#i will finish all my Pokémon sketches some day I swear

[twig-2]

The funny little guys

Should I add a submas tag cuz of the submas outfit doodle?? Nahh

(Yes that’s my self insert in a crappy submas outfit, it was my best friend’s idea and i adore it)

[blastingxff]

Fate that Binds pt. 5

This part: Lunch with Jessebelle and James goes about as well as it can. Also, Jessie is the new Eugene because that’s my favorite fairy tale (like even before the Disney movie). 

first part // previous part // next part Series: Pokemon Characters: Jessie, James, Meowth, Pikachu, Ash, Brock, May, Max, Jessebelle Ships: hints of rocketshipping if you read it that way, mostly just friendshipping though Summary: It had been a throwaway wish, something made out of the frustration of the moment- it wasn’t actually supposed to happen. But the magic of a well haunted by a pokemon’s spirit ended up altering reality. Now, Jessie, James, and Meowth aren’t in Team Rocket. They don’t even know each other. And it’s created far darker a world for the TRio than Ash could have ever imagined, and now he and his friends want nothing more than to change things back to how they were. Genre: Friendship, hurt/comfort, so much angst, all the angst, drama, butchered canon, Words: 1,904 / part 5 out of 16 Trigger Warnings (this part): swearing, abuse Notes: This popped into my head and didn’t get out until I wrote it down. It’s 16 chapters, and entirely written already in about three days. So that will explain a helluvalot. Like the bus-sized plotholes. I just wanted to be mean to my favorite characters, geeze, is that so bad? XP Also can be read on Ao3.

Chapter 5

One Week until the Wedding 

This… this isn’t what he wanted.

Those words marqueed in her mind. Her blue eyes shooting towards her travelling companion who looked as though he had gotten little sleep. Did he still blame himself for this? No, Team Rocket had annoyed them all. It was only by sheer chance that she hadn’t wished upon that well herself. I want Team Rocket to just leave us alone.  But this was… this…

This isn’t what he meant.

She tried to meet the eyes of the lavender-haired man across the table, his parents having excused themselves on account of business. Beside him a proper, haughty woman ate her lunch with elegance and poise. His manners were impeccable as well, but his shoulders, while back out of politeness, were heavy out of crushed spirit.

When she had managed to catch those green eyes during one of their brief ventures up from the safety of the plate in front of him, she almost wished she hadn’t. They were dull, faded, holding no sign of his vibrant personality in the sparkling emerald she had glared into on so many occasions, the corners of his lips showed no sign of ever engaging in that joyous laughter she had heard from him before, he had been tamed. Broken.

Ash’s puffy eyes that morning had told her he had been crying. Pikachu’s closeness to him confirmed the fact. And now she felt very much like doing the same.

What she wouldn’t give for this to be an elaborate set-up. For them to stand up right now, rip off the unnatural looking blue formal dress Jessie was wearing, the stiff suit James wore, Meowth disguised as the pretty Jessebelle using Wobbuffet to make himself taller, and start the motto. She realized in the moment she was actually wishing, desperately, for them to try to steal Pikachu.

Jessebelle had just finished telling a “hilarious” story about when their Vileplume accidentally got stun spore all over James’ clothes. May was starting to slowly be convinced of her theory of this being a set-up. That’s it. It had to be a trick. This was too messed up. It had to be. “Sounds like having a vileplume makes so you really need to prepare for trouble.”

Her partners caught on immediately to the last three words, and subsequently on some level realized what she was trying to do.

Jessie’s brow only raised a little, but she continued to eat- using the opportunity to get as full as she could. James remained unmoved, focused on his own food. He hadn’t even noticed.

May’s shoulders fell. No, it wasn’t a trick. Unless they decided to nix the motto in the past twenty-four hours, this was the new reality.

“So, James,” Jessie began to speak suddenly, May’s attention made sharp. It was the first word Jessie had said that day, and it was to him. She exchanged an anxious glance with her brother, “What do you do around here?”

“My fiancé here is a master pianist, he plays the most beautiful songs,” Jessebelle spoke before James even had the chance to register that someone was talking to him. His gaze had shifted from the plate to Jessie. For the first time, their eyes met.

Jessie didn’t back down, “I wasn’t talking to you, I was talking to James.” Her words came sharp; Jessebelle looked affronted that someone would dare speak to her like that, and in her own home!

“Ah yes,” she recovered smoothly, “My darling is a man of few words. I know he doesn’t mind me speaking for him. It saves him the trouble.”

“Really? That’s it? Because you’ve been talking nonstop for the past, hm,” she glanced at her wrist as though it held a watch, “thirty minutes? Hour? Perhaps it’s because he’s a man of few words. Maybe it’s just because you’re a teensy bit conceited.”

May watched Jessebelle’s face start to change color, lips pursed. Before she could retort, however, a small scoff came from the lavender-haired man. A little, light laugh it seemed came from the beaten-down human before them. May realized then how relieved the sound made her feel. For a moment, things seemed almost normal.

“Sweetheart,” the words were anything but soothing, her hand reached out for his, gently caressing his knuckles. The touch made James stiffen unnaturally. His eyes widened, he swallowed. She could see the regret in his eyes.

That woman terrified him.

Satisfied, Jessebelle took back her hand. Jessie’s eyes only hardened as she looked from him to her and back. She looked like she wanted to say something, but a familiarity to the situation held her tongue. It’s the exact same. May realized, give or take a couple hundred grand.

The awkward silence filled the large dining room. Brock broke it, “Hey, so, Miss Jessebelle?”

Her attention was earned. 

“Have you ever heard of any mysterious wells or the like?”

“Mysterious wells? How do you mean?” It seems James’ offense had been forgiven, but he had yet to relax. His eyes were fixated on the plate. He showed no sign of having heard anyone.

“We came across a beautifully decorated one. We’d like to know more about it,” Brock explained.

“It was a blueish color, with a purple roof and gold bricks at its mouth,” offered Max, getting out a notebook from his backpack to draw its shape, “the roof’s shingles had carvings on them of a Pokémon I think. Um… I don’t remember exactly….”

May thought back to the well, trying to imagine the top of it. She had looked at those carvings closely, their uniqueness drawing her in. The image took shape in her mind, “Oh! I remember!”

Max handed her the notebook and she sketched from her mind. Perhaps it would be a little different in reality, but the drawing was good enough she felt. She turned around the notebook so that the couple across from them could get a look.

James slowly glanced up, as though trying to make sure that Jessebelle didn’t see him examining the picture. He tilted his head, and May saw a glint in his eyes. He knows something. “I’ve never seen such an ugly thing in my life,” Jessebelle waved her hand, pushing the notebook away with a flick in the air, “Now put that away. It isn’t proper to draw at the table. If we’re done with our main course, I would love for you to join us in the parlor. My fiancé simply loves to play the piano for guests.”

She stood up, glancing over at Jessie, “Unfortunately, there’s only room for six in the parlor. You are dismissed.”

“Bitch,” she coughed, “I didn’t want to see you treat James like a fucking dancing mankey anyway.”

She grabbed a bread roll, giving the finger before turning, “I’ll get our shit together so when you come back from the circus we can split.”

May watched the woman leave, turning back to see that she wasn’t the only one. James’ face told her that he wanted every bit to go with her. To have the courage to talk to Jessebelle that same way.

“Sweetheart,” the name caused a tremor to shake through James’ body, “Please don’t make me ask you to get up again. Go play the piano, our guests expect the best.”

All he could do was nod, accepting her order. May felt heartbreak in her gut. His walk was too heavy. It looked as though he were an old, frail man- too weak to defend himself. Too beaten to know he was worth defending.

They had to fix this.

* * *

 “Guys where’s Jessie?” the question came by the light of the campfire. They hadn’t gone far from the mansion, as per Jessie’s request. But as they settled down for the evening with the bare supplies they had managed, they realized she was missing.

Her few items, however, remained.

Instead of worry, the four decided to wait to see if she was there once more by morning.

Max realized, as he went through his backpack, his notebook was missing a page. The page with the drawing of the well.

 * * *

“Knock knock, Rapunzel.”

The voice broke through the otherwise silent room in one of the four towers of the mansion. James found himself turning around quick, eyes wide as he saw a figure sitting in one of the two window sills, “Did they really lock these windows from the outside? Like what the fuck are you, some sort of animal? Geeze. Is that door locked too?”

James’ eyes went towards where Jessie was pointing, the only door in the room. He returned his look to her, and nodded.

“Fuck. And I thought I had it bad. What happens when you gotta piss? Got a pot in the corner or something? Damn,” she let her sneakered shoes touch the inside of the room, “So, wanna go get into some trouble? We can make it back here before they even notice you’re gone.”

 He froze as he tried to register what she had just said. She stepped forward, waving her hand in front of his face, “Hey, James, Jimmy, Jim, come on, I’m breaking you out.”

Suddenly, realization seemed to hit. He backed away, shaking his head violently, his eyes went to the door as though terrified his ‘beloved fiancée’ would come through, terrified she’d see this, terrified she’d realize that he wasn’t alone.

“Fine, then I’ll kidnap you. I’ll return you by morning. If they find out, I’ll hold you ransom, okay? It’ll all be because I’m a thug and you come out smelling like a rose. Deal?”

She held out her hand for him to shake. He hesitated longer, “What do you want?”

The words came from a voice that hadn’t been used in who knows how long. But she didn’t let him see the sorrow she held for that. Pity sucked, “Just for you to play by my rules.”

He paused, looking at her hand, then up to study her face. Find her bluff. Find the trick. Her deal was tempting to him; she could tell he had a deep desperation to get out of that building. How long had he been trapped in there? But fear was holding him back. After a moment she saw his eyes narrow with resolve. He had nothing to lose. With a deep breath he reached out, taking her hand, “Deal. How did you find me?”

Her grin was genuine this time. She went to the window, “Don’t ask me no questions and I’ll tell you no lies. Just follow my steps,” she was already halfway out, starting to let herself down. Before her head dipped below the sill, she looked at the man who seemed to still be caught in a little bit of inner turmoil, but the reasonable side of the turmoil appeared to be losing satisfactorily.

“If I’m the princess then, does that make you a prince?”

“Prince?” her nose scrunched, “Too many rules. How about I’m the handsome rogue? You okay with handsome rogues?”

He feigned thought on the matter before returning with a smile, “I think that’s okay.”

“He does smile!” She let herself return his faked thought with her own acted surprise. “Looks good on you. Now let’s get out of here. We got a lot to do and an itty bitty time to do it!”