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thatsadbietch · 1 year ago

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The Legend of the Glowering White Grimmsnarl

Crow's Tickletober Days 3 (full moon), 9 (payback for a scare), 18 (camping), AND 28 (woods/forest)

Warning: Tickle fic! And mild cursing.

After a long day of adventuring, you and Arven settle in for the night. Rather than the comfort of your dorm room, however, he takes you camping and shares some interesting folklore.

————-

“There! All set!” Arven stated proudly, having finished pitching the tent, your and his sleeping quarters for the evening.

“You know, we probably could have made it back to the dorms before dark,” you mentioned, “so we wouldn’t have had to camp out here all night.”

“Even so,” Arven replied, crossing his arms, as if he were disappointed in you saying such a thing, “now we can cook over an open flame, which will always make food taste better!”

“Did it have to be in Tagtree Thicket though? At dusk?” You looked around the forest and noted how dark it was getting already, the trees no help as their leaves and branches shielded much of the sunlight from the ground below them.

“Aw, you scared, little buddy?” Arven cooed, half-teasing, half-concerned, messing your hair. You never asked him to fill this big brother type role, he just kind of inserted himself there: always making sure your team was healed after Titan battles, feeding Miradon, looking out for you in general while never losing sight of his own mission.

“N-no!” You swatted his hand away, “I just know the Mimikyu and Impidimps come out more at night.” Arven released Mabosstiff, as he usually does when you two took time to rest.

“We’ve fought nearly all the Titan pokemon, we’ll be fine! And besides, it’s your first time camping out here, yeah? I plan on giving you the full experience!” You rolled your eyes, kneeling down to build and start a proper campfire… giving up shortly after rubbing sticks together and seeing no sparks. You ended up releasing your Armarouge and asking it to help light the fire.

“Thanks, Armarouge. Since you’re out already, do you want to enjoy the full experience of camping with us?” you asked, with air quotes. The pokemon nodded curtly and sat close to you. It was familiar with Arven from fighting alongside his team in Titan battles and enjoyed his and Mabosstiff’s company. Arven chuckled at your sass.

“Just wait. Now that there’s finally a fire going, I can start cooking!” You noted Arven pulling out his supplies, though it didn’t look like he was preparing sandwiches this time. You watched him retrieve a small pot and rice from his bag, along with several other ingredients and spices. He was too zoned-in on his craft to notice your confusion, so you merely watched him work. He didn’t use measuring utensils, but was still meticulous about which ingredients and how much he used, his concentration not faltering once.

“I wonder if his face will freeze like that,” you commented out loud, mostly to yourself, but your Armarouge heard and seemed to be amused.

“Aaaand, done!” Arven announced, presenting to you and Armarouge with a bowl of curry before sitting down across from you with his own and Mabosstiff’s serving.

“Not your usual, Arven,” you pointed out, blowing on a spoonful to cool it off.

“Yeah, I went outside the box for your first camping trip. You’re welcome, little buddy.” Arven mused, clearly proud of himself. “Curry is super popular in the Galar region. If they can do it, so can I.” And he did it well, as he usually did with all things cooking. You’d never tasted a meal of his that you didn’t enjoy.

“You REALLY outdid yourself this time, Arven. I might not be able to go back to sandwiches after this,” you teased, and Armarouge murmured in agreement.

“Don’t get too used to it, some of these ingredients are from Galar, and they weren’t cheap. But you’ve helped us out a lot so… I’m happy to.” Your teasing smirk turned to a genuine smile, looking at your friend and his companion pokemon. While Mabossiff was still in no shape to battle, he was leaps and bounds better than when you first met him.

Arven looked up toward the sky and grinned. “How fitting, the moon is full. You know what that means, don’t you?” You and Armarouge set your empty bowls down and looked at Arven quizzically.

“I guess not. Well, I promised the full experience, and no camping trip would be complete without telling you the Legend of the Glowering White Grimmsnarl.”

You couldn’t help yourself: you burst in cackles. “Thahat sounds ridiculous!”

“I’m serious!”

“Okhahay, okay, please enlighten us,” you settled, nudging your Armarouge that was making breathy sounds that could be interpreted as chuckles.

“With pleasure,” he began, his stoic demeanor on the subject only weakening your ability to keep a straight face.

“The legend tells of a Morgrem, shunned by its fellow Morgrem and Impidimps for having white hair instead of black. Its white hair was so bright, even at night, that it was always seen by both predator and prey, making hunting difficult and risking the safety of its herd. One day, it was chased out of its herd, forced to wander Tagtree Thicket all on its own.”

Your chortles and looks of amusement faded, letting yourself be immersed in the story. Armarouge placed a protective hand on your shoulder and scanned the forest around you.

“The Morgrem fended for itself pretty well, considering the odds against it. That is, until one night, there was a huge, bright, full moon, a lot like this one, actually.” You looked up, and even through the trees you could tell the moon was at its full glory, and seemed huge in the sky.

“The moonlight was so brilliant that night, that the Morgrem’s hair appeared to radiate with it. But it had no more food in its shelter, and had to go looking for more. That’s when a gang of Spidops ambushed it.” You felt yourself scoot closer to your Armarouge.

“It was no match for the horde of Spidops, not by itself. And just when it thought it couldn’t take anymore, a huge glow enveloped the entire thicket. The neighboring town’s residents at the time swore it was as bright as daylight in the middle of the night. Turns out, it was the Morgrem, evolving into the biggest, strongest, and nastiest snow-white Grimmsnarl ever known. Not only did it fight off the Spidops, it found its old herd and drove them completely out of the thicket in a terrifying rage, along with any other pokemon that got in its way. So from then on, the Grimmsnarl’s white hair was no longer a give-away, but a warning to the pokemon and trainers that wander in the forest. Especially when the moon is full, since it's said that’s where it draws its unfathomable strength. And, if somehow you miss its brilliant white hair in the moonlight, there is no mistaking its guttural, earth-shattering cry…”

“GRRROOOOAAAAARRR!”

You latched onto Armarouge and elicited a frightened, piercing scream, while Armarouge, holding you steady with one arm, readied the other one to defend against what it thought was going to be a gigantic white Grimmsnarl. However, after a beat you heard Arven breaking into hysterics, and opened your eyes to see not a gigantic white Grimmsnarl, but a Toedscruel. More specifically, Arven’s Toedscruel, walking back to his trainer, making a deep chuckling sound along the way.

“ARVEN! YOU SCARED THE HELL OUT OF US!” He almost didn’t hear your scolding over his own laughter.

“Ithihihit was sohohoho gohohohod! Youho should hahave seen your fahahace!” You huffed, feeling your face flush.

“Aww, come ohohon, little buddy,” he said, starting to calm down, returning Toedscruel to its pokeball, “Scary stories are camping staples! And the moon is full, I couldn’t waste a perfect opportunity!” You sighed as your heart rate returned to a normal pace.

“Okay, okay, you had your fun, I’ll take your apology now,” you spat, still in a pout. Arven, seeing this, chuckled again.

“I’m not apologizing, it was a story! That’s what you do when you go camping!” You glared at him, knowing he meant no harm, and was just having a laugh at your expense. Well, if it's a laugh he wanted…

“Don’t make me make you apologize, Arven!”

“Oooh, I’m soooo scared,” Arven mocked, “What are you gonna do, call the white Grimmsnarl on me?”

“I don’t need the white Grimmsnarl,” you stated, “I have Armarouge.” You looked past Arven, who was confused for a moment before your ever-loyal pokemon grabbed his arms and pinned them behind him. Arven jumped, obviously never noticing Armarouge creep over, and tried to stand and break its grip, but Armarouge wasn’t one of your strongest team members for nothing.

You stood and strode over menacingly, fingers taking the form of claws. Arven seemed to get it now, and struggled a bit more spastically.

“N-now little buddy, let’s not be hasty, it was all in fun, wasn’t it?”

“Oh, it certainly was, we liked your story for sure, right Armarouge?”

“Ar, mar,” it replied, tightening its grip on Arven. You reached Arven and placed your “claws” on Arven’s already shaking belly, an involuntary smile starting to form across his features.

“But if it was a laugh you wanted, you could have just asked.”

“Th-that’s nohohot what I said- hehehehe, nohohoho lihihittle buddy!” He giggled, as you wasted no time gently scribbling and skittering your fingers along the young chef’s midsection, a yelp escaping after you slipped a hand under his shirt to reach his bare belly.

“Wahahahait, nohohoho!” Arven gasped, still trying to free himself from Armarouge’s grip. You looked up to your companion pokemon, and could tell it was just as amused as you were.

“Should a cook’s stomach be so sensitive?” You teased, watching your friend’s reactions, and still futile attempts to keep his composure. “You’d think a cook would need a hardened stomach, since you eat all kinds of different food.” At that, you skittered in and around Arven’s belly button, to which his laughter positively boomed and kicked his legs out, almost kicking you.

“LIHIHIHITTLE BUDDEEEHEHEHE! NOHOHOHOT THEHEHEHEHERE!” He thrashed, but Armarouge held firm, even when Arven’s head was thrown back against its chest in ticklish agony.

“Not where, heeeere?” You dragged, wiggling a finger in his belly button while your other hand still scurried up and down his sides.

“NAHAHAHAHA, DOHOHOHON’T! BWAHAHAHA!” If there were smaller, curious pokemon close by, Arven’s boisterous laughter probably scared them off.

“Shhh! Arven! The Glowering White Grimmsnarl will hear you!” You continued to torment, backing off of his weakest point to instead test another spot against your ticklish grip, suddenly squeezing the tops of his knees. His booming laugher calmed to a bubbly cackle, which was honestly quite adorable.

Now that you thought about it, you had only just recently begun to see Arven smile, due to the hopefulness he had for his companion. Oh, Mabosstiff! You turned and realized he was watching the whole interaction, tail wagging in approval. Arven followed your gaze to his dear friend.

“Mahahahabosstiff! Dohohoho somethihihing!” And, at his trainer’s command, he did get up to do something. That something being nuzzling his snout in Arven’s ribs.

“NOHOHOT WHAT I MEANT! MAHAHAHABOSSTIFF, NOHOHO!”

“I think he likes seeing your smile! You don’t do it enough, you know,” you “scolded,” and Mabosstiff offered a “rrrruff” in Arven’s underarm as if to agree. This only deepened the blush on Arven’s face as his giggling somehow got more bubbly and boy-like, almost making you forget that he was actually your upperclassman.

“TRAHAHAHAITOR! BOHOHOTH OF YOU!” he sputtered, not trying too hard to escape Armarouge’s grip anymore, whether out of giving in or exhaustion, Armarouge couldn’t tell.

“Aaar, ma,” it said, in a tone you recognized as one of concern. You waved at Mabosstiff, getting his attention and ceasing his attack on his master’s ribs and underarms. Arven caught his breath as Armarouge continued to hold him for support.

“Are you good, Arven? I’ll take this over an apology any day,” you jested, Arven chuckling now of his own accord.

“You got me pretty good, little buddy, I’ll give you that. I’m okay, now, Armarouge. You can let go. I would thank you, except you’re also to blame.” Armarouge made that same breathy sound from earlier, recognized as a laugh, and walked back in your direction. Arven hunched over and rested one of his elbows on his knees, catching his breath. He had the other hand on Mabosstiff, patting the top of his head. He stood after a moment and looked at you, chuckling again and shaking his head.

“I’m going to bed. A monster worse than the white Grimmsnarl got to me. You’ll get yours, little buddy, you’ll see.”

“Sure, sure, whatever you say. I think I like this camping thing, but I’ll turn in, too. Maybe you can tell another story?”

“NO!”

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