#''yes i want fucking god itself. what will i give? this small goo blob that's a dragon i guess''

[puppypaw-wc]

today i learned that i hate the fact that every pseudo-legendary pokemon is found like super late into the game.

like,,, i don’t even know where you find dratini in original red and blue (in the let’s go games you can find it by surfing on the route above cerulean city), in gold, silver and crystal larvitar’s post-game, i don’t know where you get bagon or beldum in the hoenn games, nor do i know where you get gible in the sinnoh games, or deino in the unova games, in x and y goomy’s on the route leading to the town with the sixth gym, in the alola games jangmoo-o’s found during the final trial, so the very end of the game, and idk where you get,,, whatever the first stage of dragapult is in sword and shield.

I JUST WANNA USE GOOMY-

[mickey-milkovichs]

to survive in peace and harmony ch. 1 - faith/buffy

~As the Scoobies are preparing for the battle with The First, Buffy is also dealing with her own problems such as 1) training the potentials and trying not to die, 2) Faith being back in town and 3) a never before heard of demon that is somehow able to kill her every night in her dreams. But what happens when Faith is apparently the only one who can slay the demon? Will they be able to move beyond their past in order to help each other? And what about the weird feelings they have to deal with when they're forced to share a bed...

(Season 7 shameless, angsty forced bedsharing AU!) ** warning for canon typical violence **

also on ao3!

*

He—or it—is coming at her again. The gelatinous blob rolls itself forward in a heaving motion and another mass bubbles up into existence right next to her. Its electric green tentacle, dripping pus from its many open orifices, swipes at her, narrowly missing the soft skin on the front of her neck. Buffy swings her sword at it again, but as usual, it passes through the being without causing even the slightest damage whatsoever. The green thing (monster, demon, God Buffy has no fucking idea) is spilling towards Buffy at rapid speeds now, looking almost like a giant sized river of green jelly running down someone’s giant sized cafeteria tray. Except Buffy knows better, and she knows what’s coming next. But not this time. She drops the sword and runs.

She runs and runs and runs, through the unfamiliar, empty city, so creepy and devoid of life, so far that her lungs feel like they’re about to burst and her legs are quivering. She almost thinks she’s made it this time, until she feels the icy cold goo run over her right foot and grab hold. It yanks her ankle and she pitches forward instantly, just managing not to smash her face on the asphalt highway as she catches herself with her hands. She can feel the wet mass slinking up over her back, slowly now, now that it knows that it has her, and she gives up. She allows her body to sink into the road and rest, finally. It’ll be over quickly. The slime slowly covers her form. It spreads out over the pavement until she’s completely encased, and then slowly, almost with a grotesque attempt at seduction, it starts filling her mouth. Even though Buffy knows that nothing will work, her body can’t help but try not to be invaded. Her stomach convulses as Buffy attempts to spit out the disgusting fluid, and when it doesn’t work she starts choking and coughing, trying to force the disgusting stuff back out of her throat. That doesn’t work either, and soon she can feel her entire body swelling, being consumed with and by the neon sludge. She’s growing light headed as her airway is completely cut off. Her head grows fuzzy and her eyes become clouded with black spots, and she feels the by-now familiar death spams beginning. It’s different from her other deaths. More violent, more visceral, more violating. The pus starts burning her organs away, but thankfully she’s unaware as her eyes roll back in her head and her chest stops moving. Buffy is dead.

Buffy stifles a scream and shoots up into a sitting position in her bed. She’s gasping for air, shaking as the memory of the dream runs through her mind over and over. She pulls the white sheet down off of her hot chest and wipes her trembling hand over her face, finding it damp with tears.

Well this is getting really freaking old, she thinks sarcastically, even as she’s trying to get control on her body’s outward signs of terror. She allows herself a few minutes to catch her breath, then hops out of bed, determined to clean up and scrub away any traces of the dream off her body before she goes back downstairs. They still have an apocalypse to deal with after all. Plus everyone will worry if they see her all freaked, especially Dawn. If there’s anything Buffy can do to ensure that her sister is not more scared then she has to be during this shit storm, she’ll do it. As she steps into the shower she notices that her right ankle is throbbing. Buffy looks down and sees that it’s puffy and swollen. It feels fractured, maybe broken, and the vaguely sick, achy feeling that her body’s developed over the last few days has gotten worse. Great.

Once Buffy’s washed and dressed she tip toes down the stairs, and takes a deep breath before plunging into the dire atmosphere of the living room. Even the fearless leader gets intimidated during let’s-all-discuss-how-we-can-possibly-not-die-y times. The group is huddled over some books that Giles has brought over. Willow is murmuring quietly in a worried tone, Kennedy standing behind her with a comforting hand on her shoulder. Xander is hunched over with his hand covering his mouth and chin, with Anya pretending to study a book while sneaking peeks at him.

“Buff! Nap time over?” Xander asks as he shakes himself from his worried state and notices her walking into the room. Buffy takes care not to limp or show any signs of pain.

“Yeah…. I’m rested enough for now,” Buffy replies as cheerfully as she can as she lowers herself into an armchair in the circle. “I figured I needed to stop slacking and come back down here and get cracking.” She frowns at her unintentional rhyme.

“You’re a poet!” Dawn crows as she laughs at Buffy’s embarrassed frowny face.

“I don’t think so. More like an...rhymey-word-user-person,” Buffy tries to quickly divert attention away as Dawn keeps laughing at her. “Anyway. Willow, what were you talking about just now?”

“Um...well, another potential’s dead. Her name was Jessica, she had almost made it to us...but they caught her running on foot just outside of Sunnydale. And Spike found a giant underground nest of ubervamps. He couldn’t take care of it himself, so he thinks we should gather up a group and go later. But...what about you? Any...dream wigginess?”

“There was...a little bit of dream wigginess,” Buffy answers reluctantly. She hates making people worry about her. She really wishes she had better news, and that Dawn wasn’t here to hear this right now. Sure, she may be as old as many of the potentials, but she’s her little sister, her responsibility.

Willow’s brow wrinkles anxiously. “Did you...die again?”

“Yeah. Same old, same old. They’re just dreams though, Will. Definitely not more pressing than the impending apocalypse. I’m almost getting bored of them actually. This guy’s gonna have to whip up something a little more original if he wants to get to me.” She hopes she’s hiding how scared and tired and defeated she actually is. She hasn’t told them about the aches and pains. Now’s so not the time to be Drama Buffy, she has to be Army Leader Buffy. Maybe she should have stayed with Riley. Aren’t boyfriends supposed to pick up the slack for their significant others, or is that exclusive to normal girls?

“Yes, of course, however it is concerning, Buffy,” Giles states as he rubs at the lens of his glasses. “Even in dreams, a monster defeating you over and over is quite unusual, and worrisome. The coincidence of the timing cannot be overlooked. If The First should have something to do with this, it could prove to be...extremely dangerous. And once we figure out what it’s plan is it might be too late. It bears looking into.”

“We’ve looked into it, Giles. And we can’t find any information on a giant gooey green demon thingy that can kill people in their dreams anywhere. If it is The First attacking, we have to focus on it’s more pressing forms of attack first: the ubervamps and the bringers. Girls are dying. And if it’s not The First, then the dreams can definitely wait. I’ll be fine.” General Buffy was out, and she wasn’t about to argue.

Giles purses his lips and adjusts his glasses on the bridge of his nose, but neglects to reply. Willow bites her lip and glances around the group uneasily. Dawn crosses her arms over her chest and sticks her bottom lip out in the patented Summers’ Pout, staring at Buffy with big blue eyes that seem to say you’re being dumb and an idiot.

“Look, Buffy, I’m gonna say what everyone else here is thinking,” Kennedy speaks up in a loud voice. “Don’t be a martyr. You want to make sure you do your job and that girls stop dying on your watch and that we kick this bitch in the ass, cool. But don’t go hurting yourself to make it happen. ‘Cause if we end up taking a fall ‘cause our de facto leader is compromised because she feels the need to crucify herself, that’ll be really stupid.”

Buffy closes her eyes and blows her breath out, trying to tame her annoyance so she won’t snap at the potential. “That’s not what I’m doing, Kennedy, but thanks as always for your input. We have no leads on this dream stuff. We do, however, have leads on the other stuff. So that’s what I’m suggesting we focus on. If you come up with a better plan, make sure to let me know,” Buffy looks intently at Kennedy, who just stares back. “Great,” Buffy turns her gaze to Willow, “now, where’s Spike? Let’s come up with a plan for taking out this vamp nest. And...Faith? She should probably be here if she actually wants to help.” Buffy’s still having a hard time with this whole Faith being around thing, but she’s trying to hide it, or at least not make it super obvious. It probably isn’t working though. But Jesus, Faith just waltzes back into her life, bringing all of her usual chaos along for the ride and all of Buffy’s old negative feelings back up to the surface, basically throwing gas on the forest fire that is this entire situation, and everyone just expects Buffy to be totally cool with it?

“Spike will be back soon. He’s checking that any stray ubervamps from the nest haven’t wandered too close to camp. He said he’ll take out any individual ones he sees, and come get us for groups. I sent Faith grocery shopping—or more like grocery looting—with the potentials. They should be back soon too.”

“I bet she’s having fun with that,” Buffy cracks a small smile thinking about Faith trying to manage dozens of rowdy teens in an abandoned shopping center. Serves her right.