no bed here. You should deal with the rain and go home.” Maddiman says, finally lifting his head to look up at the man, “I don’t want for something to happen to you because of exhaustion.”

“I don’t need to sleep. I’ll be just fine!” He points to his chest and exclaims in a confident tone, but it’s clear that Maddiman isn’t buying it.

The yo-kai huffs and sits what he was working on down, then he turns around and scoops the significantly smaller man into his arms.

Chorus blinks a few times and peers up towards Maddiman’s face, a soft, pink flush forming on his freckled cheeks, “Uhm, what are you doing? Don’t drop me.”

“I’m not going to drop you. And I’m going to make you get some rest.” He says as he lumbers away from his work desk and sits down onto the old, mildly dirty couch that Chorus was just lying on. He then moves into the lying down position, trapping Chorus in his large arms.

“Hey! I always tell you that you should sleep but I never force you to do it! Let me go!” Chorus exclaims, but he yawns and pauses. It’s not every day that he gets the chance to be held like this. He should take advantage of the opportunity. He doesn’t quite realize that’s Maddiman’s plan, though.

He grumbles inaudibly for a moment, then he snuggles into the embrace and shuts his eyes, “I’ll sleep here just this once.” He mumbles reluctantly, earning the faintest of grins from Maddiman.

Everything had fallen apart.

The Ghoulfather was killed in battle and the Bada-Bing tower had fallen into disarray.

Many had fled. Escaped Enma’s eventual wrath upon the tower. They were lucky.

Others like The Executor and Awleyes would be given a pass due to their histories. Awleyes was collecting bugs and not causing any real problems for the yo-kai world and The Executor would be alright because he didn’t know anything beyond the Ghoulfamily and had no chance to escape. They were also lucky.

Calne Cairene, better known as Zomgirl, was not as lucky.

When she had met the Ghoulfather, Calne’s dream was to run an archive. At that point in time, her zombie body was being held together by enchanted stitches, sewn by an ancient yokai who took pity upon her. They were not built to last long, though, and Calne assumed she would not live more than five or so more years despite being granted more life after being chopped to pieces. The Ghoulfather told her that he adored her dream and would employ her in his tower. He then enchanted her further, making sure that her stitches would hold together as long as he was alive, which he expected to be forever.

It was not forever.

Zomgirl sat on the floor of her archive. The place had been destroyed. Books strewn everywhere. Shelves pushed over. Zomgirl’s body was no different. Her arms were slack from the stitches holding her together having stretched and left her feeling like a doll with a ripped seam. Her breathing was shallow and she was ready to finally let death take her.

Seven hundred years was a long time to live despite not really having achieved anything. She just sat like a librarian, reading countless amounts of books. She fell in love and had a wonderful sort of friends with benefits relationship with the man she was in love with for quite some time before it fell through. She was more of a joke or a trophy to be claimed by her fellow coworkers. Her only friends were the Ghoulfather and Awleyes, who would often visit the archive but not often enough that Zomgirl felt close to them.

Zomgirl shuts her eyes. She didn’t know how long she had been there and she didn’t understand why death wouldn’t take her sooner. Her body was ready to give up and so was her mind. So why wouldn’t she die?

She hears the door to the archive creak open and she sighs. With barely enough energy to move, Zomgirl manages to tilt her head up towards the entrance.

Standing there is Rongo Swirll, her ex situationship. Frankly, she had hoped that it was Enma more than Rongo, as Enma would swiftly execute her rather than just tease her like Rongo would.

But instead of seeming to feel joy at her misery, Rongo seems… concerned.

“Calne?” Rongo asks in a soft voice that Zomgirl hadn’t heard in ages. Not since they slept together last. She missed that soft tone. She thought she’d never hear it again.

She opens her mouth to speak to him but she coughs instead. Her body is ready to fall apart and she’s well aware of it. Rongo doesn’t seem aware of this fact, though, and he rushes over to her.

“Wh- what’s going on?? I’ve never seen your stitches like this outside of battle!” He exclaims.

At Zomgirl’s lack of reply, Rongo frowns, “I’ve gotta get you out of here. I know you don’t want to see me and I don’t really wanna see you, but I can at least help you out.”

Before she could even protest, she’s scooped into the smaller man’s arms. He guides her head to his chest and frowns at the feeling of her faint trembling.

Seeing Zomgirl like this makes Rongo contemplate his previous decisions. The feeling of caring about her makes him feel like a sap, but it also makes him feel… happy. His heart flutters and he pushes the feeling down. He can’t let these newfound feelings to get the best of him, not when Zomgirl is clearly about to die.

Rongo brings Zomgirl to the place he had been hiding out at since the news of the Ghoulfather’s death had reached the yo-kai world.

Gently, he lies Zomgirl onto his designated bed. He brushes her hair out of her face and frowns, contemplating how he could help her. Her stitches were made from the Ghoulfather’s powers and Rongo had no clue how to replicate that.

He quickly stands up and rubs his palm against his forehead, “I’m gonna try something but I can’t guarantee it’ll work. Hold on a little longer, Calne. Even if I can’t save you, I’ll find someone who can.”

As Rongo rushes out, Zomgirl manages a faint grin. Despite the crippling pain she’s in at the moment, she feels… cared for. And warm. She feels her feelings for Rongo returning despite the rejection she’s received from him in the past. She ignores the feelings, trying to focus on staying alive.

Rongo returns with a spool of thread and a needle. He crouches down next to Zomgirl and he sighs, “This is gonna hurt. For that, I’m sorry.”

Swiftly, Rongo uses the plain thread to sew Zomgirl back together. Despite her lack of energy, Zomgirl whimpers and yelps at the pain, the hand she has still attached to her body clenching to the sheets of Rongo’s bed.

It takes at least an hour for Rongo to see Zomgirl back together. By the time that he’s done, the usually tough girl is in tears, but movement has returned to every piece of her body.

Hesitantly, Rongo sits down next to her and places his hand onto her back, “You’re okay now.” He whispers as Zomgirl continues her slight trembling.

The continual usage of his gentle tone just makes Zomgirl’s tears fall faster. Slowly, she wraps her frail arms around the yo-kai, and although he paused at first, Rongo reciprocated, locking the two of them into a surprisingly gentle embrace.

“I’m sorry.” Zomgirl manages to whisper, her tears falling onto Rongo’s tailored yellow suit, “For making you deal with me again. And for everything else I’ve put you through.” She chokes out.

Rongo quickly shakes his head, “What?? I should be the one who is apologizing! I’ve been… thinking a lot lately.” The man mumbles, “And I realized that… my cruelty to you, especially as of recently, has been unnecessary. I… love you, Calne. And I was scared to admit it. I’m sorry.” He says in reply to her.

Zomgirl freezes, then the tears start up once more. She sobs, managing to mumble faint ‘I love you too’s regardless of her lack of energy and voice being affected by the tears.

Rongo soothingly rubs a hand through her long hair. All that matters to him right now is that Zomgirl is safe. He’s so happy that he found her. Even if it was under unfortunate circumstances.

Calne tapped the ash off her cigarette. She peered into the sky from the rooftop of the Phantomart, the place where she and her situationship, famous Yo-Kai drummer Rongo Swirll, had been staying for a few weeks after having to run away from the Yo-Kai World. The collapse of the Ghoulfamily was devastating for many, especially Calne and Rongo, who were highly involved in the Ghoulfamily’s inner workings. Calne had actually been being held alive by the Ghoulfather’s powers before he was killed and she almost fell to pieces (in the literal sense), but Rongo was able to save her in time before her body collapsed. Now she’s being run by the same thing that keeps zombies up and going, truly warranting the hated nickname ‘Zomgirl’ that she received years and years ago.

Using the back of her hand, Calne brushed a stray piece of pale blonde hair out of her face and put it behind her ear. She leaned onto the railing and sighed heavily as the deep colored sky was her main focus. She wasn’t necessarily miserable, just struggling with her lack of freedom and the IV drip that stuck in her arm like an evil reminder of how close she was to losing her life. Most days, she’s so weak she can’t stand up, but today is a day where she feels more or less fine, so she took advantage of the opportunity.

She brushes her skirt down and turns her head slightly when she hears someone approaching her from the metal ladder to the highest point on the roof. Her eyes meet the black ones of Onn-Lynne the s-rank yo-kai who had taken residence in the Phantomart in death. Calne disliked her, but she couldn’t deny how appreciative she was for her and her partner, Supermanager, for letting her and Rongo Stay there on such short notice.

Onn-Lynne sat her hands onto her hips and frowned, her wall plug tail flicking back and forth in a way that implied to Calne that she was annoyed.

Calne sighed and shifted her weight from one of her feet to the other, her brown loafers making a shuffling sound on the poorly made building. She drops her cigarette to the ground and stomps it out, then twirled her fingers around her IV drip and spoke.

“Lynne,” She addressed the woman with purple hair, “I know what that face means. What did I do this time?”

Onn-Lynne huffed, “Not you this time, believe it or not!” She says, “Joshie told me that your… whatever he is, green guy, won’t leave him alone and let him work because he’s looking for you.” Onn-Lynne then bit her tongue and her unusual frown deepened, “That and he’s tired of getting employees to clean up the bathrooms after him.”

Calne sighed, “Really? Do I need to know what he’s doing in the bathrooms? He’s lactose intolerant, it probably has something to do with that. Just have Supermanager put locks on the cheese cases at night.” She replies, semi-apathetically in traditional Zomgirl fashion.

“Not what I meant.” Onn-Lynne says, “He’s puking, CC. All over the employee bathrooms. Projectile style.” She says, “And Joshie has already put locks on the cheese cases so that can’t be the issue. Zombies and their inability to keep their hands to themselves made him do it.” She sighs.

Calne shoots her a glare at that last comment but she shrugs her shoulders, “Then it’s probably just a stomach bug. I wouldn’t worry too much about it. I’m sure it’s nothing to worry about.”

“Whatever you say. I’m just telling you what I was told to tell you.” Onn-Lynne sighs, “Oh, and morning is coming soon. You’ll probably want to get down from the roof and get some rest. Regular human customers will be piling in and I know you don’t want to be seen.”

Calne nods, “You’re right.” She says before she heads towards the metal ladder with Onn-Lynne following behind her.

The back of the Phantomart is where most yo-kai who have taken up residence there reside. Supermanager and Onn-Lynne live in the surveillance room, since Onn-Lynne is often too paranoid to sleep anywhere else. They have a quaint little bedroom set up in there and they’ve lived quite fine in the room because of the air conditioning and the lack of human visitors the room gets because Onn-Lynne still disguises herself as a human and works there as store surveillance.

On the other hand, Rongo and Calne have been staying in a broom closet with a mattress poorly stuffed inside of it. Calne has a pile of blankets she stole from the Phantomart to keep herself warm in the dark, concrete room that Rongo usually ignores. The two of them sleep on opposites sides of the bed despite their relationship, only touching and brushing when nights become hot and charged.

Tonight, though, Calne gets changed into her comfortable pajamas and slips underneath her pile of covers, expecting to be met with loneliness and silence, but instead, an arm is wrapped around her waist. Calne jolts and sits up, shifting to face Rongo who was next to her.

“And what was that about?” Calne asks, “Isn’t it a bit late for you to be making a move on me?” She asks with a small laugh.

Rongo shrugs and laughs a bit in return, “It’s never too late for a fun night, love, but I just thought I would… change things up.”

Calne scoffed, “That’s unlike you. And Onn-Lynne told me that Supermanager had been complaining about you being sick. Caught a bug or something?” She asks as she lies back down in bed, facing Rongo this time around.

Rongo shrugs, “Don’t think so. I just don’t think this human food’s been treating me right.” He replies, “Nothing for you to concern your pretty face with.”

Calne sighs endearingly, one of her hands reaching down to stroke a hand through his hair, “The flattery really makes me think you’re sick. You should get some rest, maybe you’ll feel better in the morning.”

Rongo nods and nuzzles his head into her chest, an action that is so unlike him that Calne is taken aback. She sits her arms around him and tries to get comfortable, tucking the significantly shorter man underneath the covers that they haven’t shared in the past.

In the morning, Rongo wakes with a start. He shoves himself out of Calne’s arms and rushes towards the nearest restroom which so happens to be the employee one that Supermanager had been repeatedly upset about the cleanliness of.

As he had been the last couple days, he threw up, at least making it to the toilet this time. From the room next to him, a sigh is heard from Supermanager, who has already learned well what the sound of puking from the employee toilet means.

From behind the door, wheels grind against the concrete flooring. A shaky knock rings through the employee restroom, followed by a soft voice, “Rongo? It’s so early. Are you alright?” She then pauses, “No, actually, that’s a dumb question.” She sighs, “You are sick, aren’t you? No one throws up multiple days in a row and isn’t sick.”

The door then clicks open and the woman drags her IV into the employee restroom. She then crouches down next to Rongo and sits a hesitant, still shaky hand onto his back, “You haven’t been sick in forever. I’m really concerned that something may be actually wrong with you.”

Rongo shoves her hand off of him, “I am not sick, Zomgirl. I’m fine. F-I-N-E. I’ve never been in BBQ before and something in the water or food has to be messing with me! There’s no other possible situation where I would be feeling like this!”

Calne bites her tongue, her old codename making her feel a bit defensive. Rongo only uses that name with her when he wants to be cruel to her. Her kindness and concern is being rejected in a Rongo typical way, and every time he does something along those lines it makes her fume every time.

“Idiot! You don’t puke like that if you’re being affected by a region change! You need to go see a doctor or something! Or at least have one come here and look at you!” She exclaims with wide eyes, trying her best to not grind her sharp teeth together while she argues with him.

“Oh, shut it. I’m fine. Leave me be for now. I’ll be fine by tomorrow! I’m sure of it.” The man hisses out, prompting Calne to stand up and angrily drag her IV out of the room.

The door opens and Supermanager and Onn-Lynne, who were standing outside of the employee restroom to listen in on the drama happening between Calne and Rongo, jolt at the sight of Calne. Although Onn-Lynne pretends as if she wasn’t doing anything suspicious, Supermanager frowns and looks Calne up and down.

“Zomgirl…” The large but socially meek zombie mumbles with a hand on his chin, “Maybe you could use a drink. We have beer in stock here. I’ll go grab you a case.” He says as he turns away from Calne and heads towards the store’s employee entrance.

Calne huffs and heads towards her room with a start. Although she appreciates Supermanager’s offer to bring her beer, a couple drinks are not going to improve her mood.

A few hours pass and Rongo had locked himself in the restroom. Calne, despite having a high alcohol tolerance, is drunk in the broom closet after two and a half six packs of beer.

Rongo had been thinking for a little while and had been going over other possible reasons for his sudden onset illness in his mind. He was struggling to come up with anything other than the region change theory until he recalled that, not too long ago, on one of their romantic nights, Rongo and Calne hadn’t been all that… safe with their evening activities, and yo-kai anatomy doesn’t quite work like humans’ do and either gender can bear children under the correct circumstances.

When the thought crosses his mind, he gags and immediately stands to his feet. He can’t possibly be with child. He always assumed that Calne would be the one out of the two of them to carry any children they would ever have, but that may not be the case now that Rongo is thinking deeply about it.

Rongo rushes out of the restroom and towards the broom closet he and Calne shares. He whips the door to it open and pauses when he sees Calne sitting on the edge of the bed with a collection of empty bottles around her.

He frowns and completely forgets about his theory, storming up to her and sitting his hands on his hips, “And WHAT are you doing??”

“Drinking.” Calne plainly replies, “Supermanager suggested it, since you were being a fool.”

Rongo throws his hands up, “We argue and your first idea is to drink?! Zomgirl, you’re so irrational! Such a-“

He’s cut off by Zomgirl rapidly standing up, shoving her IV tube out of the way, and lobbing a brown colored bottle at Rongo. The first one misses and shatters against the wall, but Rongo is not as lucky with the second bottle that gets lobbed at him. It hits him in one of his horns and breaks, dropping glass all over him.

“Don’t call me names!” Calne shouts, pointing a shaky finger at him before lobbing a third bottle towards her situationship.

Rongo yelps and tries to shield his face, “Calne! Calne, calm down!” He shouts, “You’re right! At least halfway! About me not just adjusting to the region change! I think!” He exclaims, prompting Zomgirl to hesitate in throwing the next bottle.

She sits the empty bottle back down onto the ground and crosses her arms, “Okay, go on..?” She prompts.

Nervously, Rongo fidgets with his hands, “I don’t think I’m sick.” He says, which makes Calne reach for a bottle once again, but before she can grab it, he quickly sputters, “I think I’m pregnant!”

Almost immediately, Zomgirl grabs the next bottle and lobs it at Rongo, “Are you messing with me?! This isn’t funny!” She exclaims.

As the bottle crashes against him, Rongo winces, “No, I’m being serious!” He exclaims, “I really think that’s what’s going on!”

Zomgirl then stops. She pauses, then sighs, “I guess that’s happening, then. I still want you out of the room right now, though.” She says.

Rongo gives her a look, but he reluctantly gives in, “Alright, fine, but we have to talk about this later.”

Calne nods and goes back to her third case of beer, “Yeah, sure. Just later.”

- Because of how busy Imu is being the literal King of the World, it’s not often that he gets time with his wife, but when he does, he’s doting in a casual way.

- Despite how he seems, Imu isn’t flashy when it comes to his relationships. The biggest announcement he made about you was at your wedding to the Saints.

- Because of Imu’s coldness and elusiveness, the Saints were surprised that he was able to find a wife who suits him well… especially one that actually WANTED to be with him.

- He could have any woman within the world and yet he chose you. Goodness, that thought makes you feel special. And he likes to remind you how special you really are.

- When Imu isn’t around, you live in his palace as the most important person within those walls.

- He has an entire staff of people dedicated just to making your life easy. Maids and butlers who clean up for you after your every movement and cooks that work tirelessly to make all of your favorite dishes are just some of the staffer that Imu has hired to cater to your every whim.

- You have a closet full of beautiful clothing, some of which are luxury brands and some of which are one of a kind pieces that Imu had someone make in particular for you.

- Despite how he seems, Imu knows everything there is to know about you because of how much he loves you. His cold exterior is never projected towards you and you can always tell that he’d tear apart the world for you if it were necessary.

- When Imu is home, he can’t get enough of you.

- He’s always around you and enjoys warm mornings in your shared bed.

- He’s also very fond of shared meals and the conversation that happens over them. The man can be sentimental when it comes to you.

- He’s also a fan of spoiling you senseless. Anything that you see that you want, he’ll buy it for you before you even have to say a word.

- This is actually how you ended up with at least three of the same sort of blouse. You expressed that you found it pretty but didn’t quite like the color, so he bought three of them and had his staff bleach them, then color them in your favorite colors.

- Shockingly, you almost never get into fights.

- Imu doesn’t like to argue with his wife, so when you get into a disagreement, he’s usually the one who backs down and apologizes but still claims that he’s sticking to his opinion… and that often calms any aggressions that spark between the two of you.

—————————

You stared at your reflection in the long, antique mirror placed next to your bed in your small-ish bedroom. You run your hands down your sides and frown. The last time you wore this outfit, it fit more… appropriately.

It was supposed to be a witch outfit. Black boots with curls on the ends, fishnet style tights with stars and moons on them, and a big hat with a mesh that covers your face like a wedding veil would. The main part of the outfit, a strapless black dress with a triangle pattern across the bottom, fit much more tightly than the first time you had tried it on. Perhaps you bought the wrong size after a mistake at the store or it shrunk in the wash, but the way it squeezed your hips and made your cleavage protrude made you not so comfortable in the outfit.

You turned around and peered over your shoulder, unhappy with how the dress fits on you. You sigh and cross your arms, dragging your foot across the ground while thinking about what to do. Eventually, you clear your throat and shout for your boyfriend, who was waiting out in your living room with a couple of your mutual friends.

Shanks, your boyfriend of around four years, opens the door to your bedroom and peers over at you through the space that had just opened up.

The red haired man was dressed as a pirate. He had the cream colored, flowy sort of top and striped pants that you could barely stand to look at because of how ugly they were. Had he not told you that he was going as a pirate (and showed you the black hat he bought with the skull and crossbones on it), you would not have been able to distinguish his Halloween costume from his lack of regular style.

When his eyes land on you, his face lights up almost immediately.

He scuttles over to you and sits his hand on your hip, giving it a firm squeeze, “Wow, sweetheart. You look phenomenal in that.” He mumbles with a faint grin.

You huff and cross your arms, shrugging his hand off of your hip, “Don’t lie to me. Can you even tell what I’m supposed to be? It’s supposed to be a Halloween costume, not one that you’d see on a stripper at a club.”

Shanks scoffs, shaking his head, “You’re a witch. I can tell because of the hat.” He says, “That, and even if you were dressed as a stripper, you’d still be hot and it would be an awesome Halloween costume for you.”

“Oh shush. There’s no way I can justify dressing like that.” You sigh, “You really can’t be comfortable with me going out to, say, a party like this? Aren’t you worried someone is going to hit on me?”

The man shakes his head, “Nope, not at all. And if someone does hit on you…” He leans down closer to you, close enough that your noses almost brush, “I’ll just beat them up so bad that they won’t ever think of doing it again.” He says.

Seeing your still uncertain expression, Shanks frowns, “Is this a self consciousness thing?” He asks.

Slightly, and in an embarrassed manner, you nod, “Yeah… more or less.”

He sighs, “Sweetheart… you know you’re beautiful. Like insanely beautiful. Every single part of you is.” He says, “If you don’t believe me, then I’ll have to prove it to you.”

You raise an eyebrow, “And how exactly are you planning on doing that?”

Immediately, Shanks moves his arm around your waist and pulls you into a kiss. His tongue swiftly finds its way into your mouth and you let out a small whimper in pleasant surprise.

When he pulls away, he shoots you a toothy, charming grin, “So? Did that prove how absolutely smoking I think you are?”

You laugh a bit and gently rub the back of your neck, “…alright, I guess so. I’ll trust you on this. Just this one time.” You mumble.

Shanks pumps his fist, “Oh yeah. Awesome. I get to stare at you and revel in how wonderful you look the entire night.”

You had received multiple complaints from your fellow crew mates about you and Shanks’ relationship. Things ranging from ‘you guys should stop making out on the deck’ to ‘you guys need to quiet down when you’re having sex’ to the point where it got repetitive. But what were you supposed to do? The two of you had just gotten married!

Not surprisingly, these complaints had begun to bother you, so you had begun to look around the ship for your husband. Obviously, you wanted to talk to him about said issues because you didn’t want for any of your friends to be uncomfortable with you because of you and your husband’s tendency to just have sex wherever the two of you wanted to.

Eventually, you spotted Shanks up on the crow’s nest and you made your ascent there, climbing up the rope that led to where the red haired man was peering out over the ocean.

“Shanks,” You address him as you pull yourself into the small-ish wooden bucket, “we need to chat.”

The man turns towards you and grins, “I think I know what this is about. Nobody can quit talking about our… intimate relations, yeah?” He scoffs, “I think they should just get used to it. We’re pirates, for goodness’ sakes.”

Your face flushes slightly and you shake your head, “Doesn’t it embarrass you at all that people know what we’re doing when we do it out on the deck or in front of them?” You ask.

Shanks shrugs, “Not really. In all honesty…” He leans in a bit closer to you, his eyes visibly darkening with a combination of need and lust, “it just turns me on even more.”

You swallow thickly and turn your gaze to the ground, “I guess that’s good for you, but that doesn’t mean I don’t feel shame from it.”

“Shame?” He asks, “You feel shame in all of your crew mates knowing that you’re mine?”

The man slides his thumb underneath your chin and lifts your face up so you’re turned towards him. He then leans in a bit closer and an even brighter grin forms on his face.

“Why don’t we do it right now. We’re up here where they can’t directly see us. Does that make you feel better?” He asks.

You go to protest, but the words die in your mouth when you think of the pleasure and the reason why you’ve been so okay with letting him have sex with you so often in the public eye anyway— his giant cock.

“A-Alright.” You fumble over your words from how flustered you feel as your hands slide down to his waistband, “That sounds… nice.”

“Nice?” He asks with a laugh as he begins to take off your shirt, “I think it sounds great.”

You’re then pushed to the floor of the crow’s nest, making a small ‘oof’ sound as the larger man positions himself on top of you.

You fumble to take his pants off as he does the same for you, and once you’ve got his trousers below his waist, you’re greeted with the sight of an all-too-eager to bang you Shanks.

Immediately, he stuffs his cock into you, making you moan. Loud.

Your hands grip onto his shoulders while he adjusts his positioning and starts moving his hips back and forth, the rhythm he’s making having you melt underneath him.

You huff as the coil between the two of you tightens. You moan out Shanks’ name and he does the same for you, desperate for a release and for the feeling of connection between the two of you.

You whimper when your release comes, spilling all over Shanks. He follows you, whipping his cock out of you and painting your chest and stomach white.

The two of you take a moment to catch your breath and you shakily sit up, brushing your hair out of your face.

“I guess I’ll need to get cleaned up… do you have a rag I could borrow, maybe?” You ask through labored breaths.

Shanks shakes his head, “No, but there’s one down in the kitchen.” He then grins, “Why don’t you go and grab it?”

Your face flushes, “But I’m- I’m covered!” You sputter out.

Your stop on a strange, unnamed island in the Grand Line was supposed to be a quick, easy food and fresh water refill. No issue at all. You would hop off the ship, grab some fruit (and perhaps hunt a few animals, as people do have to eat) and fill a few buckets with lake water if you were lucky enough to stumble across one, and go.

That is far from what happened, though.

You were wandering the woods with your captain with your hands in your pockets. As you peered around the thick foliage, stepping over branches and roots, you couldn’t help but think that these so-called woods were far more similar to a jungle than what they had been labeled by previous pirates in the log book one of your fellow crew mates had obtained years ago… and you all relied on that log book as if it were the fount of knowledge, so you had to wonder whether or not some of the other things it spoke about were true.

One of those things was an entry about a strange plant. It had especially piqued your interest.

Supposedly, the plant was a glossy green on the stem and leaves and had a pale pink flower that grew like a pitcher, with delicate, purple stamens that stuck out above the petals of the flower. There was a poorly drawn sketch of it, and that was what had claimed your attention. The rest of the entries in the log book had been detailed and well crafted. So what made this plant so different? That was the question that lingered in your mind… until your crew mate had allowed for you to read the entry that was sprawled in formal, cursive text.

It spoke of how one of the writer’s crew mates had brushed against the flower and became covered in the purple pollen in one big poof. Almost immediately, the writer had noticed that something was up with their friend and quickly, the entry turned from plain observations to an extremely detailed entry on the decadent homosexual sex the two men had performed in the middle of the woods after that pollen lit something up in the one.

You wanted to encounter it… but you also feared the flower. Was it really as powerful as the entry led you to believe or was the flower really just what set off the previous tensions between the two explorers? Who knew, but as an explorer, you believed it was your duty to get a detailed—and accurate—description of that flower.

Shanks, your captain, had split your volunteer exploration squad into pairs of two with you going with him. He had claimed something about how he was much more comfortable with you by his side and not out with someone who although was powerful, was likely not as competent as he would be if something were to happen. You went with it and continued to roll the idea of this flower around in your head.

Oh, how you wished to see it in person.

You stared at the various foliage and stooped down to pick up a few seeds at one point, rolling them around in your hands as one would a pair or marbles or perhaps walnuts in a zen ritual. One of these moments had you bending over in an odd position, one leg out and one beneath you, so that you could reach a curiously placed rock. Your head was turned from Shanks, and in one swift moment, you felt the also distracted man trip over your leg and tumble down a small hill that led into more foliage.

You quickly jumped away from the rock and chased down after Shanks, grass staining your brown boots as you slid down the bank into the small, open valley that your captain had landed in.

You reach a hand to help him up, but then the realization sets in.

All around your feet are the pink flowers that matched the sketch in the book. You’re covered in the pollen up to your waist, and your captain looks as if he was dipped into a bath full of it.

You quickly pull your hand away from him and cover your mouth in shock.

“Captain!” You try to sputter out despite the almost instant warmth that gathers between your legs, “We need to get out of here! It’s that flower that-”

“The one in the book. I know. I realized the moment I fell down here.” Shanks mumbles, dragging his hand down his face.

You stand for a moment, but slowly, standing seems to become more and more of a difficult task. Your body is practically on fire at this point. Goodness, how could a flower work so quickly?

You could tell that it was having a similar effect on Shanks, especially judging by the tent that had begun to form in his loose fitting trousers.

My goodness, did the man have size.

The two of you exchange one more look, and breathlessly, you speak.

“A-According to the log book,” You huff, “after the two men engaged in… intercourse,” You swallow thickly, “they were well enough to… get back to their ship and get cleaned up.”

“You’re not suggesting what I think you’re suggesting.” Shanks says, but when he meets your eyes again, he swallows. Hard.

All of a sudden, you’re yanked down by your arm into the field of flowers, more of the purple pollen rushing into the air. Shanks fumbles with the buttons on your shirt as if he were a man starved, which you can’t blame him for.

While he does so, you can’t help but marvel at him. You had never noticed before now how attractive the captain was. Although it might have been the pollen, you just couldn’t get enough of how he appeared when he was towering over you. You felt minuscule in his presence… and comparatively, you were. He had at least a foot on you, if not more.

The man eventually gives up and just pops the buttons off your shirt, then leans down and rips your bra off with his teeth. You whimper in eager pleasure at the brief feeling of his face against your skin and the man stumbles through an apology, promising that he’ll lend you his shirt on the way back so that you won’t be indecent. It just goes in one of your ears and out the other, though.

Swiftly, he shimmies out of his own pants, then reaches for yours before pausing.

His face has become almost as red as his hair at this point, and the desire for release is evident in all of his movements, but he still manages to ask, “Are you sure this is alright?”

You firmly nod and clutch onto his shoulders, “Yeah. Yeah, this is just fine.” You huff, barely able to make it through that simple sentence.

Shanks takes the ‘yes’ and runs with it, yanking your pants down your legs and almost immediately shoving his cock into you.

You moan both from pain and pleasure as your captain stretches you out. He mumbles things about how good you are and how well you’re taking him, but all you can focus on is how good he feels inside you despite the clear pain you feel.

In and out, it’s an endless cycle for what feels like forever, but you don’t want it to end.

Shanks scoffs eventually and yanks out of you, flipping you over. He grabs both sides of your rear and sticks his cock into your asshole, one of his arms reaching up to wrap around your neck. He flexes his muscles and almost instantly you moan, feeling yourself release for at least the third time.

You whimper, the pain shooting sparks of pleasure through your body while the captain just takes full control of you.

Once the man has had his fill, he releases you and you sink into his arms, the two of you huffing as if you were wild animals that had just been on some sort of crazy chase.

Shanks shakes his head and laughs, brushing his red hair out of his face, “We should have never come into these woods.”

You firmly shake your head in disagreement and frown, “I disagree. I think that was great. And that we should do it again sometime.”

He laughs a bit more loudly this time as he throws his shirt over your head, covering you up.

“Alright, I guess that sounds pretty nice. Though, don’t expect for me to ever be able to go that crazy again.” He says, a grin on his face, “I think I might’ve pulled something. Or multiple somethings.”

“When were you gonna tell me that you weren’t human?”

Nanu leans on his hand. He’s got you cornered, to say the very least. You could tell by the tone he used when he asked you to visit him that he had figured something out about you.

You hadn’t expected him to have found out that you were what those at the Aether Foundation called an ‘Ultra Beast’— a Xurkitree, to be exact.

You just stared at him. You had spent so very long crafting your human form that you thought it could trick people for as long as it would take for you to get the data on what the Aether Foundation was doing and return to Ultra Space, but that plan was derailed when you became friends with the old kahuna. Despite Tapu Bulu’s very blatant dislike of you (the Tapus have a sense for Ultra Beasts, so of course it wouldn’t like you), the man decided that you probably just got too close to the Aether Foundation for its approval and disregarded any sort of warning thought he may have had that was about you.

Mostly because he had fallen for you.

Nanu hates admitting it, but it’s true. He had fallen head over heels for you in the time that the two of you had spent together. The slightly awkward but charming way you speak, the way you always look after Pokémon, wild or otherwise, and the curious yet endearing looks you would give him every now and then as if he were a rare gemstone or shiny Pokémon. He had figured out, though, that the look you were giving him was like a scientist looking at mold spores on a plate or like a curious Noctowl eyeing its next Rattata meal.

He felt betrayed. Extremely so.

You wring your hands together and shrug, “I never planned on telling you. In fact, I planned on leaving before the topic ever even found its way into anyone’s subconscious.” You explain.

Nanu shakes his head, “Why? Why would you keep a secret like that from me? From anyone?” He pauses, then he bites his lip and shakes his head, “Actually, that’s a stupid question to be asking. The real things I should be asking are why you’re here, why you decided to disguise yourself as a human, and why you haven’t run on back to Ultra Space yet now that I’ve figured you out.”

“I’m here to stop the Aether Foundation from dabbling any more in our business. Ultra Beasts, as you call them, are smarter than they give us credit for.” You explain, “So there was large outcry for their efforts to… bring us here to be stopped. I came to gather information and report back on how we could stop them.” You say.

Nanu nods, “…S’pose that makes sense. Now, answer my other two questions.” He points at you.

“I’m disguised as a human because of two reasons.” You continue without pausing to dwell on his newly cold and harsh tone, since he obviously has reason to be acting that way, “Firstly, it makes sneaking in so much easier. Even you should recognize that reason.” You claim, “Secondly, I admire human form. How you all are so similar and yet different at the same time. I wished to replicate that for myself and live amongst you for the time I had decided to spend in Alola.” You then pause, hesitant to move onto the next part of your explanation.

Nanu does give you a look that asks for you to continue, though, so you sturdy yourself and shrug your shoulders.

“And I remained in Alola over my desired time because I found myself rather liking human company.” You say, “Especially yours, Nanu. Though, I know that means nothing now that my lie has come to light.”

Nanu narrows his red eyes at you. He can’t tell whether or not you’re telling the truth, but even though he’s found out that you’re an Ultra Beasts, he wants to believe what you’re saying.

“So you don’t mean any harm to real humans, right?” The man asks you, clear skepticism in his voice.

You nod, “Of course.”

“Other Ultra Beasts that have come over here have all wanted to hurt the citizens of Alola. What makes you any different?” He asks.

“There are certain humans who wish to kill other humans. What makes you different than them?” You ask swiftly in return, “And yes, your hesitation to trust me after my lie is understandable, but what you fail to grasp is that Ultra Beasts like myself have been living amongst you for generations now. Sure, some Ultra Beasts have a desire to harm or kill humans, but the majority have never even thought of doing that.” You sigh, “Please believe me. I am just here to learn.”

Nanu gives you one more discerning look, but he eventually sighs and shakes his head in resignation, “Fine. I’ll believe you for now, but I’ll keep a close eye on you to make sure that you don’t go rogue and start killing Alolan citizens, alright?”

You sigh in relief and nod firmly, “Of course. Anything that means I can stay amongst you folks.”

Nanu huffed but gave you a slightly softer look. Despite his searing hatred of Ultra Beasts, perhaps his newfound discovery wouldn’t have too much of an impact on your relationship.

————————

Months had passed since that day and fortunately enough, you had only grown closer with Nanu.

His previous visits to your home to make sure that you hadn’t ’gone rogue’, as he liked to call it, morphed into visits that always included heartfelt conversation and playful banter that, admittedly, left the both of you craving each other in a way that you hated to admit.

You were well aware that you shouldn’t be getting yourself this intertwined with a human and Nanu felt the same about you being an Ultra Beast, but the drag the two of you felt towards each other was undeniable and extremely powerful.

The tension finally snapped on a fine evening at the police station that Nanu had made his home.

The sun had set and Nanu had previously insisted that it was too late for you to head back to your home on your own despite his knowledge that you can take on any sort of Pokémon or human being that chose to mess with you.

You sit next to the man on his couch. His arm is lazily draped over your shoulders while you keep your attention on the television program playing in the background. Nanu was dozing off, as he had been for the last half an hour or so now, but you were wide awake. Whatever had turned on the television intrigued you so.

You were well aware of how humans displayed affection to each other. Hugs, kisses, etcetera, but you had never seen it displayed so brightly as what was being shown on the television. You had never thought that actions like that could be as meaningful as what they were being portrayed as.

A thought then climbs into your mind and you cast a sideways glance at Nanu. Slowly, you lean towards him, the television program drifting out of your focus and into the background.

You place a kiss on his forehead.

Nanu immediately snaps back awake and rubs his eyes, any sign of drowsiness the man was previously experiencing disappearing just as quickly as you had given him that kiss.

“Hey, hey, what was that?” Nanu asks you, swiftly demanding your attention.

You keep your gaze away from him and shrug your shoulders, “Just replicating what I saw on the television.” You claim, though the both of you know that was a lie and that there was meaning to the kiss you had just given to him.

Nanu sighs and drags a hand down his face, “What did I tell you about the lying thing? It makes you seem untrustworthy.” He says, “Tell me the truth. And don’t use the TV as a scapegoat this time.”

You shrug once more, trying to portray an air of casualty to your awkward admission, “I suppose that I just wanted to try out affection. I mean, what those humans on the television show said to each other sounded like… how I feel about you, so I assumed it was only right to do what they were doing.” You say.

Nanu blinks a few times. Until now, he hadn’t thought that you could feel anything, let alone romantic attraction. At least, he thought that’s what you were describing, and he would be right.

Your eyes bore into his for a moment and the man eventually slumps his head against your chest, his cheeks turning the faintest of pinks, “Alright, alright, I get what you’re saying.” Nanu says, trying to play his actions off as casual, “I feel the same, but I’m too tired to discuss it in full right now.” He says.

“You are always too tired, Nanu.” You say, bringing one of your hands up to rub circles on his back. Even though you don’t know much of anything about humans, you know that the action is supposed to be soothing. When Nanu snuggles closer to you, you know that said action worked as you intended it to do so.

“You caught me. But regardless, let’s not think about it too much.” He mumbles, “I love you. And that’s all that matters. We’ll discuss labels later. If you want to. If you even want to be in a relationship.”

He then laughs, “Though, you’re an Ultra Beast. Do you even have context for that sort of thing?”

“Of course I do.” You quickly reply, “We aren’t solitary creatures in Ultra Space. We have intimate and loving relationships, just like you humans do.”

“But you weren’t aware of what affection is like?” He asks you with a faint frown.

“Of course not. It’s far different in Ultra Space than it is here. Especially with the lack of limbs.” You reply, making Nanu laugh softly.

“Alright, I guess that makes sense.” He mumbles, “…you do want to be in a relationship, right? I didn’t just go talking too much, right?” He then asks.

“Obviously. I would be a fool to tell someone as wonderful as you ‘no’. Especially since it is all too clear that we feel the same, or at the very least, similarly.” You grin.

Nanu sighs softly, but this time it’s in an affectionate, happy way.

“Good. Because I love you. Even if that’s weird to say because you’re some otherworldly electric creature.” Nanu says as he sits his head back onto your chest.

The door is locked firmly and the lights are turned down low.

Racine Construction is shut down for the day. Some excuse about the workers needing a break and Canari needing the whole place for a certain stream she’ll be running.

You knew what the real reason why the construction company got shut down for the day, though.

Back and forth, you roll the thought around your head as you lie partially underneath the covers of a bed that is a little more than unfamiliar to you. It smells of rust and sawdust and a gentle, faint musk that you wouldn’t have recognized if you didn’t become so acquainted with its owner.

You tug the blanket up as it falls off of your bare chest, listening to the shower run. Terragon had promised you that once he ‘washed the dirt off from the day’ that he would come in and meet you, but the tension was driving you insane.

You could barely take it. You wanted to feel his hands all over you like he had promised. You wanted to let him destroy you and-

The door to the bathroom opens and you immediately turn towards the sound. Before you can register that your beloved has returned, Terragon slides into bed next to you and pulls your head down so he can manage a kiss with just the right amount of tongue.

When you break apart, you brush your hair out of your face, “It took you long enough. You made me wait for so, so long… it’s cruel, you know.” You mumble as you sit close enough to him to where your noses are almost touching.

“I know, darlin’.” He replies as a grin starts to form on his bearded face, “I’ll make it up to ya, just like I said I would.”

Despite the very distinct strength difference between the two of you (Terragon being much weaker despite his construction background because years of work has worn him down), you allow him to guide you underneath him. He pins your hands down in the best way he can do so, and he leans down so he can manage another few kisses on your face.

Hesitantly and with genuine precaution, Terragon moves the blanket from off of your chest, taking a brief moment to marvel at how beautiful you are.

You jolt as he leans down and takes a tit into his mouth. The lack of self control the man has is blatant, but you enjoy that fact to the fullest. Especially as his tongue makes circles around one of your newly firm nipples.

He tugs his face away from your chest, making you whine from the lack of the touch. Terragon casts you a smug grin, “Just be patient, darlin’. I’ll give you what you need.”

You clutch at his chest while he gets into position, your pussy begging for his cock. You wish you could put it into words, but you don’t know how to at the moment.

Despite not having much length, Terragon knows how to use every single inch of his dick to the fullest, and you’re fully ready to experience it once again.

The moment he slipped it in, you made a terrible, slightly strangled noise just because you knew that you would finally feel some sort of relief after having to wait so long for him.

“Ain’t that nice, darlin’?” Terragon asks you through faint pants as he slides in and out of you in a practiced, serious motion, “I told you that I’d fix you up. Make you right. Please you correctly.”

Even though his rambling is a little pointless, you hang onto every single word. A soft whimper leaves your lips and you grip onto his shoulders. Through shaky breaths, you speak, “I know… I never doubted you.” You huff out as the two of you stay intertwined.

He grunts as the tension between you two slowly build. You feel your legs tremble, your body begging for Terragon and the release he can provide to you, and you’re well aware that Terragon feels the exact same way.

When your release finally rushes over you, your back arches and you squeeze around the man, a moan leaving your lips. You cry out his name and grip at his chest, then revel in the pleasant moment when you feel his release inside of you and the quiet, desperate call of your name that makes your heart flutter like a person who has just started to fall in love, even though the two of you have been together for years now.

Terragon’s breathing is heavy for a moment and although you aren’t paying attention to your own, you know that it likely matches his own. You reach a hand down and gently rub it down his back as he crawls up the bed and shimmies under the covers right next to you.

He snakes his arm around you and places a kiss onto your cheek. You hum and return the kiss to his forehead.

“I love you, Terragon.” You whisper as the man’s breathing slows down and he seems to become a bit more sleepy after your passionate activities, as he often does, “Thank you for making the time for me.”

He nods and hums contentedly, “I love you too, darlin’. We’ll have to take another day off sometime.” He says as he winks at you.

The light streamed through your window and over onto the sheets on your delicately made bed. The rocking back and forth of the Sunny made you more so sick to your stomach than you were previously. Being a pirate and being on your period was a combination that many a person wished they didn’t have to endure.

Unlike many others, though, you had Pirate Hunter Zoro to make your more miserable days just a bit more bearable.

This morning, you sat clutching a pillow to your chest while ignoring the sick feeling that every now and then flared up in your throat. Because of how terrible you felt, you barely noticed that the door to your bedroom clicked open and shut closed.

A large, calloused hand finds its way to your hip and offers it a squeeze.

“You’re still in bed?” Zoro, your boyfriend since you started this pirate journey with the Straw Hat Crew, asks you in a slightly worried and slightly judgmental tone.

You shrug faintly as an attempt to get him to remove his hand from your hip, not wanting to deal with his judgement, “I told you that I was cramping really badly this morning and warned you that I might not get out of bed. Your tone and attitude won’t change that.” You claim.

Zoro huffs in a childish manner, but he scoots over to sit next to you on the queen sized mattress, “…that just happens sometimes though.” He mumbles.

“That doesn’t make it any less of an inconvenience, Zoro.” You mumble out as his hand snakes around your waist and finds a place to sit on your lower stomach.

His thumb presses gently onto your sensitive stomach, earning the faintest of whimpers from you. At your unexpected reaction, he peers down at your face and gets this odd smirk on his face that could only possibly mean one thing for the two of you.

He glances over at the door, then back down at your gradually flushing face. He tilts his head as if to ask if what he’s about to do is okay, and you nod so as to approve his request.

Slowly, he moves the blanket off of you and moves his rough hands down to undo the buttons on your pants. Despite a bit of trouble, he manages to get them off of you and off of the side of the bed.

Warmth gathers between your legs as Zoro fumbles with his own pants as the tension in the room grows both sensually and awkwardly, if that’s even possible.

When he manages to do so, he’s all too eager to stick his giant, thick cock into you.

Zoro knows nothing about being gentle, so when he decides to really go for sex, you know you’re going to be sore the next morning… but at least it’s so much better than continuing to be distracted by your terrible cramps.

All he has to do is dip his tip into you to get you whimpering. It’s almost pathetic in his mind, but the more pathetic you are for him the better.

The further he goes in, the more you clench around him, making him moan and even whimper, though not to the same degree as you are.

One of his hands grabs onto your wrist and the slight jolt makes you open your eyes- and you’re so very glad you did.

You stare into his green eyes and pause at the sight of his green hair a mess and sweat dribbling down his face. It slides down his brow and over his lips- oh, his lips, how you wish you could feel them against your pussy, but that would have to wait for another day.

The heat builds and eventually snaps, causing you to practically scream out Zoro’s name followed by a beg that comes out as more of a demand for him to continue to pleasure you in a way only he can.

With the strong wave of your climax, he comes right after you and shouts your name out in tandem.

Slowly, your passionate moment comes crashing down when the two of you break apart for a split moment, Zoro eventually collapsing onto your chest with his face right between both of your tits.

“That was an appropriate distraction.” You mumble as you reach a worn out hand up to run through Zoro’s hair.

Things were quiet in the dungeon for the first time in a long while. More than often there was a cry of a monster such as a growl or hiss that signaled fighting between two parties of either the same monster species or rivaling clans of different monsters. That or adventurers crying out in pain from being mauled or being in battle.

But on the sixth floor, things are silent. Deathly silent.

You sit on the floor in a hastily constructed nest that’s far too big for your small, slime based body. Because it makes your new boss, the chimera, more comfortable, you stick in a semi-elven form with pointed ears and a human-like body that you would have no use for had it not made the chimera not give you that nasty glare she uses to the fullest.

Behind you in the sloppy nest is said chimera, curled up and resting peacefully at the moment. The master of the dungeon has been cruel to the red dragon- what her body once was -for quite some time, preventing her… or them, from resting. You had to enjoy the peace that was brought to her because of her endless fighting and struggling as of lately. You weren’t expecting for her, during her rest, to require you stick by her side.

Soft feathers press against your back as you fidget with broken pieces of rock and torn up roots that make up the nest. The chimera’s soft breathing soothes you, to an extent, since it’s a signal that she’s really sleeping.

Because the master of the dungeon had forced you to keep close watch over her, you hadn’t had much time to rest either. Although shapeshifters don’t need rest in the conventional sense (sleeping, keeping well-fed), they still require breaks and you are no exception.

You find yourself stretching out a bit, but that movement seems to alert the chimera. She wakes from her slumber and moves her head down towards you, her curious, golden brown eyes looking you up and down.

“Do you not sleep, shapeshifter?” She quietly asks you in that tone that inexplicably makes your jelly heart leap.

You gently shake your head, “No, master, I do not. I am not your regular sort of shapeshifter, but rather one that’s based in slimes.” You reply, “And so, since slimes do not sleep, I do not sleep either.”

“But you are much more smart than any slime I’ve ever met.” She replies as she sits her head onto your shoulder, making you shiver. The gentle feeling almost makes you drop your form due to shock and comfort, but you stop yourself by bringing to mind your mission and how important it is that you keep this body up so the chimera won’t unleash her wrath upon you.

“Only because I have been given unusual intellect by the lord of the dungeon.” You claim as you cast a glance over to her, the confused expression gracing her face amusing you just a bit.

“How sad. You’re forced to live as a slime but you are smarter than any of your brethren.” She says with a frown.

“Not a slime, a shapeshifter, but more or less, yes.” You confirm, “I suppose it isn’t any problem, as I have favor in the eyes of the lord of the dungeon. The same is to you. You have so much more knowledge and power because you are special in his eyes.”

“I should intervene with him, then. I can have him give you a body. A proper one. One that reflects your brain and elegance.” She sleepily replies as she curls a bit tighter around you.

“I would say the same to you, but your body already reflects your internal beauty.” You say as you watch her drift back to sleeping.

Softly, you sigh.

It was widely assumed by the Rust Syndicate that their boss didn’t have a soft spot for any sort of romantic partner… or that a romantic partner would have a soft spot for him.

He was sort of this untouchable pillar for many; a beast that could not be touched or gotten close to because of his status and past. To many, talking to Corbeau was like talking to some sort of CEO or monarch.

That’s not the case for you, though.

You knew Corbeau when the two of you were children. Even though your parents warned you about talking to strange children on the streets, you couldn’t stay away from the purple haired boy who was always lingering near alleyways with his Venipede.

Over time, after wearing him down enough to get to know him, you and Corbeau became friends. The two of you would spend many days wandering the long, winding streets of Lumiose and talking about whatever you could find to talk about. It was like that for quite some time, but your casual fun started to halt when Corbeau was taken under the wing of Lumiose’s one and only Lysandre. Because of his lack of time to see you, Corbeau promised you that he would find you again once he had more time. He told you that he would bring you all over the world once he had the chance and that it was a promise.

Corbeau has never forgotten that promise, and now that things in Lumiose have calmed down a little bit, he’s been making certain arrangements for the two of you.

You’re called by him bright and early one morning, answering the phone and smiling when you hear his voice and his nickname for you.

He tells you that you need to come down to his office with an open mind, which makes you incredibly curious. What could he want this early, you wonder?

So you get yourself ready and you head down to his office, still curious and a bit antsy to find out what he wants to tell you.

You take the elevator up to the beautifully decorated room and approach Corbeau’s desk, an eyebrow raising at the faint grin he has placed on his pale face.

“So, what’s this about?” You ask him with a small tilt of your head.

“I plan on finally fulfilling my promise to you, sunshine.” He says with a nod, “I told you that I was going to take you all over the world, and I fully intend on doing that.”

You gasp as he slides you a file. You pick it up and begin to flip through everything he has put in it: pamphlets, magazine clippings, and a plethora of printed out pictures of destinations and restaurants.

“Corbeau, what is this?” You ask him with wide eyes, “You can’t really be thinking about taking me all of these places.”

“Not thinking, sunshine. Doing.” He says with a firm nod, “I already have all of our plane tickets. A whole half a year across the world.” He says with a bright smile, “I’m going to bring you on dates absolutely everywhere. Galar, Paldea, Kanto, you name it. I’m going to go everywhere with you.”

After stepping off of the train, you take a deep breath in.

You had missed the city of Lumiose so deeply. In fact, you had missed all of Kalos. You had grown up there and had spent most of your life there, but a job opportunity in Galar pulled you away from the city you loved so dearly.

You promised people you knew that you would be back, but you hadn’t expected for the job you had to fulfill to take nearly six years. For a little over a year after you had left, you had exchanged letters with your lover, Lysandre, but the letters he had been sending you back completely stopped after what Kalos had been calling the very worst thing to happen in quite some time. Your lover had tried to destroy the entire region to create a ‘new, more beautiful world’, but just ended up getting himself killed instead. Of course, you missed him, but there wasn’t anything you could do now that he was gone.

You take a brief look around and smile. Despite the changes the city is clearly undergoing, you feel back at home amongst the tall buildings and rustic appearance of the streets that sit in front of you.

Grabbing your luggage, you head down the paved road towards your new apartment. It’s tucked in the very edge of the Vert district near a strange looking café that you fully intend on going to get a coffee from on the regular. It’s often said that nothing beats Lumiose’s coffee, and after spending six years in Galar, you can wholeheartedly agree with that statement.

You then bring all of your luggage into your apartment and decide to go explore the city. Taking in all of its changes, you find a place on a bench (that receives a bit of your scorn due to being very clearly anti-homeless) to sit and watch a few people pass.

Eventually, a figure in the crowd sticks out to you. You frown and get up from your seat, deciding to investigate the oddly familiar visage.

The crowd thins and noticing that he was being trailed, the man turns around.

The both of you freeze. Your eyes lock onto him and your hands drop to your sides.

“Lysandre?” You ask, barely able to believe who you’re seeing.

It can’t be. He was supposed to be dead.

The man frowns, “I’m sorry, I don’t know who that is. I think you have the wrong person.”

He turns back around and you reach out for him but pull your hand away.