Ash Can Understand Pokemon Fanfiction

((A/N)) If you haven't read "Lycan King" you should definitely read it for a better understanding of "Lycan Blood." or you can just read this book and go back and read "Lycan King" your choice.****************I follow closely behind Lucious through the dark forest, looking at his tensed back. "I was only helping. I know you're angry Lucious, but you can't go around doing whatever you want anymore. My father has laws in place for these types of things." If Lucious would've wiped that pack out, he would've had to answer to father for his crimes.Lucious turn around glaring at me. "Don't tell me what I can and cannot do! I don't give a fuck about your father nor his laws! He's not my fucking king!" He spits the words at me, before turning walking away.I let out a sigh, looking at his back as he disappears through the thick trees of the forest. He may not accept father as his king, but that doesn't mean father won't punish him for the laws he breaks.************************************** After all the killing and fighting, Lisa just wants for things to go back to the way they once were, but the peacefulness of her old life back in the human world is long gone. Lisa is now shoved into the world that she was always meant to be a part of. She's no longer in the human world, living by the human ways and laws. Here its killed or be killed. While Lisa fight for her respect amongst the wolves, Lucious is planning to get revenge for the death of his father and friends.

Alina was born a princess but lived as a shadow—powerless, overlooked, and too afraid to challenge the brutal world she was born into. In a kingdom where Weres reigned and Lycans were enslaved, she convinced herself that silence was survival. But when the Lycans rose in rebellion, her family was slaughtered, and she died with regret clawing at her heart. Then, she wakes up—twelve years old, on the day she was first assigned a Lycan slave. Armed with the memories of a future drenched in blood, Alina refuses to be the same passive princess. She will change fate, starting with Casimir—the fierce Lycan warrior destined to lead the rebellion… and the very man who killed her. But altering the course of history is not so simple. As she fights to reshape destiny, she finds herself drawn to Casimir in ways she never expected. Can she truly change the future, or will her choices lead to a fate even darker than before?

On the day of my wedding gown fitting, a stranger burst into the VIP suite and stabbed me with a knife. “You think you deserve a dress this expensive after stealing someone else’s man?” She tore at the delicate fabric of my skirt. Then, with a twisted smile, she hurled a bottle of acid at me. The blade was buried in my lower abdomen. The pain drove me to my knees. She grabbed my hair and yanked my head up. “Gerald’s my husband! What are you? You’re nothing but a mistress who can’t even be seen with him in public!” Blood dripped down my fingers. That was when it finally sank in. The man I had been with for seven years had been keeping another woman by his side. “What’re you staring at? Even if I kill you, with my husband’s influence, no one will dare touch me!” Staring at her smug face, I pulled out my phone with hands slicked in blood and called my brother. “Matt…” My voice was unnervingly calm. “Come pick me up at the bridal shop. And please inform the Hoover family that the engagement is off.”

Warning!!! extremely erotica flee if you don’t read something streamy, rated 18+ “You’re mine and mine alone do you understand?” he growled in her neck, his fingers buried deep in her wet p*ssy. Her breath caught in her throat as he made her feel like her skin had come to life, she was burning with need, crying for him, craving for him to fill her up. “Answer me!” he ordered then she nodded squinting her eyes shut as he thrust his fingers in and out of her, she cried in pleasure her lips quivered as she whimpered, “I’m yours Asher” Selene had lost her parents after an attack that turned her from a rich girl to a poor orphan. Read this steamy hot novel to find out how her life changed drastically when she encountered Alpha Asher and his jealous twin brother Axel.

Camille Lewis was the forgotten daughter, the unloved wife, the woman discarded like yesterday’s news. Betrayed by her husband, cast aside by her own family, and left for dead by the sister who stole everything, she vanished without a trace. But the weak, naive Camille died the night her car was forced off that bridge. A year later, she returns as Camille Kane, richer, colder, and more powerful than anyone could have imagined. Armed with wealth, intelligence, and a hunger for vengeance, she is no longer the woman they once trampled on. She is the storm that will tear their world apart. Her ex-husband begs for forgiveness. Her sister’s perfect life crumbles. Her parents regret the daughter they cast aside. But Camille didn’t come back for apologies, she came back to watch them burn. But as her enemies fall at her feet, one question remains: when the revenge is over, what’s left? A mysterious trillionaire Alexander Pierce steps into her path, offering something she thought she lost forever, a future. But can a woman built on ashes learn to love again? She rose from the fire to destroy those who betrayed her. Now, she must decide if she’ll rule alone… or let someone melt the ice in her heart.

Euphemia Winters had the life she's always wanted, a gorgeous boyfriend, best friends, college this fall, and a great new apartment. But, something isn't right in her field of dreams, will she work through it, or will she find something better?

Jason and Amy have been lifelong couples. They vowed not to be separated by anything, not even death. However, on a fateful day, the dreaded thing happened. Amy died. As she was dying, she promised that she would be back for Jason. A hundred years later, Jason meets someone who looked exactly like his past Amy. What would he do? Will that old love be reclaimable?

My mother fell critically ill and was rushed to the hospital. Desperate, I knelt before my fiancé—the department's chief surgeon—and begged him to take charge of her operation. But outside the ICU, he was carefully tending to a scraped knee. Lucy Wendell's scraped knee, to be exact. Just as I was drowning in hopelessness, Cameron Mitchell—the hospital director and my childhood friend—pushed open the operating room doors and handed me a marriage proposal. "Marry me, and I'll personally perform your mother's surgery." With trembling hands, I signed my name, clinging to the last shred of hope that she could be saved. But she never made it through that stormy night. Cameron handled all the funeral arrangements himself, and our wedding proceeded as scheduled. Seven years later, in the hushed silence of the hospital archives, I overheard Cameron speaking with the deputy director. "Cameron, why did you transfer your mother-in-law's organ to Lucy's mother during that surgery? Weren't you afraid of getting caught?" "I owed Lucy," he replied. "If I hadn't hesitated back then, Lucy never would've chosen medical aid work in Africa… and her mother wouldn't have fallen ill from the grief."

On my son’s birthday, my husband had asked his first love to pick our son up from our home. While I stubbornly refused to let him go, a huge fire broke out in the hallway during our standoff. I was struck by falling debris, and blood started streaming from my head. However, my son was unharmed as he lay beneath me. My husband, who was a firefighter, came forward to rescue us. But he handed the only gas mask he had to his first love. “Miss Leia has a weaker constitution. Dad, please get her out first. Mom, wait for the other firefighters to save you!” I watched them leave with a faint, bitter smile. It appeared that they had both forgotten my severe asthma and the fact that I would die without a gas mask.

On the fourth day after our son died, I decided to end my military marriage. Before that, I spent three days taking care of what remained of him. On the first day, I tricked my wife into signing the cremation papers. On the second day, I went to my son's school and collected the textbooks he never had the chance to use. On the third day, I prepared a table full of his favorite dishes and begged my wife to come home so we could celebrate his birthday one last time. She agreed. Then she turned around, claimed she had a mission, and spent the entire night setting off fireworks with her childhood sweetheart. That night, I sat beside my son's memorial photo and ate alone. The next day, she came home looking guilty and handed me a brand new backpack. She said it was a gift for our son to use at school. She did not know that our child would never live to see his first day of school.