#also also. sorry for the psychic damage this might inflict

[nukacourier]

So here's what I wrote last night. The summary is James and Pierre ended up meeting up again after James had left the Mojave, hooked up, and they both end up learning some things about each other. However it's mainly focused on delving into some of Pierre's backstory.

The story will be added under the cut! I'm gonna go ahead and add warnings for child abuse and mentions of transmasc pregnancy (for those that might get dysphoria from it.)

. . .

James stared at Pierre.

Their few hours of love making should've left them both worn down, but Pierre perched on the other side of the room, only in his pants with her knees pulled to his chest as he stared blankly forward and slowly smoked a cigarette.

James, despite feeling wiped out and sore, didn't feel the need to sleep yet. The way his partner sat in such a melancholy way really tickled the deep empathy that made him unable to leave Pierre alone while clearly in a vulnerable state he'd not often seen him in, let alone attempted to speak to her about it on the rare occasion he had.

"You, um...you okay?" He spoke up from where he stood, idly scratching his chest as he tried to play nonchalant with his inquiry.

Pierre seemed to be slowly dragged to the surface of reality from the depths of their mind, and his blue eyes shifted in James' direction, now peering at him out of the corner of her eye. He remained silent for a moment, maybe contemplative, and took another hit off his cigarette before speaking.

"...I'm merely remembering things and trying not to remember them." He answered vaguely, her voice unusually soft and quiet compared to the usual cocky, boisterous tone held.

James wanted to sit close beside him, but knew better than to get so close while she was smoking, especially since he was still trying to stave off the cravings of his old habit as well.

So he simply decided to only close the gap a little by taking a few steps forward and leaning against the concrete beam in the center of the cellar room with his arms crossed, given that was as close as he estimated he could safely be. Thankfully the airflow kept the secondhand smoke from reaching so far.

Pierre's gaze had transfixed back into nothing, slightly off balance as they more than likely stared off into a memory. By the blank look on his face, James could see it wasn't a good one.

"Do you think maybe talking about it might help?" He prodded cautiously, hoping to pull her back out of whatever dark storm had started brewing in his mind.

Again, silence.

Rather than answer the question, he simply responded with another by pulling a cigarette from the pack beside her and extending his hand towards James with it gently held between two of their bony fingers.

"Care to join me for one?"

James shook his head and politely held up a hand to decline.

"No, I'm trying to quit."

Pierre gave a small, yellowed smile and flipped it around a little between his fingers.

"You know me, I'm not one to judge a man for his vices."

As he teased, this irritated James with the displayed pushiness that had been presented so playfully despite his rejection.

"I said no, don't you listen?" He snapped and accidentally let his annoyance fly into a small spike of anger, but almost immediately felt it crash down to guilt as the playfulness drained from Pierre's face and they once again simply looked tired and hollow.

James rubbed his forehead and sighed.

"Sorry. But I really can't smoke anymore." He reiterated with a more gentle approach.

Pierre nodded slowly and pushed the cigarette back down into the package and flipped it shut. She took one more hit off his own cigarette before plucking it from his lips and putting it out by grinding the glowing tip against the concrete floor while a cloud of smoke funneled out of their nostrils and half-parted lips.

"You've seemed a little different lately, besides the heartbreak." Pierre rambled in observation, smoke still lightly billowing from his mouth.

James thought he heard her mumble something under their breath, but couldn't understand due to the very hushed tone and the fact he was likely speaking in his first language of French instead of English. But he could still hear the bitterness in it, and could assume he was only saying unsavory things about Arcade at the mention of James' emotions over his most recent failed relationship.

"...what do you mean, different?" James murmured in question after a slight pause.

Pierre lightly shrugged and wrapped his arms loosely around his knees.

"Cautious. Anxious. I can tell you don't wish to eat anymore but you force yourself to. I know it is not for me to not worry over you. I've seen you put yourself through worse."

When their steel blue eyes turned back towards James' direction, they weren't focused on his face, but rather his abdomen instead.

"...would my guess be correct that he left you with a child?" He asked gently.

James uncrossed his arms and softly passed a hand over his lower stomach.

"Yeah." James swallowed back the anxiety as he had to acknowledge it.

"Yeah, that guess would be right."

Pierre fanned away the very last remaining traces of smoke in the air and softly patted the bed mat beside her once the surrounding air was clear.

James pulled himself from his resting spot and slowly strutted over, giving a tired grunt as he lowered himself down to sit beside him.

He was surprised as she tilted her head and rested it on James' shoulder, his blonde hair spilling over it while he snuggled close.

"I'm sorry." He heard him mumble.

"For-?" James asked, genuinely confused on what Pierre could be apologizing for. He at least couldn't think of anything that would call for such a sincere tone of voice.

"You don't deserve so much trouble in your life. Not a man like you."

He saw her lift a hand to gently cling to James' arm, giving a soft squeeze of comfort.

He remained quiet, letting the gentle, caring words sink in.

"It's...it's just a life thing. You can't predict what always happens. Can't change the past, either." He finally mumbled out a reply, dodging his own feelings on it.

But he didn't get any response.

Instead Pierre slowly pulled away and sat upright, getting that same distant look on his face. But this time, instead of her face being cold and reserved, it looked softened. He looked deeply tired, like a tiredness in your soul you couldn't possibly ever sleep away.

"I...I have been...distant. The way you've opened up to me, shown me so many good things about you...and everything else." Pierre abruptly stopped mid speech with a very, very deep sigh.

Despite being a good amount taller than James, in the moment she looked so small and frail. His face was reminiscent of a small child trying to brave their fears as she turned his head to look James in the eye.

"It's not fair I've strung you along. That I've let you be so...kind...but I know you truly don't know me. Maybe I liked that, thinking you could love me despite not knowing a single thing about me..."

He turned away, and exhibited a nervous habit Pierre had never shown around James until now; softly stroking small strands of his hair through her fingers as she slowly started to rock back and forth. James could easily recognize these as self-soothing habits usually seen in children or the deeply distressed.

He patiently waited for Pierre to open up at their own pace, curious as to where this was leading, but not wanting to force anything too painful out by prying.

So he simply watched, eyes soft and full of understanding as he waited.

Pierre glanced at him and the rocking slowed to a near halt, although he still gently continued to pass his fingers down small segments of her hair.

"I feel...it'd only be right. Eye for an eye...let you know what I can't forget."

Her voice had become quiet, and croaked a little with strong emotion.

James cautiously reached out and gently grasped at their shoulder, giving it a reassuring rub in attempt to comfort him.

"It's okay. If it's too much to say, I don't mind. Don't hurt yourself over me." His voice wavered a little, but he still spoke calmly as he reassured Pierre that opening up was entirely optional.

But Pierre shook his head, closing her eyes and letting his head hang slightly.

"I need to. I know I do. Where to begin..."

With another weighted sigh, Pierre leaned back and opened their eyes again, staring straight at the ceiling as he started his story.

"I...when I came here, when...we came here, my family—apparently originally we expected to head to the west side of America and...do something. I don't remember. I was very young. I think...three? But life was apparently going to be better there. Easier."

James cocked his head, surprised to hear mention of a family. He never considered that at one point, this lone wolf of a person might've indeed had one at some point in life.

He continued to listen as Pierre continued rambling.

"But...my mother. I remember. She got very sick somehow, I was never told how or why. But my father had been dedicated to take care of her...I became a bit of an afterthought. I was fed, bathed, put to bed...but during this time he never spoke."

Pierre lowered his head again and gazed at the ground, leaning over and poking around at the pebbles and random fragments of debris on the floor.

"...it's funny. I...didn't like it at the time. But looking back on it now, I wish he'd stayed like that."

She gave a gentle sigh, but still carried on, eyes flickering a bit with indescribable pain while the memories had been recalled.

"Another thing I've remembered and wish I never did. The day she died. He pulled me into the room, she was fading...already looked like a corpse. It scared me, she scared me...and I cried. I tried to turn away but he kept me there. I don't know why. Never knew why he did much of what he did. But...I think he might have seen it that he needed to punish me for even taking a moment of his time from her.

So he had me watch as he buried her...he started speaking to me again, after she was gone, but he...he changed. I remember the first thing he said after such months of silent treatment. Ah...'Why are you crying? Shut up. Would you rather be in that hole instead of her? I wish it was that way instead.' But you know, it wasn't English. So my repeat may be rough."

James felt his throat tighten.

He was already feeling sorry about the state of the story beforehand but this new turn in it hit him like a truck, and he could feel his heart breaking for Pierre as she pushed through his story.

"That's an awful thing to say to a child." He managed to choke out a whisper.

Pierre bobbed his head slowly in a nod of agreement. She took a moment to be silent again, still pushing around small pebbles and tiny chips of glass and just absent-mindedly sorting them into various piles.

It took a long moment of quiet, only the noise of the occasional rock scraping over concrete as Pierre continued the habitual sorting, before another word was spoken.

"Like I said, he changed. To him I was nothing more than some sort of pest. He could not stand to see me. He left me to my room...I'd spend days, I think, alone. Pissing myself and having to leave waste on the floor like an unwanted animal. But I think...I even preferred that over being let out when he would remember I was still alive and would need food or water. I think he only did that to save himself the trouble of smelling a dead body.

Every time that door creaked open...I was met with insults. Um...physical hurt, too. Smacked, punched, kicked. Pure hatred. Being told I am a waste of resources and I would've been traded for my mother if it were possible. I learned to stay quiet in there...he'd forget me if I was. I could...live off some things. Rusty condensation off broken pipes...peeling thin strips of wood off the wall just to get anything in my stomach.

Because I was no longer his child. I was his mistake. His target to scream all his dark, twisted thoughts at. To be used at his hand so he could see pain on another creature that wasn't himself. I..."

His tone was unnervingly nonchalant at first, but that curtain had fallen and Pierre's voice wavered with pain.

James saw his hands visibly shaking, and the chip of concrete she held in his fingers fell on to the ground with a quiet clatter.

He couldn't bear to let them continue without any form of reassurance, but was at a total loss for words.

So many things swam through his head that it was probably just as useful now as it would've been empty.

So instead of saying anything, he simply leaned in and gently wrapped his arm around Pierre's shoulders and gave a small, comforting squeeze.

Pierre trembled in his grasp, and her voice became more frantic and shaky as more words tumbled from his mouth.

"It was hell. I didn't even know why I was kept around when I was hated so much. Some days I wished he'd have taken me out back and shot me like the dog he treated me like—that he'd just end the suffering for me. Why did he do it? Why? Why?!"

Pierre did something James had never seen him do.

He crumpled over, pulling her knees tighter to his chest as he covered his face with his hands and let out a loud, painful sob.

James pulled them even closer, wrapping him in a full hug as his pitiful, muffled wails still drifted out from behind their hands.

Feeling like words would be useless at the moment, he resorted to stroking his hair rhythmically as he rested his cheek on top of Pierre's head.

"Shh, shh...you're not there anymore...you have me now."

He managed to coo out after he'd forced the words past the hard lump of emotion that had embedded in his throat.

Pierre still whimpered and sobbed miserably in his arms, and he could feel tears stinging his own eyes. He was unable to stop them from leaving his eyes and rolling down his face, but continued to hold and stroke Pierre's hair in comfort.

They sat together like this long enough that James' legs had fallen asleep, and his arms were threatening to as well by the time Pierre's intense sobbing had dialed down to stifled hiccups and whimpers.

"Hey, listen...that was a lot of heavy stuff to get off your chest. It's okay if you want to leave it there for now. I won't be going anywhere." He mumbled caringly, gazing down at Pierre even though all he could see was their vaguely hunched over figure and the top of his head.

She shuffled in his arms a bit, pressing closer to James before lifting his head to stare at him.

He looked awful, with their face red and puffy and visible, glistening streaks lining his face from both her eyes and nose. His eyes were bloodshot and looked as though it stung to even keep them open as they blinked groggily at James.

"J-James...stay with me forever?"

Pierre's sore voice carried a genuine innocence nestled in the pain of it that had made James' chest tighten with pity.

He reached a hand down and gently swept some messy strands of hair out of their face and tucked it behind his ears.

"I will. Forever and ever." He murmured lovingly as he lifted his t-shirt to wipe away the still damp tear stains off her face.

Pierre dutifully turned his head into each wipe, then sniffled loudly and lowered their head to press it back against James' chest.

He let out a shuddering sigh as James went back to softly stroking her messy hair.

As James silently held her, he could feel the unsteady, pained breaths even out, becoming slower and deeper until eventually he was certain he had fallen asleep in his arms.

Finally feeling deeply tired, James decided to gently lower both of them down on to the bed mat.

Pierre remained asleep, and as James caught a glimpse of his resting, peaceful face, he could see that poor, broken child still held within her.

It made him look so gentle. Like he had waited all this time to be able to receive the comfort he should've gotten all those years ago.

"Can't change the past." James tiredly and quietly repeated his statement from earlier.

"But I wish I could for you."

He softly kissed Pierre on the top of the head and rested his own on the mat, his eyes feeling heavy as they closed and immediately getting pulled down into a deep, warm slumber.

[sodrippy]

we are the daughters of parents who should have gotten divorced

[nebulousmedic]

I saw some tier lists on Twitter and they were inflicting a lot of psychic damage upon me. Anyway merc dad tier list

So here's mine! I think Spy gets WAY too much shit.... He seems to care for Jeremy AT LEAST to some degree. I don't think it's a coincidence that they ended up landing the same job, honestly. I could actually see Spy being decent-ish if his identity didn't, y'know, force him to leave his family for safety reasons. You betcha he pays child support tho.

Sorry Py and Solly lovers, I think they'd be a right mess. You can let them play with your kids under a VERY watchful eye. But that's it.

if Medic had a kid I think they'd turn out kinda traumatized.... Or, at least they'd be eerily desensitized to blood and viscera. He's one of those parents that doesn't know how to play- well, not with toys anyways. Worst dad jokes. Very embarrassing, probably scares off any other kids with his presence and eerie smile.

Sniper strikes me as those "hands off" kinda parents?? exposing kids to controlled danger, teaching them to hunt and such. He's probably seen as a "cool dad" by the other kids due to his tough and rugged appearance. Both him and Medic would struggle opening up emotionally to their kids, and they wouldn't know what to do when the kid is struggling as well.

Yeah Scout was the youngest out of 8, BUT that means that at least one of them had to have kids, there's a very high chance that he got to do all the kid caring stuff many times, being and uncle. I feel like he's pretty good with emotions and whatnot. He's definitely the kinda dad to be super involved in his kids' friend circle and play with them as much as he can (wether it be boys or girls, he doesn't care). If his kid didn't like sports he'd be sad but try to find common ground with them in other things.

I don't have a lot to say about Engie and Demo. Demoman obviously has alcoholism problems but I think he'd -try- to tone it down for the kids' sake. Like he wouldn't be able to quit for sure, but he's drunk less frequently. He definitely wouldn't want the kid to see him like that. I feel like he's a very sweet dad, very silly and encouraging. Definitely cries when he pauses and realizes how fast they grow up.

As for Engie, I feel like he needs a bit of anger management, he doesn't snap at his kids or anything but he does get very frustrated (it is visible) and has to walk away and leave for a while. Very good parenting other than that and submerging himself in work. Maybe a bit strict at times.

Heavy is.... Pretty much perfect in my eyes. He's patient, sweet, smart, stable. Knows how to deal with kids even if they're throwing tantrums. Very mature, but he also knows how to let go and be a child himself. He might be a little overprotective at first, but after he realizes that, he'll pause and think about it and how to deal with it. He constantly keeps himself in check, asking if he's doing a good job. 10/10 please give me piggyback.

[lynn-tged-posting]

tged webtoon ep 160 spoilers and thoughts that i am a tad bit late on (sorry abt that) below the cut

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bugs when you lift a rock

I REALLY REALLY LIKED THIS EP IT WAS SUPER COOL AND THE BALANCE BETWEEN THE GAGS AND THE COOL PANELS WAS GREAT

i fucking love . javier being smug so so much THIS WAS SO FUCKING FUNNY HAHAAHAHHAA bud knows his worth fr he really looks like an angel

they're so stupid /aff what's wrong with them

AND RAPHAEL'S WEAPON REVEAL. HOLY FUCKING SHIT.

I LOVE LOVE LOVE GIGANTIC WEAPONRY. IT'S MY FAVORITE THING EVER WHEN WEAPONS OF CHOICE ARE ABSURDLY HUGE AND THIS REALLY REALLY WINS THAT. ALSO I AM TERRIFIED FOR THEM BECAUSE OH MY GOD THIS LOOKS SCARY but also it having a very normal Office Product Name is HILARIOUS LOL yes the multipurpose business hammer. for business. it's big but don't worry about it .

we also have a date for when the great war in the mythical age occurred! i haven't quite started a whole Lorasia Timeline thing yet but thisll be useful for future reference i think

plus plus, the way the jewel of truth tells the truth,,, is by bypassing the heavenly realms rules and accessing something beyond that. it could be related to the system that lloyd is using? or when javier became a grandmaster how his mana changed to something beyond the laws of causality , or whatever that was. might be related!!!

THE PRAYER GAG WAS FUNNY BUT ALSO MADE MY HEART ACHE BECAUSE- LIKE OKAY THE "also i want to live life selfishly and freely in retirement" IS SO REAL OF HIM BUT ALSO

i really truly believe that this second panel is how he really truly feels. living like a bum aside, lloyd has always put others first, he's always protected other people before himself. lloyd also tends to always try and take things into his own hands, taking the reins and pulling things into his control, so that he can achieve this unknowingly noble goal of protecting those close to him.

it makes the fact that the moment he heard about making a prayer he does it IMMEDIATELY, so so so heartache to me; maybe i'm overanalyzing/overthinking these things, but as someone who doesn't quite believe in higher power and also as someone with a lot of easily-hurtable pride:

do you realize what it takes to fall to your knees, to beg and to pray to be heard, to be at the mercy of someone else, for something you want?

that HURTS a LOT. seeing lloyd immediately bow his head and pray like this. he's desperate not to lose it all - he can't, not when the goal is so close - and fighting the angel really isnt smth they should do at all bc people would get hurt. and so he's on his knees for someone else to grant that privilege of building this jewel of truth... it could be my perspective / feelings influencing how i perceive this ofc, maybe it's really not that deep, but it Hurt me and i felt the need to explain why LMFAO

anyway, me inflicting psychic damage on myself aside, JAVIER VS RAPHAEL!!! THEIR WHOLE FIGHT IS SO SO COOL AND JAVIER LOOKS FUCKING INSANE /POS

the sheer power of their collisions/parrying sending REVERBERATIONS LIKE THAT is so fucking CRAZY javier has grown so so strong and the fact that he's sparring w an ANGEL is so fucking COOL GOD THIS IS SO COOL

AND THE CLOSEUPS ON JAVIERS FACE TOO THEY MAKE ME INSANE LIKE WHAT THE SHIT HE'S SO FUCKING COOL

LIKE NO FUCKING WONDER HE WAS THE MAIN CHARACTER OF TKOBAI HE LOOKS AND ACTS THE PART SO SO WELL HE'S SO MAIN CHARACTER SHAKES HIM AROUND HE'S SO COOL

poor lloyd tho the sounds of the fight fucking him up bc of the swordmaster syndrome RIP though it does look like he's handling it better than before!

there's still a lot of push and blur bc of the overwhelming sounds but it feels less chaotic and messy than the panels from last ep, like it looks more controlled i think? like the lineart looks much more stable here, so it seems like the meditation/training helped!!!

ALSO ALSO SOLITAS YAYAYAYAYAYY ITS MY BOY MY FAVORITE SIDE CHAR the mid-transformation panels are so so cool!!! so many awesome things this week heehee

AND VERKIS YAYYY YAYAYAYAYY honestly yeah it tracks that the three biggest powers on lorasia fighting at all would just. fuck up the world good thing he stopped solitas,,, even if solitas doesnt know who he is HAHAHA LMFAOOO "... who are you?" HAHAHA

OH AND BACK TO THE FIGHT RAPHAEL'S HALO THAT'S SUCH A COOL MECHANIC

that's so cool that the halo can be used defensively like this!!! and it stands just fine after one of javier's strikes too that's so crazy

it makes a lot of design sense too w the way he's dressed, and also with the sheer SIZE of his weapon; you'd think that he'd have like, armor or something if he was going somewhere expecting a fight, but all he's wearing is a nice clean white suit. but that's cause the halo does all the defense work for him!!! and with the weapon too like, if you need to suddenly defend but you're in the middle of an attack and unable to shift your momentum, the halo's got you covered! it'd be hellish trying to stop your trajectory with the swing of a hammer THAT large, it looks like its made of straight up metal/steel, so when you swing you HAVE to follow through. u wouldn't be able to really defend with it

im just saying all the same stuff at this point but GOD THIS IS COOL AND CLEAN HALO MECHANICS I LIKE IT A LOT

the effects in general are just SOOOO awesome in this episode im really happy about that heehee, the artist rlly popped off!!

AND FINALLY,,, LLOYD PREPARES TO SING,,,

THE FUCKING DEMON SHAPE IN THE SHADOW BEHIND HIM OH MY GODDD HAHAHAAA

see like. i'm genuinely wondering whether or not this'll work or if it'll like, cancel out like PEMDAS, cause like raphael would be considered a holy creature, right? and lloyd's singing is considered demonic, and so those two powers are opposites, so would it be like neutralized overall?? like would raphael just lose his power, or maybe lose control of his halo, or would he actually take damage from his singing?

sorry that's really silly HAHA but i thought it'd be funny to think about, im really excited to see where this fight goes!!!! i really hope we get more cool moments this is so sick i'm so excited!!!!

okay okay thats it hehe see y'all next week (as in later this week lmfao)

[i-sveikata]

I just saw your ask about the hedgehog and realized that I don't remember the show at all lol

I watched KP shortly after it came out, read fics about VP for a few weeks and then moved on. I kept up with the wips I subbed to and Graveyards is the only one still going (and I'm so happy it is)

The reason I'm explaining this is because Graveyards = Canon in my head and I only realized while reading your post that it's not 🤣

I've reread Gravyards a bunch of times over the years but I only watched the show once, so your Vegas and Pete are the ONLY Vegas and Pete in my head. Now that I'm thinking about it, I'm pretty sure I described VP's story as it happened in Graveyards to a friend who was asking about KP oops haha 😅

Sorry for the super long ask, it was just a strange realization and I thought perhaps it might interest you to know that your characters and their motivations are intriguing and fleshed out enough to have completed imprinted themselves onto someone's memory of the ship itself

Omg lmao I’m gonna be honest I don’t know that I remember it all that much anymore either 😅😅

Oh wow that sounds like such a surreal experience!! Honestly kind of love and am also kind of fearful of the blending of fandom and canon in the brain. Like until you go back and drink from the primary source canon again and it kind of gets a reset- until that everything kind of meshes together. Also the psychic damage u just inflicted on me by saying you’ve read this fic over the years (me horrified and literally remembering that I started it in 2022: what? NO! WHAT?!?) insane insane insane!! Ahhh that’s literally so sweet!! Those little guys in graveyards are the only ones existing in my head a little bit too! But it is kind of fascinating to hear how it works in the fandom brain for readers. Ngl love that you’ve been casually telling fic plot points to friends as if that’s tv show canon that’s incredible lol

No don’t be sorry at all! It is such a kind of weird and amazing and bizarre phenomenon I love to hear about it!!! Love to imprint my fic upon you hehe

[literaphobe]

Realistically, who'd win in a fight between the feral boys?

u know what? i’ll give u one more. i’m gonna go through each feral boy dynamic and determine who i think would win and lose in each face off. bear in mind that i might change my mind about this on any other day so take it w a pinch of salt:

Dream vs George: tie. george would do some dumb move or talk/react in a crazy way that’ll make dream laugh and go ‘ur making me laugh that’s not even fair 🤣’ he’ll like somehow twist it into claiming george is cheating because he did some dumb underhand move or found a ticklish spot n call the whole fight off saying he’d have won anyway unless george fouled like the filthy cheater he is n then george would probably b like ok fine then let me hit u once just to see if it would hurt and dream would let him and anyone watching it would find it incredibly bizarre but that’s just how they are

Sapnap vs George: im sorry but he’s drop kicking george the second he walks through the door either that or he hugs him and cries for a solid hour. they’ll end up hanging out for hours even after fighting tho n i think george would prob be the one to convince dream to get their home gym set up so he could have one more outlet to amuse himself with. he’d watch the Buff Sapnap arc unfold as he plays w a gym bouncy ball and tells sapnap he isn’t bench pressing enough weight n needs to double the load. anyway sapnap would crush him easy. he’s been loading up on protein n greens this entire time n playing basketball n going ollie on his skateboard. george had a grape the other day and thought it was gonna make him buff and his source of protein is mcdonald’s nuggets. he also struggles to open windows in cable cars. most importantly, he has NOT to my knowledge, went ollie on a skateboard. sapnap wins hands down

Quackity vs George: trickier than you might think actually. because funnily enough quackity is one of the biggest victims of the GeorgeNotFound™ effect. yes i think quackity if pushed past his breaking point could absolutely pummel the shit out of george but george has a mouth as much as quackity has fists and sometimes all he needs to say is ‘Are You Done Now?’ or ‘I’m Leaving, If You Don’t Stop/Give Me What I Want Right Now I’m Actually Leaving’ and then it becomes a REAL toss up. victor of this fight changes depending on the day

Karl vs George: hm. george wins. no. karl wins. no. they both lose

Dream vs Sapnap: sapnap talks a big game of how he could take any of these dudes he could kick anyone’s ass he’s so strong he’s gonna rip em all apart but—he can’t wake dream up for an among us game? :/ he’s too scared to go into dream’s room? :/ he HIMSELF thinks dream could kick his ass? sorry sapnap if u don’t believe in urself n think height is everything n whatever aura dream has is everything then what can i do 😔 guess dream wins this one

Quackity vs Sapnap: huh. would it be weird to say that i think they are evenly matched based on what i know of them? like they’re equally physically intimidating as they are physically not intimidating. they would both talk SO much smack tho. so much that they might not actually fight. idk. quackity’s like boxed right? but also sapnap’s won that mr beast extreme tag thing. but also i literally do not know. not to give a cop out answer again but… t-tie? but in the sense where. they know it would be So evenly matched that if they actually fought for real they’d just both end up super injured w no clear winner

Karl vs Sapnap: karl paints his nails and that gives him super powers. he could probably knock sapnap out in one punch. PROVIDED he can find him. not only is sapnap a hide and seek champion he is clearly a full fledged skater boi now. he is so fast. he is zooming away on those wheelies as we speak. where will he go

Quackity vs Karl: i think karl would win but it’s an accident like. karl kicks a chair and it goes flying and quackity takes 10 damage. or karl falls over and crashes onto quackity. the whole fear of accidentally getting murdered by karl’s clumsiness/recklessness might throw quackity off enough for him to lose

Dream vs Karl: my mind is admittedly blanking at this one. i don’t know. i don’t think either of them would fight each other even if u forced them. i don’t think there is a Bone in either of their bodies that r willing to or care for antagonizing the other. they would probably hug n then like stage some half assed fight where it ends with them Winning Together or they take turns winning or dream ‘lets karl win’ and someone might point out that implies dream thinks He would win and then karl gets like jokingly passive aggressive about it

Quackity vs Dream: in some ways? fight of the century. absolute hoedown throwdown. this is the shortest person in the gc vs the tallest person we’re talking about. the two people who are Known for ‘fighting’ over the ‘love’ of ‘GeorgeNotFound’. buuuuuuut they also like each other a lot n want the other to like them a lot so much. buuuuuuut they also have a propensity for shit talking each other. i think dream might win but he might also cry from whatever psychic damage q inflicts but at the same time quackity might like pretend he threw on purpose n let dream win or he would use his loss as leverage over dream somehow and call him a very mean not good bully who bullies people physically over getting shoved slightly during the ‘fight’. OR dream makes one joke about how quackity is so short he has to bend over just to fight him or he purposely misses a punch and says he couldn’t reach because quackity’s too low and this causes q to see red meaning game over for dream

[ddarker-dreams]

i dont know if tumblr ate up my ask but i think it did,,

anyways did you watch the 2.2 livestream!! and the concert!! i sent my original ask right after i was done watching 😭😭 childe!!!!!!!!!!!! i’m gonna blow all my primos on him pls childe ily

also the albedo piece!! too many exclamation marks im sorry but im so excited it’s not FAIR why is albedo still so,, sigh. even when he’s kissing the reader when they’re asleep.

hope you’re doing well! look after yourself lock!!

i didn't watch the livestream, but i snatched up the promotional codes as people posted them... i'm excited that childe is coming back for those who didn't get him yet though!! good luck on your journey of obtaining him. i think i might try to pull for his weapon, although the last time i tried to get a weapon (the raiden shogun's) it was... ahem. a time of weakness.

the concert was stunning though aaaa <3 genshin might not be perfect, but the music is. phew. i can't think of anything more fitting than the ost for the game.

albedo inflicts psychic damage on us because of how hot he is ,, there's something about intelligent men. it's just very powerful and draws you in.

i've been doing well, i appreciate you checking in 🥺🥺 i've been reading a lot more lately and enjoying that!! i hope that you're doing good as well <333

[huntertales]

Part Four: Two Down, One More To Go. (Taxi Driver S08E19)

Episode Summary: Sam, Dean and the reader respond to a call from a terrified Kevin who claims to hear Crowley’s voice in his head. Also with the good news that he’s discovered the second trial from the tablet—rescue an innocent soul from hell. The reader has to team up with a reaper named Ajay to complete the task, meanwhile the boys get a visit from the angel Naomi. But when things go awry, Dean must find Benny and ask him for a huge favor. Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader Gif Credit: thejabberwock Word Count: 4,066.

Previous Part | Supernatural Rewrite Masterlist

For a second you thought Benny's shortcut out of Purgatory didn't work when you found yourself in the middle of the woods again, darkness engulfing your vision as you steadied yourself on the foreign ground. You couldn't quite see much of where you were going. The ache in your legs from all the walking you had been doing made it feel like it was impossible for you to last much longer, but you forced yourself to push through the pain. There was something different about this place from Purgatory. The air smelled fresher than before, there was the sounds of insects and nocturnal wildlife were going on about their evening. As you continued walking up a small hill that took the breath out of your lungs, the thought if the boys had made it here on time crossed your mind. You didn't even know how long you were gone. All you knew was that you wanted to get this trial done once and for all. 

You hiked through a few more feet of leaves and trees to help steady yourself upwards until you saw a small opening through some branches. You stopped for a moment to catch your breath and look ahead in front of you. You squint your eyes slightly when you saw two figures ahead of you. Your grip around the demon knife tightened when you thought it might have been the very same person who nearly got you stuck in Purgatory in the first place. However you felt it loosen at the sight of two faces. You weren't sure who was more relieved to see you, all you knew for sure that you were over the moon to see the boys. 

Dean appeared to be filled to the brim with anxiety, and seeing your face was the only thing he wanted most of all. Sam's head was running wild with all the things that could have gone wrong after he sent Benny off to get you. But when he saw you standing there with a smirk across your lips at how worried they looked, he felt himself breathing a little easier at seeing you back in one piece. “Miss me, boys?”

Dean wasted no time in pulling you into his embrace, wrapping his arms around your body and pressed your body against his close as possible. He wanted to make sure that you were very much real and okay. You buried your face into his chest and shut your eyes, allowing yourself for the first time in almost two days to finally relax. You felt safe in Dean's arms, the only place that felt like home wherever you went. Dean squeezed you a little harder and rocked you slightly back and forth, relieving himself of the panic running through his mind since you left. 

All though he never wanted you to be putting yourself through this kind of danger in the first place, the both of you had a new sense of respect for each other. More than ever before. Dean survived a year in Purgatory, you barely managed to stay alive for two days. He never thought you were going to be able to carry yourself through just one trial. Here you were after going to Purgatory and Hell, not a single scratch on your body running straight to the finish line and into his arms. 

Dean had to squeeze you one more time before he let you go to breathe. While you were allowed to inhale a few deep breaths of the crisp night air, Sam wasted no time in pulling you into his embrace. The difference between the boys hugs was that Sam sometimes forgot his own strength. You wrapped your arms around his waist as you enjoyed the feeling of him close to you, both of you enjoying the moment. Sam accidentally forgot that you weren't his size and needed to breathe for a while, causing you to let out a warning before he quickly pulled away, muttering a sorry for the accidental discomfort he caused you. You smiled at his behavior and shook your head, knowing it was a lot better than the things you just went through. 

“Purgatory, right? A real garden spot, ain’t it?” Dean asked you. Both of you knew the horrors of that place was nothing to joke about, but being out of there made you quietly laugh at how he described it. While it was nice that you were back in one piece, you didn't go there to see the sights. "Did you get him out?"

You opened your mouth to answer his question, but you hesitated for a few seconds at the news you had to break to the older Winchester. “Only Bobby.” 

“What?” You felt your heart sink at how all of this unfolded, wishing that it ended more differently with a positive twist. The both of you hoped that a certain vampire could have gotten a better life on the outside, but you didn’t always get what you wanted. "I mean, that's fantastic about Bobby." 

“Dean, look—Benny, uh...he got us out. But a bunch of vampires showed up out of nowhere, and he used himself as bait. I got the feeling that even if it didn’t happen, he didn’t want to come back, you know?” You explained to him about the details that went down. You didn’t want for this to happen, you wished that he was back here and you could have given him a chance to make it up to him. Dean tried not to hide the disappointment at the news. “I’m sorry, Dean.” 

Dean nodded his head slowly, understanding why Benny would do such a thing. The vampire's talk about not fitting in made a lot more sense. He didn't like Purgatory, but home wasn't what he thought it was. "You're probably right." 

"So, uh...Bobby," Sam found himself feeling slightly disappointed at hearing how Benny wanted to go back to that place so badly. There was a moment in time where he would have gladly sent the vampire back down there himself, because he judged him too quickly. However, maybe there was a point down the line when all of this hell business was taken care of he could return the favor. Sam smiled slightly at the mention of someone he hadn't seen in a while, for you it was even longer. He wanted to know how the reunion between the both of you went. "How'd he hold up down there?"

“He’s good. All things considered. He sure as hell gave me an earful about seeing me and what I was doing in hell. And then some. But...it felt so damn good to see him one last time.” You said. You felt yourself chuckling slightly at Bobby’s personality that never changed. Not even after all this time and some time in Hell “Oh. And he’s still ornery as hell, of course.”

“As he should be.” Dean said. “Let’s put that old man where he belongs.” 

You couldn't agree more with that plan, having two people hitching a ride in your skin was more than you could handle. You pulled up the sleeve of your jacket and began speaking the words that Kevin told you to do in order for this trial to be complete. As you did so, you dragged the knife across your skin to cut it open and let Bobby's soul free from your body. You stepped back slightly and watched as his soul began to descend to the nighttime sky, his final destination of Heaven above where he would hopefully get the proper rest where he deserved. 

You watched as his soul made it to the top of the trees and just there, you furrowed your brow slightly at the hitch in your plan that was stopping Bobby from going upstairs. You hadn’t done anything like this before, but you had a feeling this wasn’t how it was supposed to go. All you knew for sure that was something was going wrong from what happened next. Bobby's soul was turning into a dark cloudy sky, making you wonder for a second if you had done something to botch the trial. Maybe you pronounced a word wrong, maybe Benny's help of escaping Purgatory was what messed this up. You didn't take into consideration there was an outside force trying to put a stop to your plans.

“What the hell?” You muttered under your breath. 

“Hello, boys. Kitten.” You felt your grip around the demon knife tighten at the sound of a familiar voice, along with the stupid nickname. You slowly looked away from Bobby's soul and the demon holding it in his clutches. There Crowley stood in all of his glory. He might not have been able to botch your escape from Purgatory after wrongfully smuggling yourself in there, but there was no way he was letting his favorite soul escape so easily. "Bobby Singer—I'd know you anywhere." 

“Let him go, Crowley.” Dean ordered at the demon. “He doesn’t belong in Hell.” 

“He does if I say he does. He’s inflicted untold damage on my kind.” Crowley said. “From where I sit, actually, hell’s too good for him.” 

You suddenly found yourself overwhelmed with a new burst of energy at the things Crowley was saying which would have destroyed all the hard work you put into completing this trial. You put one foot in front of the other, getting ready to charge at him and ending the demon’s pathetic life once and for all. Before you could plunge the knife into his chest like you wanted for the past handful of years, you felt yourself being thrown backwards into the air and falling on your back, a rough landing to the ground with only dead leaves to cushion the blow. Crowley thought it would be funny to throw you around like a rag doll. You weren’t laughing at the matter. 

You had to admit the fall took the breath out of your lungs and caused you to lay there for a few seconds, trying not to panic at how bad this must be for the baby. You were pretty sure being thrown around and enduring psychical endurance like this was frowned upon for women in your condition. But you pushed through the discomfort and got up to a sitting position, blinking a few times to try and make Crowley stop spinning in circles around you. For a moment the demon thought he had won this fight fair and square, little did he take into consideration there was another team player who had been watching on the sidelines, waiting for the right moment to step in when needed to do so. Sort of like when the king of hell didn’t want to play fair. 

Crowley's smug look quickly fell on his face when he saw Bobby's soul was being taken out of his control, by someone that could play on his level. He looked to see it was an angel poking her nose in business where it didn't belong. "Oh, come on!" 

"Let me see if I've interpreted the situated correctly." Naomi, the angel that the boys had known from their first encounter with her, decided to lend a helping hand when you needed it the most. "Y/N Y/L/N and the Winchesters have freed an innocent from Hell, to which you are wrongfully trying to return it."

“Siding with them, Naomi? You don’t know those three.” Crowley warned the angel about who she was putting her trust into. “Before they’re done, we’ll both be locked away.” 

“I’m just hoping they lock you away, dear.” Naomi said. “The rest I’ll figure out.” 

“Bureaucrat.” Crowley hissed at the angel. “You’re fighting outside your weight class.” 

It seemed Crowley had hit a nerve inside Naomi at the insult she took personal. She lifted her hand and got ready to smite the demon once and for all, but it seemed Crowley understood that he was better to run off before he signed himself to hell with no way out. The angel smiled to herself at how easy and skittish demons could be when faced against a challenge. She wasted not a second longer freeing Bobby from the demon's clutches and the boys from their hold against the trees they had been pinned against, letting them drop to the ground. You grabbed Dean's hand that helped you up to your two feet as you watched Bobby's soul descend onto heaven, where he belonged to rest for however long it might be. You looked over at the angel you had never met before, and awfully friendly from most of her siblings you met in the past.

“I told you you could trust me.” Naomi said.

You furrowed your brow slightly at her parting words before she vanished from sight. All of what just went down made you wonder what went down with the boys while you were gone. You turned your head to give them a confused look. “What the hell was that all about?”

“We’ll tell you later.” Dean said. “Let’s just get this trial done.” 

You couldn't have agreed more with the man's suggestion. You wasted no time in patting around your pockets for the piece of paper for the last spell you needed to say in order for this trial to be completed. All you remembered from completing the first trial was how much of an impact it took on your body the days following afterwards. The psychical pain that followed after saying the words of enocian vanished from your mind, but they quickly came back to remind you. When the last word fell from your lips, you were finally done with the trial. You were about to let out a sigh of relief, only the next thing that came out of your mouth was a noise from the sudden pain you felt in your right arm. 

You felt your left hand grip around your other arm at the excruciating amount of pain you remembered happening before after you completed the first trial. You tried your hardest to fight through the sensation as you stumbled forward a few steps, only for your knees to give out. You bit your bottom lip at the pain, like it was turning into a burning sensation you never felt before. Your right arm was glowing...it was so strange, and yet so painful. You stared at it for a few seconds, not realizing the boys were hovering over you and shouting your name in fear at what they saw unfolding. As the pain and light began to subside, you finally were able to breathe properly for the first time since you started this journey.

“It’s okay! It’s okay! I’m fine.” You tried to reassure the boys. You looked up to their worried faces and gave them a smile, wanting them to know that you were really okay. “I’m good. We’re good.” 

+ + +

You sat in the backseat of the Impala for the first time in almost two excruciating long days. After all the things you had been through, from walking around Purgatory and sneaking yourself into Hell, it came as no surprise you were in need of a long slumber. But you wanted to check up on Kevin to make sure he was okay. You stared out the window and watched as the nighttime scenery passed you by. Dean took his gaze off the road every once in a while to check up on you while Sam waited to hear any sounds of coughing. You were content for the moment. Not a single peep came out from you. Still, Dean couldn't help himself but worry at how this was going to affect your body. It wouldn’t have been the first time you lied about your health.

“You okay?” Dean couldn’t help himself but ask once again to you. 

You looked away from the window and straight ahead, nodding your head. “I’ll live.” 

"I buried Benny, by the way. But I didn't burn his bones. After he said he'd get try and get you out of there, it didn't seem right." Dean waited a few seconds before admitting something about the vampire that saved your life. "I know Sammy has no use for him and you don't want him in our lives anymore, but—"

"No, no, no. You know what? I get it. I do. He's a little different from what I thought." Sam admitted about his change of heart for the vampire after the selfless act he did for them. "So, go ahead and leave the door open if you want. I'm sure Y/N agrees with me. Right?"

"Totally. Hell, once this is all over I'll throw him a welcome back party." You said. You shifted around in your seat and leaned forward slightly to rub your lower back from the ache that must've appeared from the sitting you weren't used to. It must be from the fall you took earlier tonight. "First thing's first. Let's go check in with Prophet Boy and see where he stashed that tablet." 

+ + +

The boys had left Kevin in a bit of a fragile state of mind after trying to reassure him once again that he was okay. You knocked on the door to the boat house, waiting a few moments for the kid to get himself out of his closet and answer the door. A minute or so passed with nothing. Not even a single noise came from the other side of the door. You let out a sigh of annoyance, deciding to go inside yourself to see what the big deal was about. You announce your arrival and stepped inside first, the boys following right after into a dark boat which wasn’t like Kevin.

You pulled out your flashlight to help guide the way as you made your way into the place, peering over every corner to see if you might be able to find Kevin hiding somewhere and away from Crowley. You called out the kid’s name a few times as you made your way into the open space where Kevin worked frequently. The flashlight scanned the entire place, but there was no trace of the prophet. Hell, there wasn’t even a trace of human life. You felt your breathing slowly turn heavier when Dean made his way around, finding the lights to turn them on. Only to show what you already had expected—the kid ran for the hills. 

“He’s gone.” Sam said, coming back from his sweep around the boat to see there was no trace of anything. Not even a scrap of clothing. Kevin grabbed all of his stuff and booked it. “He took our stuff, his notes…” 

“I saw this coming. Finally freaked.” Dean muttered. “Little geek made a run for it.” 

“Yeah, but where?” The younger Winchester asked. 

You felt your grip around the flashlight tighten, to the point where you felt your fingers might break from what was going on. The little prophet better had hid himself somewhere deep and underground. Because when you got your hands on him you were going to rip apart. There was nothing Crowley could do that would even touch the anger you were feeling right now. All he had to do was stick around for a little while longer. You had one more trial to do until this was all over. Nothing was going to stand in your way from getting what you wanted. Not the king of hell. Not even a scared little prophet. You were going to close the gates of hell. Once and for all.

+ + +

You were beyond pissed for how tonight ended up with a prophet on the loose for the second time. Right when you had a victory, life didn't waste a second knocking you down a peg to humble you and make the fight just a little bit harder. You wanted nothing more than to crawl into bed and sleep away the anger before you broke something. Tomorrow morning you were going to figure out a way to track down the kid and bring him back. But in order for your mind to work properly, you needed a decent night's sleep. And a shower to wash away the stench that came with running around Purgatory and smuggling yourself into Hell.

You weren’t sure how long you were in the shower, but you were taking advantage of the endless hot water and amazing pressure that felt like sweet relief on your lower back that was still hurting. After scrubbing every inch of your body and smelling like a rose, you got yourself out of the shower and grabbed your robe Dean had given to you shortly after moving into the bunker. Since you refused to wear a dead man’s one. You made your way over to the sinks and wiped away the fog off the mirror, taking a moment to inspect your reflection.Truth be told, you were tired. These trials weren’t a walk in the park. It showed on your face from the slight dark circles and how sluggish you were feeling. 

You polished off dinner and then some when you got into the bunker, knowing you and the baby were beyond famished. You felt the ache in your back starting to grow worse. While you were debating on taking something for it, you slowly found your attention drifting away from the ache. And to the familiar tickle in the back of your throat. You let out a few short coughs before composing yourself, nothing out of the ordinary to scare you. The thought lasted for a second before you were hit with a coughing fit that look the breath out of your lungs. You leaned over the sink and coughed up something, enough for the liquid to hit the sink. Grimacing, you spit it out, making you taste it again...the blood. 

You felt your breathing growing heavier at the familiar sight of the crimson color. Instead of clinging to your hand, this time you saw it clear as day when it stained the porcelain white sink. You couldn’t deny these trials were doing something to your body. Cas said they were hurting you in ways that he couldn’t heal. But you knew your body better than anyone. You slowly reached out a finger to touch a droplet of blood, getting just enough on the tip. You put out your tongue and tasted the droplet for yourself, wondering why it was different this time. 

Your blood wasn’t...well, like everyone else’s. It ran with a little bit of different demons that ruined your life, who’s shared goal was for you to turn into one of them.m. You had Azazel’s, Lilith’s, possibly Ruby’s and so many other demons Lucifer slaughtered for you to turn you into what he always wanted. You were poisoned from the inside out. Sam had his own share of demon blood that made him crazy. But all of it vanished when he freed Lucifer from the cage. And he might have gotten rid of yours after a while. You couldn’t be quite sure. You would remember the taste of demon blood. It was different from than human’s. And this was it.

The blood you coughed up wasn’t rich like iron, it didn’t feel like you were sucking on pennies while you still had some lingering in your mouth. This stuff made you think back to the horrors of it sliding down your throat against your will. Trying to vomit it back up after Lilith left. Being tied down to a chair and having Lucifer hold onto your jaw, forcing you to drink down the blood of a demon he drained just for you. It was demon blood. You were coughing up the blood that was forced into you. Like your body was rejecting all the demon left in your body.

You were doing the trials to close the gates of Hell, getting rid of every aspect of it. And for you it made sense that you were coughing up the lingering ties to that place. You coughed a few more times before your lips stretched into a smile. Almost liked you were relieved. It made sense. The damage to your inside. The blood. The trials weren’t hurting you, they were healing you. God was trying to turn you into what you always wanted. A human being.

Rewrite Taglist:

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Message me if you would like to be added!

[cloudbatcave]

I only have scattered notes from my last play session of White, but let’s dive back in regardless.

I defeated Burgh, which was easy because it’s a Bug type gym and the only Bug type trainer who ever posed a sliver of a threat was Guzma, two generations in the future. One of the NPCs called it charming, and I’m sorry, but walls made of semi-permeable yellow goo is not my idea of tasteful décor.

I’m all for a bee/honey aesthetic, but precious seconds slipped away from my life as I had to hold down the walk button to get out of the goo before it snapped back. Every single time while I went around beating up all the NPCS.

Burgh doesn’t even have any bee pokemon, which makes it yet more questionable why this is his setup. His team is Orb Centipede, a hermit crab, and a praying mantis wearing a fashionable leaf dress. If anything his gym should have been more forest-themed, with like, a beach section. 

Then Cheren and Bianca line up to fight me because I guess they wanted some free ass kickings, and I’m only too happy to oblige, and then the game forces me to chat.

“I heard Nimbasa is an entertainment city. It must be full of fun.”

But YOU’RE going there, Bianca.

They both finish by mouthing empty words about trust and growing as my brain further melts out my ears.

See, this shit might actually work if we ever saw them develop, and that’s my real problem, beyond the actual trite dialogue itself. To compare to Gen 7, you actually see Hau do nice things and express concern for people besides himself without mouthing a platitude about it every five seconds. It makes him likable and relatable.

Bianca and Cheren only ever show up if they want to fight you or there’s some sort of Team Plasma problem. You never actually see them as people, just props for the plot. They feel as flat as a pancake run over by a truck, and they didn’t have to be, the writers were just lazy.

But, onward we go, to the not at all greener pasture of the fucking desert.

“You’re a top class trainer...but what do I know?”

On one hand, I have to hand it to this NPC for having better insult game than most everyone else I’ve had the misfortune to share breathing space with, but also, I’m coming for him when he sleeps.

I see the wonder duo again and briefly contemplate hitting my DS with a hammer, but Cheren just gives me some ultra balls and backs away slowly, perhaps sensing my bubbling rage.

“What should we do now?”

Get lost in the sandstorms, Cheren, you know you long to feel their gritty embrace.

I wander out of the desert route into Nimbasa briefly and immediately regret it as some old man gets threatened by Team Plasma in my eyeshot.

“A strong looking trainer, please help me!”

By this point I may as well hang a sign around my neck stating my daily rates of personal protection if it’s just going to keep happening. $50 cold cash up front and then my hourly rate, or get some other child to fight for you.

All I wanted was the Pokemon Center so I didn’t have to keep burning my potions, but Arceus doesn’t love me that much.

At least I get a bike for my troubles! 

Then Bianca and Elesa the gym leader pop up and I’ll be honest, it’s been like two months and I tuned out that dialogue on purpose but what I did write down was to avoid the pokemon musical.

Shouldn’t be a problem. I cannot imagine the plot will ever make me go there. Not possible. Surely I am safe.

Nimbasa has a nice theme. I guess nintendo put their money into the soundtrack and not the writing.

Back in the desert to shake everyone down for exp points and find all the hidden items!

Nothing particularly exciting happens there until I get caught in an unwinnable situation. 

Sand Tomb is an almost completely irrelevant move in pokemon, given its low power and less than great accuracy rate. However, its one absolute humdinger of a side effect is that it renders you unable to flee, or switch out.

Normally, this isn’t a problem, because sand tomb doesn’t inflict that much damage and you can just apply whatever move will squeeze the life from your opponent fastest while you get docked a few paltry HP points.

Unfortunately for me, there are two other factors that make this a real day ruiner: Sandile, the perpetrator of this seemingly bogus move, is dark type as well as ground type. I had the deep misfortune to send my Munna out, who only knows psychic moves.

Anyone who played pokemon past gen 1 knows that that means one thing: Valerian, my Munna, is consigned to a slow and frustrating death due to being totally unable to land any damage on this stupid baby crocodile.

Even though this is a Nuzlocke lite run of sorts, I bring him back to life afterwards because that was such a stupid knockout I’m not counting it. It was pure bad luck, not any failing on my part.

Which of course means that he gets his clock cleaned by a Dwebble in a trainer battle soon after and I do have to count that since it was preventable. So Valerian is permadead after all, rest in pieces. Now I’m down my psychic type and I hate the design of the Gothita line so who knows if I’ll pick up another one.

Next time: desert basement shenanigans with dead people.

[serenlyss]

Don’t Thank Me Yet Chapter 2

Rating: M (guns, casual murder, torture, violence, ptsd, dissociation, blood, injury) Pairing: ritshou Summary: “Alright then. I’m Shou,” he says, introducing himself more properly this time. “I’m an esper, like you, the first in existence to be forcibly awoken by Claw’s crazy torture machines. They kidnap kids with potential latent psychic powers and break them, over and over, until either their powers emerge or they die. It doesn’t matter either way to them.” His expression hardens as he speaks, clear distaste and outright malice evident in his tone. “I could really use your help here, you know. A partner of sorts, someone to watch my back. What do you say?" Ritsu hesitates. He isn’t a fighter by any means, and the psychic powers now churning beneath his skin are still very new and frightening. It’s all very overwhelming, but Ritsu can’t help but feel a sort of sickening hope at Shou’s promise for revenge. It did have a sort of dark draw to it. In which Claw is a lot worse than they seem and Shigeo isn't able to find his brother after he's kidnapped. Crossposted to AO3: Chapter 2

Chapter 1 // Chapter 3

Here's chapter 2! My idea for the time being is to update every Wednesday if I can, but I'm also doing summer term which means not a lot of writing time left over so those updates may get a bit sparser near the end! At the moment I have almost 5 chapters out of 8 at drafted, so hopefully that will help me have some extra time to make sure everything ends up polished!

Thanks to my beta readers @shutupeleven​ and @soapipia​ for helping me edit this chapter! Your help is much appreciated my friends!

Shou pushes the door of the empty house open with his powers, letting it swing open noisily in front of him. He tightens his grip on the arm around his shoulder, feeling the weight of his partner heavy against his side. His other arm is wrapped around Ritsu’s waist, offering as much physical support as he can. “You still with me, dude?” he asks, making his way over to an old couch in the area of the house that’s been designated the med bay.

He can practically feel Ritsu rolling his eyes at his dramatics as Shou helps him sit down on the couch, wincing as his sore body protests every movement. “I’m not gonna die, Shou, I’m just a little banged up,” Ritsu replies, leaning his head back against the top of the couch with a sigh. “You know I’m more durable than that.”

Shou flashes his friend an amused grin, extending a hand toward a shelf at the back of the room. His red-orange aura appears around his hand and stretches out with an invisible thread to encircle a beat-up cardboard box on the middle shelf, levitating it to his side.

Ritsu carefully shucks off his jacket, which is at this point destroyed beyond repair and covered in his own blood, and discards it to the side of the couch. Shou gives him a quick once-over, taking stock of his injuries. Most of them are clean cuts, inflicted by the window he’d crashed through during their unfortunate brawl. “Guess I’m still not so good at putting up barriers under pressure, huh? Even after all the training you put me through, my reflexes are still slow,” Ritsu sighs.

“It comes with years of practice and muscle memory. You’ve only had a few months to develop your powers, give it some more time,” Shou replies, reaching out a hand to turn over Ritsu’s arm and address the cuts there. Ritsu flinches as his fingers press into a particularly bad cut, earning an apologetic glance from his friend. He continues, “Things got a bit out of hand, anyway. There wasn’t supposed to be a fight, but I guess we weren’t so lucky today.” He reaches deftly for a cloth and dabs an antiseptic solution onto it, pressing it against Ritsu’s cuts. “If everything had gone as planned, we would’ve just killed ‘em all and disappeared, but one of their guys was able to see through my invisibility. Can’t tell you how, but it’s something to keep in mind for the future, I guess.”

Ritsu hisses out a pained breath as the cloth comes into contact with his open wounds, clenching his hand into a fist. Shou continues as though he hadn’t moved at all, and he might have been afraid of coming across apathetic if he isn’t aware of how well Ritsu knows him. “God, that stings. I keep thinking I’ll be used to it next time, but that never happens,” Ritsu grunts, gripping the arm of the chair tightly beside him.

Shou huffs out a short laugh. “Yeah, it never really gets any better, even after years of fighting,” he agrees, gently wiping away the blood that had seeped from Ritsu’s cuts and stained his skin bright red. “Look on the bright side, though: Once these are all healed up in a few days, you’ll have some more badass battle scars to show off!” He flashes Ritsu another lopsided grin, trying to lighten the mood.

“Ah, yeah, I guess espers do heal pretty fast, don’t we?” Ritsu murmurs in response as Shou wraps his arm in clean white bandages, though he doesn’t sound nearly as excited about the scars as Shou does. He already has plenty, after all. He opens and closes his hand experimentally. “My brother’s gonna have a fit when he sees them.”

“It’s one of the perks,” says Shou, moving up to Ritsu’s face now. “You went out shoulder-first, though, so luckily the damage was contained to mostly one arm.” He dabs away a trail of blood that had run down his neck and soaked into the collar of his black shirt, leaving a dark stain behind. “How’re your powers treating you? Feel any better about using them?”

Ritsu hums, closing his eyes for a moment as Shou wipes the cloth over a cut on his forehead. He doesn’t answer right away, and Shou doesn't press him to hurry up. “It still takes me way longer than you to do anything,” he says at last, letting his eyes blink open as Shou moves to push Ritsu’s shaggy hair out of his face with one hand, “but I think I’m getting better at controlling them. I’m still nowhere near as strong as that first night, though. It’s taken a lot of work to get to where I am now.”

Shou nods, pleased. Any progress is good progress, in his eyes. “Well, of course you’re not as good as I am, I’ve had these powers for years,” he replies, tone coming off cocky. “Even though Claw forced them on us, they’re still a part of us, and always have been. Not to mention, they’re good reminders to keep us focused on what we’re fighting against.”

“I could never forget, anyway,” Ritsu says back, voice quiet and grim.

Shou smiles at him, sympathetic, and lets his hand linger on Ritsu’s cheek a moment after he’s removed the cloth from his face. Then he pulls a bandaid out of the box and unwraps it, covering a small but persistently bleeding cut on Ritsu’s forehead. “Yeah, me neither. Still, I am grateful to them for bringing me such a strong and dependable ally. I’ve got Ootsuki and the rest, but they don’t know Claw as intimately as we do. Plus, you’re way smarter than they are.”

Ritsu cracks a small smile at this, and Shou takes it as a victory. Ritsu isn’t nearly as comfortable expressing his thoughts and memories as Shou is, so he sometimes finds himself guessing what words will work as a form of comfort in what situation. “Don’t thank me yet, we haven’t finished what we started,” Ritsu reminds him.

Shou pats his knee to show he’s heard, dropping the stained cloth into a trash can beside the couch. “We’ve come a long way these last few months. Especially you. You’ve changed a lot since the night I found you,” he comments, voice edging on fond.

Ritsu hums, glancing down at his bandaged hand with eyes that stare at something far away from where they are now. It’s not unusual for Ritsu to space out like this, but Shou can’t find himself getting used to the way his gaze fogs over and he falls deathly still and quiet, his soft breathing the only thing rooting him to the living world. He can only imagine what kinds of memories he sinks into when he falls into these moods, if he thinks of anything at all. Ritsu’s unwilling to parse the details of his kidnapping and captivity, subsequent torture, or anything else he experienced in Claw’s awakening lab, and Shou doesn’t want to pry too far, as curious as he is to compare his own experiences against another survivor.

He gives Ritsu a few minutes, moving to address the glass cuts on the bottom of his one bare foot. He’d lost his shoe when the Claw esper had thrown him through the window, and the broken glass had been quick to bite into the soft flesh of his sole. Shou suspects his shoe is probably still back in the base, no one left alive inside to take it for themself. Perhaps Ritsu would be able to retrieve it later, when they inevitably went back to blow the place up entirely. It wouldn’t do to leave it vacant and let Claw send more of their scientists to start work back up again, after all. Shou gently covers his injuries in the same white bandages that now litter Ritsu’s body. The dark-haired boy doesn’t flinch, or acknowledge his existence at all. It’s more than an little worrying when Ritsu falls into trances like this. Once he’s finished bandaging Ritsu’s foot, he decides to break the spell. “Ritsu,” he says, soft and careful.

Ritsu blinks when he hears his name called, knocked out of his reverie by Shou’s curious voice. He’s frozen for a moment, and his eyes dart back and forth as he reorients himself in the present moment. “Sorry, I spaced for a bit there,” he murmurs, reaching up with one hand to push his bangs away from his face. He stares down at his lap, dark lashes hiding his half-lidded eyes. “Did you finish?”

Shou raises an eyebrow at him, faintly amused, and hopes it covers the concern he feels underneath. “Yeah, you’re all good. It’s your turn to do me now,” he says, gesturing to his own bedraggled appearance. He’s not nearly as bad off as Ritsu is, but his hands are cut up and there’s a gash on the back of one of his calves. “What were you thinking about?”

Ritsu lets out a breath, pushing himself to his feet and swapping places with Shou. He doesn’t meet Shou’s gaze, eager to do something with his hands. “Just… stuff,” he replies, and it’s a terrible way to cover up the fact that he’d spiraled into a realm of unpleasant memories.

“Mmhmm, sure,” Shou replies, not convinced in the slightest. He hesitates, wanting to confirm his own suspicions but still conscious of the fact that Ritsu has boundaries that Shou doesn’t, and his traumatic memories are one of the things he doesn’t really talk about. He bites his lip, debating back and forth for a moment before he finally decides to just rip the metaphorical bandaid off. “You were thinking about the night I found you, right?” he asks.

Ritsu freezes for a split-second, not long enough to be noticeable unless you’re really paying attention, like Shou is. Busted. Ritsu chuckles dryly, but there’s no humor in it, and he doesn’t smile, just copies Shou’s earlier actions of wetting a clean cloth with the disinfectant liquid so he can return the favor. Shou rolls up the leg of his pants, granting access to the cut underneath, and doesn't say anything else. He knows that if Ritsu doesn’t want to talk about it, he won’t.

“It happens sometimes. My memories of that night are… foggy,” Ritsu says after a moment, his words carefully chosen. “I remember being locked in this weird pod, and I remember you picking me up in the forest, but in between that it’s just kinda… hazy.” He presses the cloth against Shou’s leg, and Shou squirms, grimacing at the sharp sting that shoots up his calf. Ritsu grasps his ankle with one hand, holding him steady. “Don’t move,” he chastises.

Shou grunts, trying to take his mind off the stinging by focusing on Ritsu’s words. “I’m not surprised. You were exhausted to the point where you could barely stay standing. You’d lost a lot of blood, too, from whatever torture they put you through.” He shakes his head, clenching his teeth at the memory. “I still can’t believe they got those machines to work on someone with your kind of power. Before you, I was the only one.” He huffs out a bitter laugh, glancing away. “The great son of the leader of Claw, the first successful attempt at forcibly awakening a person’s latent psychic power. Can’t say if it was worth the cost, though.”

Ritsu frowns at this, Shou notices, as he tightly bandages his injured calf to keep it from bleeding any further. Shou’s not shy about talking about his own experiences in Claw’s awakening labs, and he bears plenty of scars from his time there, whether it's the singed skin on his back and arms or the thin lines that litter his torso and legs. Memories that will never disappear, etched for eternity into his flesh. He shows his scars proudly. They’re evidence of his ability to survive, to overcome. He takes great pride in recounting the stories of how they got there, stories he embellishes with all the flourish and drama he can muster.

Ritsu isn’t like that, though. He hides his insecurities behind carefully-crafted layers, like the psychic barrier he uses to protect himself from corporeal harm. Going through one would only reveal another, and then another, too many for any one person to break through by force. He covers his scars with gloves and long-sleeved jackets, even in the searing summer heat, even though Shou has seen them all and knows most of the stories behind them.

Ritsu swallows, clearly uncomfortable. He never had enjoyed when Shou brought up his father. “I remember being on the ground when my powers came to me,” he says, and Shou tries to hide his surprise. He’s avoided speaking about anything regarding the awakening lab in the past, unsure if he was ready to face what happened. Perhaps it was just an easier topic than trying to parse Shou’s family trauma. “They’d been torturing me nonstop for two days, trying to get me to break, to force my psychic powers to awaken and protect me. It worked.” He pauses, swallowing thickly. “Shou… back when you found me, the night I broke out of that place, you killed two scientists.”

Shou’s breathing stutters in his chest. He remembers it well, the way he’d shot them to death to keep them away from Ritsu. “Yeah, I did,” he replies, uncertain why Ritsu would bring it up now, a month later.

“You’ve killed a lot of people,” Ritsu continues, eyes still diligently focused on the task at hand.

Shou tenses up. Where is he going with this? “Yeah, I have.”

Ritsu just nods, falling quiet for a moment, as though this isn’t a revelation to him. Shou supposes it probably isn’t. Ritsu isn’t stupid, after all, and he’s see the way Shou handles a gun. Not to mention all the Claw bases they’d demolished in their short partnership.

“I think,” Ritsu begins, wiping away the blood that clings to Shou’s calf and ankle, “that I also killed a lot of people, when I lost control of my power.” He speaks slowly, choosing his words with care. “I don’t remember the details, but I know that some of the people in that lab tried to stop me. It was like I wasn’t even in control of my own body, but I still remember doing it, faintly.” Then, quietly, he adds, “I didn’t want to kill them.”

Shou hums as he listens to Ritsu speak. “You were only protecting yourself,” he says with a frown. “Besides, they deserved what was coming to them. It’s their own fault for getting involved with Claw to begin with.”

“How can you say that so easily?” Ritsu asks, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth. “Sure, they were members of Claw, and the stuff they did was terrible. I’m not saying it wasn’t, but they… they were still people, in the end.”

Shou’s frown deepens. “So what?” he snaps, harsher and angrier than he intends. His shoulders lift subconsciously, and he feels suddenly defensive. “They hurt us, Ritsu, really badly. That kind of damage can’t be healed by time or therapy or counseling. It’ll never go away, not ever.” He crosses his arms, drawing into himself when he would normally sit with open posture. “They broke us in a way that can’t be fixed, so I think it’s justified if we break them back. Compared to what they did to us, killing them is mercy.” He scoffs, looking away. “Anyway, it’s not like it matters anymore. They’re already dead, so there’s nothing left to talk about.”

Ritsu doesn’t answer, lips turning down in a disapproving frown. Shou notices belatedly that his hands are shaking. The sight of it sends a little shock of regret down his spine: he hadn’t meant to get defensive. In the four months they’ve stayed together, they haven’t butted heads very often, and the times they did were usually over things so small and trivial that they really didn’t matter in the end.

“Like I said, you were protecting yourself,” Shou mumbles, attempting to backpedal. “That must have been why you were so tired when you finally made it up the hill. Once everything was said and done you could hardly keep yourself standing. Adrenaline, probably.” He feels silly, like he’s rambling, but he’s desperate to change the subject now. “I basically had to carry you to the car, and you fell right asleep as soon as I told you to. Higashio hit a pothole halfway back, but you didn’t even react. You did end up leaning on my shoulder, though, somehow,” Shou says as Ritsu’s finishing up cleaning a cut on the side of his neck. “You slept the whole way back. I was pretty impressed. I had to levitate you all the way to the bed, ‘cause you wouldn’t wake up.”

Ritsu flushes pink as Shou speaks, setting aside the rag and grabbing a long band-aid from the box. His hands stop shaking.

Shou’s surprised to see Ritsu blush, and he can’t help the grin that comes to his face as the sour mood seems to lift a little. “Oh? Are you embarrassed? What’s wrong, Ritsu, you lean on me all the time now!” he teases, grateful for the chance to talk about something less heavy. Teasing is easy, even if the implications of their earlier conversation still hang thick in the air.

“Oh, shut up,” Ritsu retorts, but Shou’s teasing only makes his blush darken. It brings Shou a giddy kind of satisfaction to see Ritsu loosen up a little like this. Ritsu continues, “I don’t remember ever getting in the car. Guess my mind was too overloaded.”

“Trauma can do that to a person,” Shou agrees casually, leaning back on the couch as Ritsu finishes his work. “There’s a ton of stuff I blocked out of my memory growing up.”

Ritsu sighs, sitting up and taking a seat on the couch next to Shou. “That’s not a good thing,” he points out, fixing his dark gray gaze on Shou with a frown. “How do you even know that if you don’t remember what you’ve forgotten?”

“Well, it’s like you said. I remember what happened before and after, but my memory just kinda leaps forward in time. There’s an empty space that I know is there because it doesn’t make sense otherwise, but no matter how hard I try I can’t seem to figure out the missing pieces,” Shou explains with a wave of his hand. “They’re not important memories, though. I can live without them.”

Ritsu just stares at him with that same look, wordlessly telling him that his experience isn’t normal or desirable, as though he doesn’t already know.

Shou gulps, glancing away. Ritsu always has been pretty good at seeing right through him. “You know what they say, ignorance is bliss,” he says, though his words are lacking his usual confidence all of a sudden. Clearing his throat, he shifts in his seat, restless. “Er, was there anything else you wanted me to tell you? I don’t mind, you can ask me whatever you like.”

Ritsu shakes his head. “Ah, that’s okay, thanks. I remember everything that happened afterward,” he replies, but it’s clear to Shou that there’s something there, sitting on the tip of his tongue, barely held back by Ritsu’s unwillingness to step out of his comfort zone.

It’s been four months since they’d first partnered up, and Shou has grown somewhat accustomed to the little habits Ritsu uses to subtly express his emotions, like the way he avoids eye contact when he’s feeling vulnerable, or how he’ll fidget when he’s nervous or contemplative. Right now, he’s doing the former, eyes looking anywhere but at Shou as he piles the first aid equipment back into the box in preparation to store it again.

Shou stands and snaps the box up with his hands before Ritsu can, folding it shut and crossing the few steps over to the shelf at the other end of the room. “If you have something else to ask, you should just ask it,” he says. He doesn’t look back at Ritsu, if only because he knows his friend is less likely to ask if he feels like he’s being stared at.

Ritsu chuckles softly at this, leaning back in his seat. “I’m never going to be able to sneak one past you, am I?” he says.

Shou just shrugs, sliding the box into its place on the middle shelf. “I guess you could say I’ve gotten pretty good at reading you,” he replies, though it’s only somewhat true. Much of Ritsu’s mannerisms and habits are still a mystery to him, especially the ones that stem from his experiences with Claw. “So, what’s on your mind? You know you can talk to me, right?”

“I know,” Ritsu says without hesitation, and it puts some of Shou’s doubts to rest. He takes an audible breath, then asks, “When am I going to be able to see my brother? It’s been four months. He probably thinks I’m still missing, if he doesn’t think I’m dead. I want him to know that I’m safe.”

Shou pauses, his hands hovering on the box’s cut-out handles. For a long, silent moment, he just stands there, hands held in front of him. Then, he turns and walks over to where Ritsu is sitting, crouching in front of him and offering him a rehearsed smile. It’s meant to be reassuring, but Shou’s never been very good at that. “You’ll be able to see him soon, I promise,” he says.

Ritsu must pick up on his false persona, because his eyes narrow, and his lips turn down in a frown. Shou knows immediately that he’s fucked up. Ritsu’s glare is dark and biting, sending a shiver down his spine. Shou forgets sometimes how terrifying Ritsu can be, until that anger is turned on him instead of an enemy.

Ritsu stands up hastily, hands bunching into fists at his sides. “Don’t make me a promise you don’t intend to keep,” he snaps, tone harsh and angry.

Shou flinches, already regretful.

Ritsu pushes his way past him and disappears around a corner, and Shou hears the door of his room close behind him with finality.

Shou lets out a soft groan, leaning his forehead on the couch cushion in defeat. He hadn’t meant it like that. He really does have plans to let Ritsu talk to Shigeo, just… not yet. It’s still dangerous, there’s still a chance that Claw could realize their mistake in mixing them up and go after Shigeo instead, and he really doesn’t want Ritsu’s interference to be the reason Shigeo ends up in the same situation the two of them are in now. He knows that being away from his brother is the thing that Ritsu finds the most undesirable about their arrangement, but he just can’t think of a way for the two of them to meet without jeopardizing one or both of them in the process. Ritsu is too important to their mission, too important to him, to risk him falling into Claw’s grip again.

You’re so selfish, he berates himself, clenching his hands into fists. Ritsu isn’t your pawn, you can’t control him.

Shou has never been one to stifle or repress his own feelings and emotions, and because of this, he can’t deny that he cares for Ritsu in a very personal way. It extends beyond the bounds of their self-determined mission, morphing into a feeling that’s a bit deeper and more potent than he’s willing to delve into with the way things are. He frowns. These are dangerous feelings, distracting and unappreciated. If he lets them run wild without putting a cap on them, he’ll end up doing something he regrets. He can’t afford to let such things interfere with the goal he’s worked toward for more than three years now, so he recognizes them, acknowledges them, buries them. There’s no place for such wants here.

I should apologize, he thinks, pushing himself to his feet slowly. He owes Ritsu an explanation, needs to repair what he’s broken with his careless words. He hopes that Ritsu’s cooled off enough to let him.

He walks to the door in silence, footsteps light, treading on his toes before his heels so his steps don’t echo. It’s a habit he’s picked up from years of sneaking around enemy bases and sabotaging them from the inside. He pauses just outside, listening, but there’s no noise on the other side of the door. He reaches out tentatively, gives the door a little knock with the back of his hand. If Ritsu doesn’t want him there, he won’t answer, and Shou will leave as though he’d never knocked at all.

Luckily for him, Ritsu isn’t so angry that he’s forcing Shou away. “What do you want?” comes his muffled voice, his words ice-cold. It’s an invitation. A harsh one, sure, but it’s better than being outright ignored.

“Can I come in?” Shou asks.

“You can do what you want,” Ritsu replies dismissively. His words are biting, lined with sharp thorns, but Shou can read the quiet consent within them.

Shou lets out a breath he hasn’t realized he’s been holding, cracking the door open and stepping inside. Ritsu’s laying on the dingy bed on his side, facing the wall, and he refuses to look up as Shou enters. Shou can see the angry pout on his lip from across the room, and he might have found it cute if he hadn’t been its target.

He hesitates in the doorway, then moves to the far wall and grabs the folding chair set up in the corner, dragging it over by the bed. He leaves a respectable distance between them as he sits down, clasping his hands in front of him. “I’m sorry,” he says, never one to beat around the bush. “You will see your brother again, I just don’t know if it’s safe yet.”

“You never do,” Ritsu sighs in reply, and it’ll be a lie if Shou says it doesn’t sting. Ritsu shifts onto his back, looking up at the ceiling. His shaggy black bangs flop to the side, showing his forehead. “I know you’re just trying to protect me, but I’m getting restless. My brother’s out there, somewhere, wondering where I am, and I can’t even get a message to him to let him know that I’m even alive. I’m frustrated, and frankly, I’m running out of patience. We’ve been at this for months, and that’s just in the time I’ve been here. You’ve been fighting for over three years, but it feels like nothing’s changed.”

Ritsu’s expressing his feelings, a rare occurrence, but Shou can’t bring himself to appreciate the effort. His heart drops, a ball of worry and anxiety forming deep in his stomach. “Things have changed, though. The number of Claw bases is going down all the time. My father is on his last nerve, I can feel it-”

“How much longer is this going to take, Shou?” Ritsu demands, sitting up and meeting Shou’s gaze for the first time. “Another month? Six months? A year? I don’t… I don’t know if I can go that long without contacting Shigeo, at least.” He crosses his legs on the bed, gaze turning to stare down at his lap, angry, persistent.

Shou’s mouth goes dry, and he feels a rare stab of guilt in his chest. “I don’t know,” he admits, voice soft, and he lets it reflect his feelings of vulnerability and insecurity, if only for a moment. “I feel like it won’t be much longer, but I can’t tell you for sure. I don’t know how much more it’ll take.” He rests his elbows on his knees and lets his face fall into his hands. He swallows, his words heavy on his tongue. “If you’re having second thoughts, it’s okay. I’m not gonna make you stick around, after all. You can go back home whenever you want. I just don’t want you to get hurt,” he admits after a moment of contemplation.

As soon as the words are out of his mouth, he feels a wave of dread come over him. He doesn’t want Ritsu to leave. He wants him to stay his partner, wants them to trust each other. He wants Ritsu to be there when he finally shoves it in his dad’s face that he was wrong all along about world domination, but he can’t make him go along with it if he doesn’t want to.

Ritsu turns to him with wide eyes, momentarily shocked into silence, then his expression softens some and he says, “I’m not gonna leave, Shou.”

Shou looks up, catching Ritsu’s gray-eyed gaze for a moment before his friend looks away again. Ritsu fiddles with the edge of his sleeve, agitated. “I just… really miss my brother. I don’t want him to worry about me the way I worry about him.” He runs his fingers over the scars on one hand, marks and lines that Shou knows intimately, because he’d tended them when they were fresh. Ritsu runs his fingers over them, and says, “You’re my best friend, Shou, my partner, and I’m not going to abandon you. My brother is going to need me, but you need me, too. I’ll just have to come up with a safe way to contact him without alerting Claw, that’s all.”

Shou can’t help but let out a laugh, breathy and relieved, and the tension he’s been feeling melts away a little. “Yeah, alright. If anyone can figure it out, you can,” he says. It comes across a bit fonder than he intends, but there’s nothing he can do about it once it’s left his mouth. “Thanks for sticking by me, Ritsu. I know I’m not a very good friend, and I kinda suck at relationships in general, but it really means a lot that you have my back,” he adds, genuinely happy that Ritsu won’t be going away after all.

Shou catches the beginning of a blush on Ritsu’s cheeks as he glances away, hiding his face from Shou in a familiar way. “Don’t thank me yet,” he reminds him with a little smile. Shou knows he’s been forgiven.

Ritsu opens his mouth to say something else, but before he can, there’s a knock on the door. “Come in,” he says instead, turning toward the door.

Higashio opens the door, stepping into the threshold. “We’ve located a Claw base about thirty miles outside Seasoning City,” he says, all business. “We’ve confirmed its location after following an unmarked vehicle there. We’re ready to strike at any time, leader.”

Shou and Ritsu exchange a knowing look. There’s really no debating it. Shou turns back to Higashio and grins, feeling a familiar anticipation building up in him. He stands up, and Ritsu follows at his side.

“Let’s not waste time, then.”

[bluberripi]

imagine haikyuu characters in the pokemon universe for a sec

like holy shit this thought just came to me

YOUR RIVAL Game rivals would be Hinata/Kageyama, doing the whole dual rivalry like what happened with Cheren and Bianca in B/W. Sometimes, one might act like a psuedo-rival and give the main player stuff (ie. Hinata: “Hey, [f/n]! Uh, I wanted to thank you for helpin’ me out there... so... here! Have this!” [Obtained a max revive]” or alt. Kageyama: “Are you an idiot?! Going into the forest with your Pokemon in that shape will only have you heading to the Pokecenter! Here, I’ll heal them up.”)

both are super proud of each other’s progress low-key and they both high-key really wanna beat ushijima.

THE PROFESSOR Coach Ukai, because there’s always been something between the mom of the game and the professor i know it he inherited the title after his old man, the genius professor, retired.

Professor Assistants Shimizu Kiyoko and Yachi Hitoka. Shimizu’s about to go out and become a proper trainer, so she gets Yachi to fill in her spot while she’s gone.

THE EIGHT GYM LEADERS (in order!)

Tanaka - the fighting type gym leader. wANTS TO SHOW YOU ALL HOW TO RESPECT A REAL GYM LEADER, DAMMIT. when you’re beat he’s just like “wow not bad i didn’t expect that from you but pssht don’t get cocky” (also knows you’re good and have potential and thinks you may become champion). PERSONALLY LEADS YOU TO THE NEXT CITY, all just so he can see noya-san, the returning gym leader.

Nishinoya - the FIRE TYPE GYM LEADER BECAUSE LOOK RYUU!! FIRE!!! HAHAHAHAH. these two definitely make the strongest start to a video game. like, ever. very loud, and energetic. 

Tsukishima - the poison-type gym leader, actually? i dunno i just can't see him trying too hard, so he’s only the third. still, he has lots of potential (that half of the elite 4, kuroo and bokuto respectively, recognize--which leads to constant pestering from their part), and despite only being the third gym leader, if unprepared, his poison affects are devastating to newcomers. 

Asahi - the game’s lovely high-strung steel type, with nerves that DO NOT MATCH. gets super nervous before a match, and although he does very well and is very strong and gets more motivated as the match goes on (and holy crap if this guy had a legendary pokemon it’d be regigigas or something because of the slow start ability RESONATING from this guy). visited often by nishinoya, who often complains about asahi’s nervous demeanor. also want one point where they have to fight the enemy team of the game and they buddy up and defeat them because hey who doesn’t want a sprinkle of asanoya in their life

Iwaizumi - the rock type gym leader. sorry, it didn’t even take me long to decide on this. His last name literally comes with the word rock in the first character pls. Combined with his steadfast personality, it works perfectly. When you beat him he just asks for you to kick shittykawa’s ass. Even tells you his pokemon type and starts telling you his pokemon and their dreadful moves until he’s cut off by some random plot device.

Akaashi - i honestly can’t help but say he’d be the ghost-type gym leader. he doesn’t put his gym in a freaking cemetery or have ghosts wander around, but he’s actually rather nice about it all and takes pity on the ghosts because seriously have you read some of their pokedex entries yeesh. his signature pokemon would be a drifblim, because of the dual flying/ghost nature. it’s his favourite, and it’s bokuto’s favourite, too. loved by many, and goes out of his way to help out even the most dramatic pokemon. maybe you’d meet him if there were a rogue ghost in the city, causing damage, and akaashi walks up and helps it calm down (almost the same way he does with bokuto)

Sugawara - i really wanted to make sugawara the nurse, but in the end i feel like he’d be a really strong grass-type gym leader. the healing thing still came to me though, so i’d see it as a strong type with annoying healing abilities. right when you’re about to defeat his pokemon, he hits you up with ingrain or synthesis and saves by a sliver, making the battle that much harder. another thought was that at the end of the game he’s actually offered to become an elite 4 but so is kageyama. he’s been a gym leader for a long time, but steps down so kageyama can have it.

Kenma - surprisingly, (or maybe unsurprisingly) the psychic-type gym leader. as the final gym leader before the elite 4, he’s really strong and definitely has a good grasp on all the types of moves there are (stats, inflicting damage, reducing, as well as extra effects) and even accounts for the type weaknesses. often hangs out with kuroo and grows to be friends with your rival hinata. although kuroo never lets him explicitly state that he’s the dark type elite 4, it’s implied. refuses to become an elite 4 personally, because it’s already too much effort being a gym leader. 

THE ELITE FOUR

Daichi - the grounded leader is now the ground-type elite 4! has really strong and nice pokemon. hangs with suga. i don’t know why, but i’d imagine that they garden, since he’s the ground-type elite 4 and suga’s the grass-type gym leader. at the very least, his area has flowers growing somewhere in homage to their friendship. idea was that he steps down from being an elite 4 to go focus on other things and become stronger, allowing suga to become one. read suga’s section for more.

Kuroo - dark-type elite four! debated on fire vs dark for a loooong time, but couldn’t help but see dark as the strongest feature. plus they’re badass, so kuroo would def brag about that to bokuto. First seen talking to Kenma at his gym, saying that he should hurry up and become an Elite 4 member already, since he already knows he’s qualified enough.

Oikawa - water-type elite 4. probably the most well-rounded elite 4 in terms of stats, with pokemon that can heal and attack strong and defend well and everything. wants to become champion (beat ushiwaka), but realizes he has to get stronger before doing that. really playful. his identity is not kept secret at ALL the entire game, as he has his own radio channel about him with water pokemon (looking cute while using cute pokemon to gain fans) and iwaizumi namedrops him earlier on during his battle. (lowkey inspired by ao3 superpower haikyuu fanfic, “baby, i can give you wings” by Metis_Ink, which is wonderful and can be read here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2185851)

Bokuto - THE FLYING-TYPE ELITE 4. I don’t know why but i can’t imagine him taking the battle completely seriously and just doing some dumbass strategy that proves to be super broken. Something like Drayden from BW2, with some stupid dialogue like “AAARGH JUST WAIT FOR THE FINAL ATTACK!!! IT’LL BE AWESOME!” while doing 2-3 stat-raising moves or charging moves and then one broken ability that does a shit ton of damage. Kinda like the papyrus we never got in undertale. Alternately, a one-hit K.O. move. Gets super depressed when defeated, and can be seen after at a cafe with Akaashi, complaining.

THE CHAMPION This would undoubtedly be the prodigy we all know and love, Ushijima Wakatoshi. Trained since a kid, and worked really hard. A good champion, and definitely worthy of the title. 

OTHER APPEARANCES Takeda-sensei - the ‘mom’ of the game. Not an actual Pokemon trainer, but wishes the best for the main character when they go off, making sure they’re well-prepared and researching enough to send them off with a smile. (also dropping by with occasional “hey, hope you’re doing okay!”s) while you’re on your journey.

Lev - while you’re with kenma’s gym (with a visiting kuroo), there’s a little unskippable side-quest where Lev begs kenma to teach him how to catch pokemon, much to kenma’s annoyance. kuroo eventually defeats all his pokemon (doing something like beating a level 6 pidgey with a level 60 hydreigon, or trolling him by pulling out a lvl 60 zoroark that’s disguised as a small grass-type), but teaches lev good lessons in the process. is also trying to be taught by Yaku, an actual experienced ace trainer who just can’t help but be annoyed at Lev. 

Yamaguchi - some guy at the beginning of the game who shows you how to use pokemon and stuff. he’s either a normal-type trainer or a fairy-type trainer, or at least has an affinity with those two.

[raguna-blade]

Tsareena Recovery

As a trainer Selene had a rudimentary understanding of first aid. Certainly more than someone who opted against gallivanting across the world at eleven. Debatably more than most adults did, given that she was the champion of Alola.

Fact of the matter was, for a trainer, especially those who travel, you need to know a lot about your pokemon. You need to know a lot about each and every one, and the differences between the types. It was the reason that a lot of trainers specialized in truth. When you had one or two types that you had to look after, certain attributes tended to appear over and over again, so your sphere of knowledge didn’t have to extend so wide.

For example, grass types tend to not have blood as most other pokemon did. They had something that acted like blood yes, but the fluid that flowed through their veins was akin to sap than blood strictly speaking. The difference may be minor, but a lot of pokemon could actually eat or drink this sap as something viably nutritious, and unlike with more blooded pokemon the act of losing sap was something that was relatively harmless. A Significant loss of it would not cause a grass pokemon to pass out, although it may cause other issues. Of course, it also depended on what kind of plant the grass pokemon was, with fungoid’s being something else altogether.

Ghost types, to continue on, didn’t really “exist” in the same way that others did. The jury is out on what they are exactly, but the real body of ghost types essentially do not exist in this world, and causing real actual injury to them essentially requires other pokemon to strike with more feeling than mere might.

Fighting types universally are less flesh and blood and more steel that happens to resemble and act like flesh and blood. As opposed to steel types which range anywhere from inexplicably mobile lumps of iron to merely thick metallic shells.

Dragon types, one of the more infamous, are particularly well known not for their strength but more their scales. Dragon type scales are infamously dense, with very little being capable of actually piercing through them, save for other dragon types, the extreme shock brought on by the chill, or the strangely antithetical and phantasmic effects of fairies.

All this to say, when a trainer had an extremely varied team, that is a team possessing four or more varying types, caring for them became extremely complicated, and one simply had to know a wide range of things on how to treat them in the event of injury, something that happened constantly with competitive pokemon.

It goes without saying that no pokemon wanted to really hurt another in this context, the same with their trainers. They knew enough how to hold back, to curtail the strength of their flame or the power of their strike. Even with their hardy bodies, boulder melting flame was still boulder melting flame after all.

But accidents happen. And when you were traveling the wild pokemon did not hold back in the least, even those that were attempting to attract your attention as a trainer. Especially them in fact.

So Selene knew a lot about a variety of pokemon, and how to treat them. She had, due to the make up of her team, a solid understanding of grass, ghost, fairy, psychic, dragon, fighting, water, poison and bug types.

A reasonably wide range.

And furthermore, as a trainer who had reached into the higher echelons of skill she was granted access to the more potent and reactive potion types, as well as knowledge of when and how to use them, along with other potent restorative medicines.

Simple potions were best suited to simple scrapes and bruises, while the far stronger max potions were best geared towards actual open wounds or breaks. Full Restores were for more or less traumatic and wide spread damage. The assorted status heals ranged were pungent concoctions to shock a pokemon awake, a simple one charge electric shock to reassert nerve control, the very carefully broken down remnants of the universal skill toxic, a small flame thrower and burn ointment.

Ethers were exceptionally rare stimulants, and legal, but carefully controlled.

This said nothing of revives, and the emergency revives all trainers are required to have.

In short, Selene knew a decent bit of first aid. It was a simple necessity, and requirement as she went through on her journey.

That did not mean she knew how to deal with severe injuries however.

Injuries that could put a pokemon out of commission battle wise, or outright kill them. When it came to that, the field level skills she had learned in the centers and in the field simply didn’t do enough.

It wasn’t enough.

She had to do better than this.

She gripped the hand of her Tsareena Elizabeth, and listened to the soft beeping of the monitor. The fight against Black Leg had been tense, and the damage had been severe.

The nurses had told her outright that even if she survived, there was an extremely good chance that she would never be able to fight again, given the damage inflicted and the side effects of the emergency revive given the damage incurred.

She underestimated them. She didn’t think about the fact that they would probably be together. Why wouldn’t they be? They were in another world entirely, and Selene knew from Nihilego that the ultrabeasts were panicked.

She could have….she should have done better. Or else the others could!

“May I come in?” Anabel said from the doorway, knocking as she walked into the room. She was exhausted, Selene noted absently, and barely managed to cover it up when she all but fell into her chair.

Elegantly, but still.

“I have heard that you faced a great deal of trouble in attempting to capture UB-02. I apologize for not being better able to help you.” She said.

Selene shook her head.

“I’m the champion. I should have been able to-“

“You’re 12,” she said cooly, “And despite your skill and status this really shouldn’t have fallen to you.”

“But…”

“Nothing. You have prodigious skill, and I’m certain in the coming years you’ll do better. But this is not your fault. If anything it’s mine, for forcing this on you.”

Selene turned and glared. Anabel matched her gaze.

“We shouldn’t have asked you, but the fact of the matter is we had little choice. And for that, and the harm inflicted on your partner, I am sorry. But you should not, nor will I let you hold yourself accountable for this mess, not when you’re so young.” She said, standing slowly, “But even as I say that, I will be calling on you again when the time comes. So for now, just wait with your partner. Pokemon are plenty strong, and as silly as it may seem, your connection will do her good. Don’t give up on her alright?”

She bowed before exiting the room, any sense of wear gone from her.

Selene stared after her for a moment before grasping Elizabeths hand.

Even if Anabel was right…She would try harder. She didn’t want this to happen on her watch again.

She gripped tightly, and for a moment as the machine beeped softly, she thought it gripped back.

Written by Raguna-Blade