#hoenn league

[mariopokemonuniverse]

Just a thought, what if Tate and Liza are actually identical twins and one of them is transgender?🏳️‍⚧️

As shown in their leaked concept art, their shared appearance is so similar that they look as if they could be identical. But just as identical twins don't have the same fingerprint, they don't necessarily have the same personality, sexual orientation, or gender identity. Exactly which one of these twin Gym Leaders could have transitioned is unknown, so it is up to anyone' imagination.

Please note, any phobes commenting on this or reblogging it for anti purposes will be reported and blocked.

[sinnohelitefourlore]

How it Started:

How it's Going:

[queenarahbo]

Holiday Spirit Part 5

Part 1/Part 2/Part 3/Part 4

Whumptober Prompts used: Day 25: Surgery Day 30 - Hospital Bed

Steven drifted in and out of light sleep for the next three hours, the shadows of his restless fevered dreams intertwining with the stark reality of his sickness. Each time he stirred, he felt the oppressive weight of his discomfort pressing down harder. Cynthia bustled in and out of the dimly lit room, her soft footsteps a gentle reminder of her presence as she checked on him frequently. She had gone to gather his belongings from his room, and it was clear she was trying to bring him some comfort amidst the chaos of his illness.

He had managed to swallow a couple of Tylenol, but the relief he sought was elusive, as the pain in his abdomen remained relentless. Every attempt to sip water was met with dismay, as nausea quickly followed, leaving him feeling more miserable than before. The heat radiating from his forehead signaled a deepening fever that had escalated during his sleep. No matter how hard he tried to deny it, the truth was unavoidable: he was ill, ensnared in a battle against his own body.

He shifted onto his back, releasing a heavy sigh that seemed to carry the weight of his fatigue. Despite having succumbed to slumber, an inescapable weariness clung to him like a dense fog. Sleep, now elusive and mocking, danced just out of reach. From the slightly ajar door, the cheerful sound of laughter floated in a bright contrast to his restless state. The lively voices outside painted a picture of joy and fun, making it painfully clear that a warm gathering was in full swing, while he lay there, disconnected from the merriment.

He slowly pushed himself upright, the weight of fatigue clinging to him like a heavy blanket as he swung his legs over the side of the bed. The cool touch of the floor beneath his feet contrasted sharply with the warmth of the blankets he had just abandoned. Perhaps if he moved around, he could shake off the fog enveloping his mind and feel better, or maybe he could drift back into a peaceful sleep. Either outcome felt equally appealing at that moment.

Earlier, Cynthia had come to his side, her brow furrowed with concern as she scolded him. When she had brought him his medicine, her voice was firm but laced with compassion, warning him against pushing himself too hard and emphasizing the importance of asking for help when he needed it. "You should join the others if you're feeling up to it," she had suggested, a note of encouragement in her tone, yet underneath it was the unmistakable weight of her maternal instinct. With a teasing threat, she had added that she wouldn’t hesitate to take him to the clinic if he didn’t show signs of recovery soon, her eyes sparkling with both seriousness and care.

He realized he had to muster the strength to be okay. Gritting his teeth, he steadied himself, trying to will the world to stop its dizzying whirl. Unfortunately, he found no relief; if anything, his condition felt even more dire. The sensation in his stomach tightened, a swirling knot that mirrored his disorientation. Tentatively, he leaned down, his fingers brushing against the cool, smooth floor, in search of his socks. He had been grateful when Cynthia brought his clothes earlier so he had something more comfortable to sleep in, but the hot flashes and cold chills made it next to impossible to settle on something to sleep in. He focused on the smooth wood beneath his fingers, seeking some anchor in the chaos around him.

After slipping on the soft, cozy socks, he struggled to gather his strength and pushed himself up to his feet. Steeling his resolve, he cautiously made his way toward the common area. He paused at the entrance, peeking around the corner to assess the lively scene unfolding within before stepping silently into the room.

In the warm glow of the kitchen, Siebold was busy at work, his focus intense as he mixed ingredients, the delicious aroma of baking wafting through the air. Steven couldn't quite discern what culinary creation was in the making, but it seemed to be piquing the curiosity of Phoebe and Aaron, who stood by with wide eyes, playfully pestering him for a taste of whatever was in the oven.

The rest of the group occupied the space in a tapestry of leisurely activity. Lucian, Bertha, and Glacia were huddled over their books, absorbed in the worlds within the pages, while Flint, Sidney, and Wikstrom were settled comfortably on the floor, laughter bubbling from them as they watched an action-packed movie unfold on the screen, the dramatic scenes drawing them in.

In another corner, Diantha was stifling giggles as she leaned closer to Cynthia, who wore a slight blush on her cheeks while glancing at the phone displaying whatever had captivated them so deeply. The room buzzed with energy, but the absence of Drake, Drasna, and Malva left a notable gap in the lively atmosphere.

A wave of curiosity surged through him as he observed Cynthia’s expression transform—from a hint of mild embarrassment to a deeper, flustered shyness that was a rare sight for him. What intriguing secret could Diantha be revealing to her? Shoving that thought aside for the moment, he cautiously emerged from his hiding place. The cozy ambiance of the kitchen buzzed with chatter, and the flickering glow of the movie cast warm shadows on the walls, but he remained unnoticed amidst the relaxed gathering until Diantha’s voice cut through the air, drawing attention back to her.

“Steven!” Diantha exclaimed, her eyes sparkling with relief as she spotted him. A warm smile spread across her face, illuminating the room. She shifted over on the plush couch, pulling her legs to the side to create a welcoming space. Cynthia, catching Diantha's inviting gesture, quickly moved beside her, eager to make room for their friend. The atmosphere was filled with a sense of comfort, as the two of them settled together again.

Cynthia leaned forward, her brow furrowed with concern, the soft lines of her delicate face revealing the anxiety that gripped her. “How are you feeling?” she asked, her voice trembling slightly with worry as her eyes searched for reassurance. She brought her hand up to his forehead, a frown deepening at the heat.

“I’m fine.” Steven rasped, his voice barely rising above a whisper as he leaned heavily against the cold, unforgiving wall. The air in the room felt thick with tension, and all eyes instinctively turned toward him, scrutinizing his every move. Most appeared to accept his words, nodding slightly as if to reassure themselves. However, he couldn’t shake the feeling that Cynthia was different; the subtle flicker of doubt in her eyes told me she didn’t buy his facade.

"Come sit down," Cynthia said with a warm smile, gently patting the soft, plush cushion beside her. The fabric seemed to beckon, its inviting surface promising comfort and warmth as she gestured for him to join her.

Steven nodded slowly, attempting to tune out the playful banter emanating from the kitchen, where the sounds of laughter mingled with the occasional clatter of dishes. Flint's snickers, sharp and teasing, pierced through the noise, further grating on his already frayed nerves. He blinked rapidly, trying to clear away the lingering spots that danced in his vision as if mocking his discomfort. Gritting his teeth, he pushed himself away from the wall, but the world around him began to tilt and swirl, amplifying the rolling nausea churning in his stomach. Each sway of the room made his head spin more, a disorienting reminder of his fragile state. He only managed a few steps before everything around him went black.

As he lay there, the world slowly came into focus above him, the ceiling swirling like a kaleidoscope of colors. Each hue bled into the next, creating a disorienting tapestry that mirrored the chaos in his mind. Gradually, the murmur of voices around him began to coalesce into recognizable sounds, tethering him back to reality.

Cynthia knelt beside him, her expression a mix of concern and relief, while Siebold and Lucian hovered on his other side, their faces etched with worry. The shifting hues began to solidify, revealing the stark outlines of their figures against the backdrop of a blurred, chaotic world. He felt a flicker of connection in their presence amidst the confusion.

Lucian and Siebold moved with precision as they carefully assisted Steven into a sitting position, ensuring he felt secure despite his discomfort. Cynthia stood close by, her hand poised in anticipation, ready to offer support at a moment's notice. "Take your time," Lucian instructed softly, his voice a calming presence amid the tension. He reached out, his fingers brushing against the back of Steven’s neck, feeling the heat radiating from his skin. "You're really burning up," he noted, concern etched across his face as he assessed Steven's condition.

“Let’s get him to the couch,” Diantha said, her voice steady and reassuring as she stepped aside, creating a clear path. Her eyes held a gentle determination as she gestured towards the soft, inviting couch.

They allowed Steven to guide their pace, moving deliberately and cautiously. The rhythm was slow, with Siebold bearing the brunt of Steven's weight, ensuring he didn't succumb to another sudden loss of consciousness. Steven's attempts to maneuver were awkward and uncoordinated, his limbs seeming to betray him as he struggled against the pull of fatigue. Gently, they eased him down onto the plush couch, the cushions sinking beneath him, providing a momentary reprieve from the effort of maintaining balance.

"I'm pulling rank," Cynthia said firmly, her voice steady but compassionate. She stepped closer to Lucian, who was still lingering hesitantly in place, his expression a mix of reluctance and worry. "You need to go to the clinic," she continued, her brow furrowing with concern. "Do you think you can manage to walk?"

She positioned herself beside him, a solid pillar of support. "We'll move at your pace," she reassured him, her tone softening as she tried to alleviate some of the tension in the air.

“Let him rest for a few minutes,” Diantha said softly as she appeared beside Cynthia, cradling a tall glass of cool water. The sunlight caught the glass, making it glimmer in her outstretched hand. “Here,” she gently offered it to Steven, her eyes filled with concern. “Sip on this slowly.” As she glanced around the room, the anxious faces of their friends filled her vision; it was clear they all wanted to help but were unsure how to do so without disrupting the moment. The quiet hum of their shared worry hung in the air, creating a cocoon of support around Steven.

"This really isn't necessary," Steven protested, his brow furrowed in disapproval as Diantha firmly thrust the glass into his hands. The cool, smooth surface of the glass felt foreign against his skin, and with a determined shake of his head, he set it down on the table with a gentle thud, his eyes darting between Diantha's insistence and the untouched drink’s inviting shimmer. He dropped his head into his hands with an added “I just got a little dizzy.”

“A little dizzy?” Glacia asked incredulously, her eyebrows raised in disbelief. “Steven, you actually passed out!” She leaned closer, concern etched across her face as she studied his pale features, the color draining from his cheeks.

Cynthia let out a deep sigh, the sound weighted with anxiety, as her fingers trembled while they glided through her tousled hair. "We need to get to the clinic," she said, her voice filled with urgency.

"I told you, I’m fine," Steven protested weakly, his voice barely above a whisper. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes, struggling to steady himself. "I’m just...going to go back to bed." With a weary shuffle, he turned away, the weight of exhaustion heavy on his shoulders as he moved toward his dimly lit bedroom, longing for the comfort of the warm blankets that awaited him.

“Then do it for me,” Cynthia said, her voice laced with impatience. She rolled her eyes, a gesture of exasperation, as she reached out and firmly grasped his wrist. A rush of heat spread through her as she noticed the curious glances and whispers swirling around them; the stares were almost tangible. It became clear to her why Steven was so reluctant. He was desperate to maintain his facade of strength, unwilling to let anyone see the vulnerability lurking beneath the surface in front of their peers.

She received no verbal reply from Steven, only a brief nod that barely lifted his down-turned gaze. His eyes revealed the turmoil within, teetering on the edge of frustration and resentment at the proposition laid before them. It was as if each moment spent standing required all the strength he could muster, his posture betraying fatigue beyond mere physical weariness. The quiet of the early morning only accentuated their isolation, the unusually empty halls wrapping around them like a comforting shroud.

As the pair stepped into the clinic, a rush of frigid air enveloped them, making the space feel even more sterile and unwelcoming. Steven shivered uncontrollably, his body trembling in a futile struggle against the icy atmosphere that gnawed at his skin. He could feel the heat of his fever battling with the cold, creating an unsettling sensation. With a soft sigh, he sank into a chair that creaked under his weight, his gaze fixed on Cynthia. She moved purposefully towards the nurses' station, her figure a stark contrast against the stark white walls, as she began to discuss something with the nurse perched at the cluttered desk, their voices a soft murmur in the chilling air.

He felt an unexpected wave of gratitude wash over him at the sight of the nearly empty clinic. The sterile white walls echoed with a faint murmur of conversation drifting from one of the rooms at the back—two women chatting animatedly and a man interjecting now and then. Just as he began to settle into the quiet atmosphere, a nurse beckoned him with a brief wave of her hand. Reluctantly, he rose from his seat, his earlier sense of comfort fleeting. As he followed her down the corridor, he pushed aside the creeping self-consciousness that tightened in his chest. Once in the room, he chose a chair and sank into its cool embrace, fixing his gaze on the scuffed vinyl floor. Next to him, Cynthia took a seat, her presence somehow grounding amidst the sterile surroundings.

"So, what brings you to the clinic so early this morning?" the young doctor inquired, his voice steady and warm, while he studied Steven with a mix of curiosity and concern. His bright eyes reflected the soft glow of the lights overhead, and the faint hum of the waiting room added a backdrop to the otherwise tranquil atmosphere.

Steven squirmed in his chair, casting a furtive glance at Cynthia, who offered him an encouraging nod, silently urging him to go on. He felt the weight of nervousness pressing down on him, his throat tightening as he prepared to voice all his concerns. It seemed foolish to him; after spending over a year cultivating a sense of comfort with his physician back in Hoenn, he now found himself laid bare before a stranger.

The doctor sat across from him, her demeanor calm and composed, which only heightened his unease. Every few moments, she would nod subtly, her pen gliding over the notepad as she took diligent notes. The room was quiet, the soft rustle of paper the only sound, and this silence only served to magnify the turmoil swirling inside him. Perhaps it was just the early hour, but the sense of vulnerability was almost overwhelming.

Given the intensity of the pain you're feeling," she said, her voice steady as she meticulously arranged the sterile supplies on the counter so that she could draw blood, "I believe you made the right decision in coming here. While it could very well be just a stomach virus, I’d like to run a few tests just to ensure we don’t overlook anything important.

Steven observed quietly as the young doctor effortlessly inserted the needle into his arm. Before he knew it, she had already collected three vials of blood.

“We will start with this," the young doctor declared confidently, her fingers delicately gripping the vials of blood that shimmered under the fluorescent lights. The crimson liquid swirled gently within the glass, capturing the room's attention. She paused for a moment, eyes focused and determined, before continuing, "And we will go from there. I'm going to go ahead and order a CT as well. I will be back in a little bit once I have the results from your blood work. Feel free to lie down if you want.”

"Thank you," Cynthia said softly as the doctor stepped out of the room. She lingered for a moment, her gaze fixed on the closed door, as if willing to reopen and bring back the reassurance she desperately needed. Turning back, she found Steven slumped over in the hospital bed, his vitality dimmed and his spirit seemingly drained. A deep frown creased her brow as her heart ached at the sight of him—so vulnerable and frail. The vibrant, strong man she loved felt like a distant memory, and all she wanted was to see him regain his strength and spirit.

"I’m sorry, you don’t have to stay," Steven whispered hoarsely, his voice barely rising above the sound of his labored breathing. With great effort, he managed to pry one eye open, the light spilling in too bright for his fevered mind. Cynthia stood by his bedside, her silhouette sharp against the waning daylight, but he couldn’t bear the thought of imposing on her. He didn’t want to be a burden. Weakness coursed through him, each shiver a reminder of his fragile state as he wrestled with a sense of guilt for needing her presence.

"I'm staying," Cynthia replied firmly, her voice unwavering as she stood tall, determination gleaming in her eyes. The words hung in the air, charged with resolve, as she refused to back down from her decision. "You need me here. I already promised to keep the others updated so they won't worry. Lucian said he would come check on you later if you are up for it. Why don't you try to rest."

“I don’t want them spending their Christmas in a hospital,” Steven sighed, his voice heavy with emotion as he felt a wave of frustration wash over him. The stark white walls and the distant sounds of muffled beeping filled the air, a constant reminder of the situation they faced. “It’s not fair to them,” he murmured, his heart aching at the thought of his friends missing out on the joy of the season.

Before Cynthia had a chance to respond, a nurse entered the room, her presence brisk and efficient. She deftly slipped a blood pressure cuff around Steven's arm, the fabric snug against his skin, and attached a pulse oximeter to his finger, the small device blinking softly as it began to monitor his vitals. Steven's heart raced a little as he braced himself for the next part, the moment he dreaded the most.

With practiced hands, the nurse carefully unwrapped the bandage that had secured his arm after the blood draw, the antiseptic smell of alcohol filling the air as she swabbed the area with a cotton ball, ensuring it was clean. Steven's gaze was fixed on the needle as she prepared it, the sharp glint sending a shudder of apprehension through him. He could feel the cool touch of the saline IV setup as she inserted the needle, a slight sting breaking through the initial fear.

Before she activated the flow of saline, she paused, her smile warm and reassuring. "I am giving you something for the nausea as well," she said, swiftly injecting a small vial into the line before expertly sealing it up. Within moments, she was gone, leaving behind a lingering sense of anticipation and unease in the room.

An inexplicable sensation invaded Steven’s mind, a chilling wave that washed over him like a winter frost. It was as if he were submerged in something profoundly sterile, the sharp scent of antiseptic overwhelming his nostrils and wrapping around his thoughts. It overwhelmed his senses. The frigid liquid coursed through his veins, each tendril of icy mist coiling tightly, sending shivers throughout his body, awakening every nerve.

"They are concerned about you. However, they plan to go out once they are certain that you are not in any danger.” Cynthia comforted her partner as she settled on the edge of the bed, carefully avoiding the numerous wires connected to Steven. The constant beeping of the monitor provided her with a much-needed sense of relief. Steven was alive.

“I know I’m not in any danger,” Steven said, his voice steady despite the discomfort swirling in his stomach. “It’s likely just a persistent stomach bug or something.” He attempted a small smile, one that didn't quite reach his eyes, hoping to provide Cynthia with a sense of comfort. “They’ll give me something to help settle my stomach and let me catch up on some much-needed rest so I can sleep it off.”

Cynthia stifled a yawn, her eyelids heavy with fatigue. “Let’s wait and see what the tests show,” she said softly, concern etched on her face. “In the meantime, do your best to get some rest.”

Steven nodded slightly, the weight of exhaustion pulling at his eyelids as he closed them softly. A gentle wave of relief washed over him as the medication coursed through his system, soothing the relentless pain and dulling the nagging nausea that had plagued him. It was in this moment of calm that he comprehended the depth of his fatigue, a weariness that sank deeper than he had imagined. Before long, the soft lullaby of tranquility enveloped him, and he found himself drifting off once more, surrendering to the comforting embrace of sleep.

The sudden creak of the door pierced through the murky haze of Steven's restless slumber, jolting him awake. The sterile scent of antiseptic hung in the air, mingling with the dim light that filtered in. A figure emerged in the doorway, and their voice, calm yet authoritative, cut through the silence. "Well, the blood work came back, and your white blood cell count is elevated. This indicates an infection. I’d like to get that CT scan done right away,” she stated firmly, her voice steady but laced with urgency. The doctor, absorbed in her notes, didn’t lift her gaze from the paper; her pen moved methodically across the page as if the words held her full attention.

"Infection? What could be the cause of that?" Cynthia asked, her brow furrowing with concern as she contemplated the various potential causes, and leaned forward in her chair.

Steven could distinctly see the flicker of fear in Cynthia's eyes, a haunting reflection of her inner turmoil that made his heartache. He longed to alleviate her distress, to smooth away the shadows that flickered in her gaze. Beneath her brave facade, fatigue hung heavily on her, evident in the deep, contrasting rings that lined her eyes like dark clouds overshadowing a bright day. Her shoulders drooped under an invisible weight, betraying the exhaustion she tried so hard to conceal, making her appear fragile and weary at that moment.

"Based on the symptoms he's exhibiting and the elevated blood count observed in his tests, I suspect that he may be suffering from an infection in his appendix. However, we won't be able to confirm this diagnosis until we perform a scan to get a clearer picture of his condition. It's essential to get that done as soon as possible to guide our next steps. Someone from radiology will be here shortly to take you for that. Try to rest in the meantime time." She glanced between the two before disappearing from the room again.

The two sat in heavy silence after the doctor had stepped out of the room, the weight of unspoken words hanging palpably in the air between them. Each one wrestled with their thoughts, fully aware that nothing could ease the tension or discomfort they felt at that moment. After a short while, a young man entered, pushing a gleaming metal wheelchair ahead of him. He wore navy blue scrubs that clung to his frame with a black long-sleeve undershirt, and his name badge read "Allen."

With a warm but professional demeanor, he introduced himself as the radiology technician, his voice cutting through the stillness. He explained the procedures he would be performing, detailing the steps he would take once they moved into the dimly lit radiology lab. His words flowed with assurance, meant to ease any apprehensions. As he spoke, his eyes flicked toward the glass window behind which another figure stood, silent and watchful, yet completely disengaged from the conversation taking place in the room. The atmosphere was charged with a mix of anxiety and anticipation, but Allen’s calm presence offered a brief respite amidst the uncertainty.

The scans were completed in a matter of minutes, and Steven returned to the dimly lit room where Cynthia was waiting anxiously. A wave of gratitude washed over him as a nurse draped a warm blanket over his shivering body, its comforting weight offering a brief peace from the chills that had taken over him like a relentless winter storm. He closed his eyes, hoping to drift back into the comforting embrace of sleep, but the attempt was futile. Restlessness coursed through him, and he shifted uncomfortably in the stiff hospital bed, the sheets a stark contrast to the warmth he craved. After what felt like an eternity of tossing and turning, the door creaked open, and the doctor entered, her expression serious yet compassionate.

“Congratulations, Champion Stone. You’ve secured a rather unexpected prize—a ticket to the operating room. Unfortunately, it seems your appendix has developed a severe infection, and it will need to be surgically removed. We will begin the preparations this evening to ensure everything is ready, and you’ll be the first patient scheduled for surgery bright and early in the morning.”

“Wait,” Cynthia exclaimed, her voice rising slightly as she pushed herself off the edge of the chair. She moved with purpose, closing the gap between herself and the bed in just a few swift strides. “If it’s really that bad, why not just do it now?”

"His condition is stable at the moment, but we are committed to reducing any potential risks associated with the surgery. If necessary, we will bring him in earlier than planned." With that reassurance, she quietly slipped out of the room again, leaving a sense of uncertainty lingering in the air.

"I—" Steven paused, clearing the tightness in his throat that constricted his words. He took a deep breath, his voice quivering slightly as he continued, "I'm…sorry." The sincerity in his tone seemed to hang in the air, heavy with regret.

"You have nothing to apologize for," Cynthia murmured softly, her voice steady and reassuring. She gently carded her fingers through Steven's tangled silver hair, feeling the roughness of the strands beneath her touch. The weight of worry hung in the air, and she could sense his inner turmoil. Deep down, she knew he would be grappling with guilt, convinced that he was to blame for what had happened. As she looked into his weary eyes, she silently vowed that together they would find a way to figure this out.

“I’ve ruined your plans for Christmas though," Steven said, leaning back against the bed with a weary sigh, the weight of his words hanging in the air. His shoulders slumped, and a flicker of regret crossed his face as he stared at the ceiling, lost in thought.

"You didn't. I had been looking forward to spending Christmas with you," Cynthia responded with a calm demeanor, her voice steady despite the weight of her words. She paused for a moment, her gaze steady as she considered the situation. "Would you like me to send someone over to get what you need or would you prefer that I go and pick up whatever you need myself?

“I don’t want to burden anyone,” Steven said, his voice casual as he waved his hand dismissively, a slight furrow of concern forming on his brow.

Cynthia rose from her seat, the softness of her pants flowing around her as she stood. With a curious tilt of her head and a spark of eagerness in her eyes, she inquired, "I will go then. What would you like me to bring back for you?"

"No, it's perfectly fine. I assure you." Steven propped himself up on his elbow, his brow furrowing in mild frustration as he gently objected. The soft light cast shadows across his face, highlighting the sincerity in his eyes.

"Ah-ah. I'm doing this. What do you want?" Cynthia’s lips quirked upwards as she tapped Steven’s lips with her finger playfully.

After a moment of contemplation, Steven sighed and said,”My phone and laptop? Probably the chargers for both?” His brow furrowed as he considered what else might be important to take.

"Done." Cynthia beamed, a sense of accomplishment lighting up her face. As she stepped into the softly lit hall, she gently closed the door behind her with a quiet click. The air felt charged with anticipation, as she suddenly realized she hadn’t expected eight people to be waiting for her.

[katlimeart]

Made in 2016

If you’ve seen this anywhere else, I posted it back on my deviantArt when it was made.

Mario girls cosplaying as Hoenn League characters from Pokemon

1 + 2. Flannery

3 + 4. Liza

5 + 6. Roxanne

7 + 8. Winona

[alloftimeandspacetosee]

Battle; Steven

This is a Jay into her third league and being slightly bitter, leaning a little further into the ignore-everything-for-the-sake-of-battling tactic that she does so well and is super healthy for her.

She gets a li'l bit edgy. Playing into how she thinks she's ruining stuff for everyone, you know how it goes

Anyway, the song for this one is Evil and a Heathen by Franz Ferdinand

~

I stop before the last door. Steven is beyond it, but I can’t go in yet. The challenger before me is still battling. That gives me time to think. Mostly about what tune to have played during the battle.

 Vulp yawns at my feet, sitting down. Taking a short rest. Brith shifts behind me and I tilt my head to catch a glimpse of her.

 “Do you have a tune in mind?” she asks, catching my gaze.

 “A few.” I shrug. “None really…” I trail off, beginning to smirk. “I’ll be right back.”

 “Blue, where–?” she starts as I dart away.

 I find what I’m looking for fairly easily. The bathroom. Slipping inside, I jam the door shut with my bag and survey my reflection in the floor to ceiling mirrors. Time for a costume change.

 Working quickly, I pull off my trenchcoat, boots and gloves. Half sleeves on my shirt… not short enough. Neither were the trousers.

 So I strip, working quickly to get into frayed shorts that stopped just under my knees and a top that has only straps for sleeves. There. I grin at my reflection, liking the look. Maybe should do something with my hair… nah. Never had been good with messing with it.

 I shoved my other clothes into my bag, tying the boots across the straps. Far too damn hot around here for my usual wear, anyway. But of course – a cloak for cover at the moment.

 Now we were good to go. I pick up my bag, sling it over my shoulder – rearrange the cloak so it covers over my bag – and flip the hood up before leaving the bathroom, so my features are hidden.

 “You are the next challenger, I assume?” The attendant is standing by Brith, tapping his clipboard.

 “Aye, that’d be me,” I say pleasantly. “Sorry about the hold up.”

 “The previous battle is not long finished,” Brith says quietly.

 “Do you have a chosen tune?” He seems to be ignoring Brith… maybe not used to talking pokémon.

 “Evil and a Heathen,” I reply. “Franz Ferdinand.”

 Brith looks confused at that, but keeps quiet.

 He notes it down. “Please, go right on in.” He turns on his heel and leaves us.

 “Nice choice,” Brith murmurs. “Prophetic at all?”

 I grin under my hood and push the door open. “Let’s find out, shall we?”

 We enter behind the challenger’s stand, as always. No one can see us yet, and the stands are still filled with chatter. Probably talking about the last battle. We’d give them something new to talk about.

 Up the stairs, Brith and Vulp close behind me. Sesser cheeps from Brith’s shoulder, almost cheering me on. As we reach the top of the stairs and the platform, I slip my bag from my shoulder and place it at the edge. Pokéballs are in easy reach, so that’s fine.

 “Champion Steven!” I call. I can just see him – the hood’s getting in the way.

 The chattering dies as people start to notice me.

 “You are?” He looks over. Perhaps trying to see beneath the hood.

 “BlueJay NightGale, of Snowpoint.” I shift a hand to the ties of the cloak.

 “Challenging, I assume?”

 “Aye. Why else would I be here?”

 The music starts up.

 I grin. “Champion Steven!” Might as well do it properly. “I challenge you to a battle!” I flick the ties of the cloak, flinging it to one side as I release my first pokémon onto the pitch between us.

 He smirks, raising an eyebrow. “Challenge accepted.”

 As his skarmory screeches through the air, Arc steadies herself on the ground below and throws her head back, fire blasting from her mouth.

 “Spikes!”

 The skarmory dodges with a flick of its wings and dives, dropping small metallic objects in a ring around Arc.

“Fire fang!”

Words fall from my mouth 

Arc leaps and catches the skarmory by a leg, slamming it into the ground. It screams as fire engulfs them both, and I grin.

Like plates from shaking hands 

 “Steel wing!” Steven calls.

 Arc yelps and the skarmory limps out of the smoke.

Smash upon the silence

“Flamethrower!”

 Fire follows it as the smoke clears from around them, and the skarmory isn’t quick enough to dodge – Steven recalls it in a flash of red light, releasing a claydol.

Of the smooth naked canal

 “Ancient power!”

 Well I’m evil and a heathen!

 I recall Arc, releasing Yena. He cries out as the rocks slam around him, forcing him to dodge and stab his paw on the spikes.

 I’m evil and a heathen

 “Dark pulse!”

I'm a heathen and evil like you 

 “Light screen!”

 Yena darts across the pitch as the claydol builds its shield, and leaps up to deliver a blast of dark energy to its head.

There's not a lot

 It stumbles forward, tottering.

 “Earthquake!”

 Yena delivers another blow as he twists on its back, biting at its neck before tumbling away.

Not a lot I couldn't do 

 Brith and I grab onto the railing as the building shakes.

 “Crunch!”

 Yena rolls over as the claydol moves as if to slam into him and leaps up to fasten his teeth in its arm, flicking his tail up into its eyes.

 Steven returns it with a nod, letting out an aggron. “Earthquake!”

 I can’t return Yena fast enough and he collapses, comatose before this massive pokémon. Steven’s grinning. I grit my teeth.

I like how you pretend 

 “Brith?”

That the end will be the end 

 “With pleasure.” She grips the bar in front of us in one hand and swings herself over.

So fill your thirst

 “Earth–”

Drink a curse

 Brith moves faster than Steven can speak, blurring punches like bullets into the aggron’s hide, into its belly where the armour is thinner, weaker.

To the death of death instead 

 It staggers backwards.

 “Dragon claw!”

I'm evil and a heathen

 The aggron swipes for Brith and she leaps backwards, its claws ringing against the spike in her chest.

I'm evil and a heathen 

 I don’t even need to call moves for Brith – I haven’t had to call moves for any of them in a long time, really – so I just watch, smirking, as she leaps to kick the aggron in the head.

I'm a heathen and evil like you 

 It falls with a crash, and Steven returns it.

There's not a lot

 He nods to me, sending out a cradily.

Not a lot I wouldn't do 

 “Brith, step back!”

 She nods, running off the pitch as I let out Glace.

 “Ancient Power!”

 The cradily gathers up the remnants of shattered rocks around it.

 “Ice Shard!”

 Glace attempts to attack, but spends more time dodging the rocks and getting closer to the cradily.

 “Sludge Bomb!”

Utrecht led me to the Sacre Coeur

 The cradily gathers up toxic sludge, weaving from side to side as it waits for Glace to get in range.

Where the smoke curled round

 “Ice fang!”

 The cradily lunges, spilling the poison as they clash together. Glace cries out and I grip the railing.

 “Blizzard!”

Now the ice blows off Lake Acuity

 Ice whips up around them and she darts back several places, limping.

When the ice blows

 “Confuse Ray!”

Glace shakes her head and retaliates with knife like pieces of ice, and the cradily recoils, its movements slowing.

The ice flows knocks you down

 Steven returns the cradily and Glace limps back some more. Could she do it… He let out an armaldo.

 “Ancientpower!”

Bug Rock type. I return Glace as the rocks slam into the ground around where she’d been.

 “Brith!”

 She runs back onto the pitch.

Your teeth are black with wine 

 “Water pulse!”

So… he wants to keep her at a distance.

 The armaldo rears up, gathering water from the ground and jetting it at Brith. She moves like a whip and it crashes into the stand, and I stumble over my footing.

As you place those lips on mine 

 “Bone rush!” There aren’t really any bones around – well, I hope there aren’t – but Brith will make do.

And she does, heaving rocks from the pitch to throw at the armaldo, slowly getting closer and closer.

 “Aerial ace!”

The armaldo lunges for her, and now Brith is too near to dodge so she doesn’t but she holds an arm up to take the blow as she punches her other fist into the armaldo’s chest.

And the moon hangs heavy and forbidden high

 He releases a metagross. Psychic steel type. Doom – I fumble the pokéballs, dropping the one in my hand.

 Ray appears on the pitch as Brith looks back up at me.

 “Earthquake!”

On the night of our lives

 I hit the platform on my knees as electricity sings through the air and the metagross roars.

 “Psychic!”

 Ray yowls in return and there’s more electricity crackling in the air.

 “Blue,” Brith hisses, paws under my shoulders as she lifts me back up. “Come on.”

I'm evil and a heathen 

 “Meteor smash!”

 I shake my head.

I'm evil and a heathen 

 “Blue!”

 Concentrate on the present. Ray.

 “Thunder!”

 I'm a heathen and evil like you 

 I look up to see the metagross bearing down on Ray, one leg raised higher.

 Ray roars in defiance and the room explodes into light. I shut my eyes, hand covering them with that as well.

There's not a lot

 The light dies down, slowly.

 I lower my hand.

Not a lot we couldn't do

 Ray is standing with the metagross at his feet, out cold.

[stealerofthe2ndbraincell]

Any in9/tlog/psychoville characters with the same kind of vibe as this creepy little thing?

I'm doing a hardcore nuzlocke of Emerald rn and I just caught them and I have zero name ideas, so I thought asking it like that might help the brain fog lol

[rosiespokemontwitterau]

Hoenn League Shenanigans 😁 (feat. Mourning Strangers).

[perenlop]

i need to hype up morrison more........ most underrated ash rival (and ash ship. dont @ me)

he's even a gligar guy, that's grounds enough to become this guy's hypeman

[gastlyarts]

i need to make, like, a modern AU of pokemon conquest haaha

[tiny-cloud-of-flowers]

Part of me was considering redesigning Adriana (my Pokémon Reborn self-insert)’s outfit fairly recently, but I wasn’t really sure where I wanted to go with the redesign. Then today’s Pokémon Presents happened, and - since Adri is supposed to have started her journey in Kalos - suffice it to say I was very excited, and also inspired to change it once again! But, I’m still at a bit of a crossroads about whether or not I actually want to go through with doing it since I don’t have any super concrete ideas, so.. maybe we shall see?

[flowering-darkness]

Now all I have in my head is the route 111 theme from RSE/ORAS, oops

[amessageonthewind]

Chapters: 28/? Fandom: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon (Main Video Game Series), Pocket Monsters: Omega Ruby & Alpha Sapphire | Pokemon Omega Ruby & Alpha Sapphire Versions, Pocket Monsters: Ruby & Sapphire & Emerald | Pokemon Ruby Sapphire Emerald Versions Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Cynthia (Pokemon) & Original Female Character, Higana | Zinnia/Original Female Character(s), Mikuri | Wallace/Tsuwabuki Daigo | Steven Stone, Tsuwabuki Daigo | Steven Stone & Original Female Character(s), Haruka | May & Original Female Character(s), Yuuki | Brendan & Original Female Character(s), Mitsuru | Wally & Original Female Character(s) Characters: Haruka | May, Yuuki | Brendan, Original Female Character(s), Original Pokemon Trainer(s), Shirona | Cynthia, Senri | Norman, Odamaki-hakase | Professor Birch, Original Non-Human Character(s), Original Pokemon Character(s), Original Male Character(s), Original Characters, Tsutsuji | Roxanne, Aqua-dan | Team Aqua, Touki | Brawly, Tsuwabuki Daigo | Steven Stone, Aogiri | Archie, Lutia | Lisia, Gonyonyo no Shigana | Aster the Whismur, Kyogre (Pokemon), Groudon (Pokemon), Rayquaza (Pokemon), Mitsuru | Wally, Tessen | Wattson, Matsubusa | Maxie, Homura | Tabitha, Magma-dan | Team Magma, Jun | Barry, Girii | Aarune, Asuna | Flannery Additional Tags: First Meetings, Self-Insert, Self-Indulgent, Slow Burn, Alternate Canon, Blood, Blood and Injury, Developing Relationship, Complicated Relationships, LGBTQ Character, Pokemon Journey, Talking Pokemon, Houen-chihou | Hoenn Region (Pokemon), Platonic Relationships, Romantic Angst, Minor Character Death, Trans Male Character, Autistic Steven Stone, Transmasculine Wallace, Gore, Death, Nuzlockers are canon in this universe, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Shadow Pokémon are also canon in this universe, yes i bullshitted a pokemon universe version of the twilight saga because i thought it'd be funny, Autistic Character, full disclosure: some parts have been taken loosely from STikER's romhack but not fully, there are fakemon new mega evolutions and regional variants in this fic, sharpy is a baby pokemon of skarmory, masters ex quotes my beloved, Nudity, Public Nudity, it's a hot spring, Strangers to Lovers, Mutual Pining Series: Part 1 of Rachel's Pokémon Adventure Summary:

Growing up with a peculiarly strong connection to Pokémon, it takes a while before Rachel is ready to start her Pokémon journey to become a trainer. But, once she starts, she's sent away to the Hoenn region to make her own path and forge her own independence and her identity. Along the way, she encounters challenges she never thought possible alongside all her new friends and other strange adversaries and ambiguous allies. All while discovering just how deep her connection to Pokémon really goes.

[sinnohelitefourlore]

This is actually insane to me.

Over 100 kudos, 30 comments, and 14 bookmarks of this story I worked so hard on. The NPCs of Pokemon are so important to me, and I think all of them deserve a story, a background, some attention. Thank you to those who've supported me :) For those of you who have love for the gym leaders and elites of the following regions, I highly recommend you have a look at the story.

[queenarahbo]

Holiday Spirit Part 2

You can find part 1 here!

Whumptober Prompt Used:

Day 14 (ALT): Shivering

Finding a restaurant that everyone could agree on was surprisingly effortless. Steven had not been overly concerned about his staff, as they typically enjoyed similar food and often dined together. However, he was uncertain about the preferences of others. Fortunately, everything fell into place seamlessly. Siebold had conducted thorough research in advance, and with the assistance of Lucian and the Sinnoh League's familiarity with the city, the decision was made effortlessly.

Steven had dined at the restaurant in the shopping district multiple times with Cynthia. The upscale establishment offered a diverse menu featuring cuisine from various regions. The location was conveniently within walking distance, which proved to be a pleasant surprise when Malva proposed they walk there. Steven found it curious how Phoebe had begun shadowing Diantha, though he couldn't pinpoint when or why it had started. As they walked to the restaurant, Steven couldn't help but wonder about the dynamics between Phoebe and Diantha. He made a mental note to ask Phoebe about it later.

As Steven observed the various groups mingling, he couldn’t help but notice the dynamics at play. Glacia and Bertha were engrossed in a deep conversation, while Sidney and Flint seemed to be up to something that made him uneasy. Aaron, on the other hand, appeared to be anxious in their company, prompting Steven to make a mental note to keep an eye on them. Knowing Sidney it could be any number of things.

Meanwhile, Drake and Drasna were discussing dragon types, their conversation piquing his interest as they strolled along. The rest of the Kalos members remained clustered together, with Diantha falling back to join him, Lucian, and Cynthia.

As they entered the restaurant, Steven couldn't help but notice the elegant decor and the soft ambiance that enveloped the space. He took a moment to appreciate the attention to detail in the design, from the intricate lighting fixtures to the plush seating arrangements. Steven felt a sense of comfort and familiarity wash over him as he settled into his seat, eager to indulge in the culinary delights that awaited him. At least, he would be if he felt well enough to.

Now, as they gathered around the three tables that had been pushed together, the group delved into a discussion about their upcoming plans. Steven, however, found himself preoccupied with a gnawing ache in his stomach. Despite not feeling hungry, he knew better than to skip dinner, especially with Cynthia likely to fuss at him about it.

“Are you okay?” Diantha’s concerned voice broke through his thoughts. Her eyes were bright with worry, prompting Cynthia also to express her concerns.

“You’ve barely touched your food.” Cynthia put her chopsticks down and turned her attention to Steven.

Feeling the weight of their gazes on him, Steven reluctantly admitted, “I’m just not really hungry.” Great. Everyone was staring at him now. Why couldn’t he just not be hungry without the others making a big deal out of it? He breathed a wary sigh.

Most of the table seemed satisfied with his response, but Diantha and Cynthia continued to watch him closely. Lucian’s subtle interest in their conversation didn’t go unnoticed by Steven, who felt a sense of relief when Diantha finally accepted his explanation and returned to her meal.

A silent exchange with Cynthia conveyed their mutual understanding that he would speak up if something was wrong, unnoticed by the others engrossed in festival talk. Steven was content to let them carry on, grateful for the brief respite from the spotlight.

And he was fine with that.

It meant that he didn’t have to contribute as much to the boisterous conversation. This was typical of him, especially when he wasn’t feeling well like he was now. The nausea was bearable at the moment, but he knew it would worsen if he tried to eat. But he needed to. As he stared at his plate, he felt an unusual chill and suppressed a shiver. Trying to distract himself from the cold, he took a bite of his salad, only to curse silently as his hand shook.

The rest of the meal passed without incident. As expected with a large group, not everyone wanted to do the same thing. They split into smaller groups to explore the city. He found himself drawn to Cynthia, whether intentionally or not, and let his shoulder brush against hers. Lucian and Aaron joined them, followed closely by Drake.

“We’re heading back early,” Cynthia explained with a small smile.

“That sounds good. I have a bit of a headache and Aaron wanted to train with Scizor before the exhibition.” Lucian nodded, turning to Aaron and adding “Did you still want to train with Bronzong?”

“Yeah. That would be good. Thanks.” Aaron nodded, tugging at his jacket sleeves.

Steven’s eyes narrowed slightly as he observed the exchange.

“Do you really think I’ll let you win that easily?” Cynthia challenged Aaron, her eyes sparkling with anticipation. Without waiting for a response, she turned and squeezed Steven’s hand before leading him away. But Aaron wasn’t ready to give up.

“This time we will win!” Aaron declared confidently. “Now that Scizor can mega evolve, there’s no way we can lose!” Suddenly, he had an idea and grabbed Steven’s shoulders. “I know! Can we train with Metagross?”

“Aaron,” Cynthia reprimanded firmly “I doubt that Steven wants to help you train. He’s probably tired from traveling.”

Steven took a step back and suppressed a sigh. He didn’t want to seem rude by declining, but he was really tired. Training with Aaron sounded like the last thing he wanted to do. “I apologize, but she’s right. I’m pretty tired from the trip. Perhaps tomorrow?”

Aaron nodded in understanding, stepping aside, and redirecting his attention back to Lucian. Steven grimaced as his stomach twisted uncomfortably, the small amount he had eaten weighing heavily on him. The others resumed their conversation and Steven was content to listen quietly once more. He tried his best to focus on the warmth of Cynthia’s hand, though he couldn’t feel it through his gloves, rather than the discomfort in his stomach or the slight dizziness he felt.

He jumped when something cold landed on his nose. He ignored Cynthia’s snickering as he furiously wiped away the west sensation. It took him a moment to realize that it was snowing. The fluffy white flakes danced through the air in the gentle breeze.

“It’s freezing out here!” Aaron’s voice interrupted Steven’s thoughts, sparking a sense of amusement in him. The young trainer’s tone reminded him of Phoebe.

“Aaron,” Lucian reprimanded gently, causing Aaron to huff and sulkily mutter an apology.

“Are you cold?”

Cynthia’s voice was soft as she directed the question towards Steven. He knew from the tone it was meant for his ears alone. He had been feeling this strange chill since they left Hoenn, a sensation he found strange but had not dwelled on. Steven nodded in response, knowing they were nearing the league and he would soon be warm again. Hopefully.

However, the overwhelming lights and sounds merged into a cacophony that he was unaccustomed to. A headache was beginning to form in response. He hadn’t expected the city to be so busy. It seemed busier than the previous year. The pain in his head served as a distraction from the gnawing nausea in his stomach. As they continued to walk, the pain in his side only intensified, and a sense of unease crept over him. Something was wrong.

[bodacious-becc]

[In my version of the events of Sword/Shield, The Galar Pokémon League handpicked and invited one trainer per region to partake in this years Gym Challenge as a show of goodwill and as an opportunity to showcase and foster the strength of the Galar League and all it's local and worldly participants alike.]

Representing the Hoenn region are our intrepid Emerald Adventurers, Team Rebecca of Littleroot Town, who are endorsed by the Devon Corporation.

With her array of Pokémon and experiences from across the world, she's a strong candidate for this year's championship!

Rumors say that she received her letter of endorsement from Steven Stone himself, who is supposedly even a friend to her!

[jils-things]

What's wrong with the Steven eng VA? (Actually doesn't know much about pokemon except in Sun & Moon anime)

oh! his voice is just not my thing, it sounds too goofy for me ahaksjdhhs