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voids-colourful-creations · 1 year

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Through Thunder and Lightning - A Liko Fic

[Read on Ao3!]

Rated: G Pokémon Horizons Liko & Rising Volteccers (Platonic) Content Warnings: Descriptions of panic and sensory overload. Words: 3.4k

Summary: Liko watches Nyahoja become nothing more than a small speck in the distance as Amethio flies away with it. Left sitting there in the rain, she takes the first steps to getting it back… in the morning. First, she needs to rest. (A scene insert between episode 2 and 3)

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The raindrops still clung to Liko’s clothes, her skin, her hair. It was cold, tiny stings that dotted across her body.

She wasn’t used to this kind of feeling, this aching gap in her chest. She hated it.

The sight of Nyahoja’s paws scratching at the ground as it slipped over the edge of the deck was burned into her mind, lingering like a ghost wherever she looked.

“Come on. We can’t just sit out here.” The voice came from above her; still unfamiliar to Liko even though it wasn't the first time she’d heard Friede speak.

Liko stood, Friede’s arm still around her. Rather, he pulled her upwards, standing up with a light tug at her arm.

He hovered over her as he led her back towards the tower she’d been hiding in. Smoke from the move that Amethio’s Soublades had used still unfurled, even as the rain continued to beat down. Friede directed her to yet another door, tucked into the central column of the ship, this time around the side from where she’d been hiding. A back up entry point, presumably the one that Liko had watched Molly retreat to only moments ago.

They stepped in and out of the rain, and Liko ducked out of Friede’s arm. He didn’t seem to mind.

Thunder cracked in perfect timing with lightning outside, and Liko tried to not flinch. It didn’t work all too well, but by this point there wasn't much face she had left to save.

A staircase loomed in front of Liko, plunging down dark into inky depths she couldn't see the bottom of.

“I’ll go first,” Friede said as he walked forward. “It looks kinda creepy when the powers out like this, but it’s not scary at all in the light.”

His voice faded slightly as Liko watched him retreat deeper into the dark. She followed, steps still shaky. The only thing scarier than walking into the dark creepy staircase on the strange floating ship, following the man who swept her away from her school without explaining a word, was being alone.

It was loud around her.

The rain continued to pelt the ship from all sides, it was a cacophony only blurred by the ship's metal exterior. Every drop banged against the ship, and every sound collected together into a tangled web of noise Liko felt like she was drowning in.

It was a blurry almost-pain.

She stared downwards at her feet as she walked down the stairs. A soft red glow poured out from the stairs. Emergency lightning.

Tinted crimson, Liko focused on her own feet as they stepped further and further into the inky unknown.

Each time she took another step down, she could feel the squish of impact, her sopping wet sock in an equally wet shoe. She was probably just stepping through her own personal puddles at this point. Despite the noise from outside, the squishing sound was still stuck in her ears every time she took a step.

She had to keep her steps careful, the bottom of her soles were slick, and her limbs still felt shaky. It wouldn’t be hard to slip down here, tumble downwards and downwards where Liko couldn’t even see.

If she hadn't slipped, maybe she would’ve been able to catch Nyahoja before it fell. If she’d been more careful about where she was standing, maybe she would’ve prevented Nyahoja from slipping in the first place. If she’d been more careful when commanding Nyahoja, if she hadn’t of gotten involved, if she’d never tried to run and given over the pendant in the first place-

Her thoughts were running headlong into each other again, and all Liko could think was that if she had just been better , things wouldn’t be the way they are.

Her head hurt.

She couldn’t tell if it was from the noise or the rain or the altitude, but it pressed in on her, a grip from all sides that closed in on her thoughts. Maybe the cause was all three.

It was a static sort of noise, fuzzy and uncomfortable. Friede was whispering something into his phone that only mixed with the ocean of loud that Liko’s surrounded in.

Or maybe he wasn’t whispering. Every sound seemed blurry, it was all blending together. So Liko couldn’t exactly tell.

It didn’t matter, really.

Liko only noticed they'd made it to the bottom of the staircase when she went to step down and was met with flat floor. The door in front of her was pushed open, and Friede held it for her as she stepped through.

There was hardwood beneath her. That was pretty much the only thing she could notice. With her senses muted and her emotions feeling like they were washed out.

She couldn’t stand this, the way the air she tries to breathe in feels like it was slipping away from her. It was a scary, shaky, feeling. Liko bit her tongue and tried to focus on breathing, on not crying all too much.

“Here ya go.”

The jagged and rough thoughts that scraped against Liko’s mind were met with something softer.

A towel, actually; it was white and fluffy, and it has been tossed right onto Liko’s head.

“Ah-“ Liko opened her mouth to reply, but the usual polite thank you she has prepared on her tongue doesn’t fall out like it’s meant to. Words caught in a web again, she can’t make herself speak how she’s supposed to.

“Dry yourself off, alright? We don’t want you catching cold.”

The voice (somewhat monotone, but not all that deep. That woman from earlier, then. Molly, she’d said.) didn’t seem particularly upset or angry. If anything, her tone was gentler, careful with Liko.

Liko reached up towards the towel, rubbing it against her hair and face to try and soak up the rain water.

Once she’d deemed herself sufficiently dry, she pulled the towel downwards, messing up her hair in the process. Stray hairs flew out in every direction, static electricity making them hover outwards from her face.

Liko wrapped the towel around her shoulders, pulling it inwards in front of her like a blanket. Still damp, and not all too warm, but the light weight felt comforting around her.

Molly stood in front of her, crouching slightly to be closer to Liko’s eye level.

Usually, when adults did that, she felt some sort of condescension. Being looked down upon in a way that made her feel uneasy in her skin.

It didn’t feel like that right now.

“Bit better, yeah?”

Liko nodded, words still failing her for the time being.

“We should get you out of those wet clothes though….” Molly mused, “Soon, if not now.”

Liko shook her head, which Molly took to mean as “Later, then.”

Liko had already exhausted herself as it was, she wasn’t sure she even had the energy for something so simple at the moment.

She trembled still, only slightly. Tremors that she tried to conceal by pulling the towel around her closer, not that it did much to help. She took a quick look across the room. Friede had disappeared before she’d even noticed.

“That can’t be all too warm.” Another voice interjected, much more vibrant than Molly’s. Liko turned her head, a woman with golden hair that faded to orange beside her.

“Here, trade me!” She said, holding out a blanket.

It was a bit faded, a quilt of some kind judging by the stitching. The fabric was a beige sort of colour, the fabric worn down into something soft to the touch.

Slowly, Liko pulled the towel off her shoulders, holding it out to the woman as she took the quilt from her.

It was very soft, and she wrapped it around herself just as easily.

She was still damp, her uniform was soaked through, but the blanket helped.

She wanted to say thank you , and also where are we going and I need to go find Nyahoja now so please let me off and I’m sorry even though she couldn’t place what she’d be apologizing to them for.

She didn’t say anything.

The women exchanged a glance with each other, nodding wordlessly.

They were judging her, by one merit or another, Liko realized. Oddly, a fear of not measuring up to expectations flared in the back of her mind. Of course, by now she’d likely failed any tests anyone here had been trying to set for her, formally or otherwise.

Her heart rate picked up a bit when the weight of everything settled on her shoulders again.

She did not know these people. She did not know where she was. The only things she knew were that Nyahoja was gone and it’s her fault, and that some other people she did not know are after her and her pendant.

Everywhere she looked, there was someone to be afraid of. Everything in her was screaming that she should run , but there was nowhere to run to, and her legs were shaking too hard to go anywhere at all. She wasn’t even sure she could take one step as she was now.

All of her was shaking.

“Hey, kiddo. Deep breath, yeah? You want some tea?”

Molly’s voice again, her hand reaching out in Liko’s direction. It hovered over her, not quite touching.

Liko’s voice remained absent, but she ducks her head down and nods. It’s polite to accept, so she’s been taught.

“Alright, I’ll start the kettle then.”

A small bzzt! Sounded out as Molly’s phone zipped out of her pocket, hovering in the air for a moment. Molly reached forward just as the phone suddenly plummeted in midair, falling directly into her awaiting hand.

Vibrant against the darkness of the room, Liko caught the silhouette of a Rotom darting to her left before it disappeared, and the electric kettle clicked itself on.

“Nice one.” Molly said with hushed breath, praising her Pokemon.

Molly continued to busy herself with the tea prep, and Liko tried to look around the area a bit just to get a better sense of her surroundings.

There was a table. Chairs. Vase of flowers on the table?

She was looking at everything the same way she always is, her eyes functioning just as normal, but she can’t quite seem to get the details to stick in her mind. It’s all just. Dulled at the edges.

A gentle chuckle came from behind Liko’s head.

“You’re still dripping a bit onto the floor.”

The other woman said.

Liko looked to her feet again, registering the small puddle she’d collected. Her socks were so damp she hadn’t even realized.

“I’m sorry.”

They were the first words she’d been able to choke out, though they were still tangled up in her anxieties. The phrase came out diminished; her voice didn’t sound right.

“Eh, don’t worry. Hardly the worst this old floor has seen! Your clothes must be soaked through though.”

Liko nodded.

“Well, you’ll be able to dry ‘em here, so I suppose it’s nothin to worry about.”

Liko paused at that for a moment, then nodded. Even if she was confused, best to go along with whatever they said.

“Which tea do you want?” Molly’s voice came through again. She walked over to Liko, holding out two bags of tea. Liko couldn’t focus enough to read either label, but she recognized the one cupped in Molly’s right hand. That shade of green, the sort of tea her Grandmother liked.

Thinking about her grandmother only made Liko’s heart squeeze tighter, so silently she pointed out at the green bag.

“Yeah? Thought so. One sec…”

Molly trailed off as she turned back around.

It was odd.

These people couldn’t be trusted, and Liko knew this. Maybe it was just the adrenaline wearing off, but she found herself wanting to sink into this rhythm. It was nice, the gentleness.

“Here you are.”

Molly handed Liko a teacup, paper tag fluttering slightly as Liko accepted it.

Liko cradles the drink in her palms for a moment. The warmth of it seeped into her palms, it was a comforting weight to hold.

“I’ve got some for you too, Orio. And me, too.”

“Aw, you’re the best.”

Liko watched carefully as the other woman, Orio then, accepted the cup and took a drink without hesitation.

Her face screwed up.

“‘-T’s hot!!”

Molly laughed lightly, trying to cover the sound with her fingertips to no avail.

“Again, Orio? You do this every time.”

Orio stuck out her tongue in Molly’s direction. Molly, raising an eyebrow, blew lightly on her tea, then took a sip.

“Mm. That’s nice.” She murmured, looking up and over to Orio, who only glared further.

The tension melted as soon as it formed though, they were only playing at any sort of dispute.

Giving it a light blow of her own, Liko took her own sip of tea.

It was stronger than she was expecting, but she liked it that way. It was nice to have something solid to hold onto, a taste to feel in her mouth that wasn’t her own unspoken words.

For a while, Liko just sat with that. With warm tea, with two strangers, with the blanket around her shoulders soaking up a bit more water from her uniform.

It was funny now, how tired she’d become just by sitting down. Or rather, the exhaustion of everything was really catching up to her now. The adrenaline had held her out for longer than she’d been expecting, but even that had long since settled away by now, leaving Liko weary and on the verge of sleep.

She cradled the teacup in her right hand, reaching up to rub at her eyes with the other, as if she could brush the sleepiness away from herself.

Her grip on the teacup loosened, threatening to slip out of her grasp and tumble onto the floor. Instead, Orio reached forward, taking the cup out of Liko’s hands and gently setting it on the table.

“Whoops, there we are. Bit more steady.”

Part of Liko wanted to protest, but the rest of her was much too tired to do anything much more than blink there and try to fight back against sleep.

Molly glanced over to her phone, then back over to Liko.

“Oh, it’s later than I thought.”

Orio glanced over, eyes widening.

“Oh wow, yeah.” She turned her attention back over to Liko, “You’ve gotta be exhausted.”

Liko just nodded dimly.

“Mm, thought so.”

Orio stood, taking Liko’s teacup as well as her own back over towards the kettle.

“Mol, the extra room, how’s it looking?”

“Bad.” Molly replied bluntly. “It’s a storage closet with an unmade bed in it at the moment. Putting her in your room would be better.”

“Good idea!” Orio replied, placing the cups down. “Liko can take my bed, I’ll share with you.”

Molly grumbled slightly.

“Unless you’re volunteering your room for her?”

Molly shook her head, “No, better your room than mine. But you’re sleeping on the floor this time.”

“Fineeee!” Orio singsonged, walking back over to the table.

“Whadja say, Liko? Seems like a good time to get some rest, yeah?”

“Mm-yea…” Liko mumbled out, her words still blurring together in mind and aloud.

“Gotcha, let’s head on over then.”

Orio placed her hand on Liko’s shoulder, gently guiding her forward. As she exited, she waved back over her shoulder to Molly.

“See ya in a bit!”

Back through the interior of the ship, Orio gently pushed Liko out into a hall and up a staircase, eventually leading them back up to the deck.

The rain still beat down upon the ship, but the ship's layout meant they were protected from getting hit by it. It vaguely reminded Liko of walking out on her porch when it rained, only a lot higher up.

The wooden deck beneath her was still smooth and dry, though a smattering of raindrop sparks bounced towards her feet as it continued to pour. An uneven line was drawn out by the gap, where the rain had soaked everything through and the divide to where it was untouched. Those stray droplets skewed the line, bouncing out of place to encroach further on the “safe zone”.

Liko was broken out of her train of thought when she stumbled backwards, Orio’s arm keeping her in place from walking any further.

“This one here’s my room!” Orio said with pride, stepping forward to bang her fist against a sturdy metal door. “It’s a bit untidy, but it’s clean!”

Liko ducked her head down towards Orio.

“A-ah- th-thank you.”

Orio grinned.

“Don’t mention it! If there’s anything you need, just let me know, yeah?”

Liko nodded.

“Great! Oh, and if you want, leave that soaked uniform out here for me. I’ll get those cleaned and dried up for ya, no worries!”

Liko gripped the strap of her backpack just that bit tighter. Thank goodness she’d grabbed it. The spare set of clothes Ann had urged her to stuff in there in case they’d ever have an impromptu sleepover had felt like a waste at the time, but now she couldn’t be more grateful.

“I will.” She says, bowing her head down again. “Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it!” Orio chimed, waving her off. “I’ll leave ya to it then, you’re probably tired enough without me blabbing on. Have a good night, Liko.”

And with that, she turned and walked back the way she came, leaving Liko with the door.

With a bit of effort, Liko pushed it open.

The room, as Orio had warned, was rather messy.

Across the stained wooden floors lay maps and tools in all varieties and sizes. The largest map took up nearly a quarter of the floor space, held down by a couple wrenches and a screwdriver. The bed was unmade, but at least it’s got a pillow. Liko shuffled forward, pulling the blanket still wrapped around her shoulders off and onto the bed. There. Much better.

Liko gingerly stepped around the blueprints, placing her backpack down and rummaging through it until she found the smaller bag she’d kept her clothes in.

‘Thank you, Ann.’ Liko thought to herself as pulls the bag out. ‘I’m sorry too, Ann. I’ve just gone and disappeared on you now, haven’t I? When you come back to our dorm it’ll be all messed up… the window will be open… Then again, I don’t think you’d really mind.”

Then again, Liko thought that maybe Ann would be excited by the whole prospect, save for losing Nyahoja. Like it was some kind of adventure. Liko almost wanted to laugh at that. If anyone should be the heroine of some story, it was Ann right? A spirited girl with lots of energy and a friendly attitude. Not Liko.

She wasn’t suited for a role like this! Surely the audience would protest? But maybe it was too late for that.

Liko yawned, trying to cover her mouth with her palm to conceal it even though no one was there.

On autopilot, she’d gotten changed without even thinking about it, and so she folded her worn clothes into a neat pile and left it sitting outside the door.

She wasn’t entirely sure if that Orio woman was really going to take care of it, but it was only a school uniform. She had others if anything happened to that one, and it wasn’t as if they didn’t already know what school she went to.

With all that settled, Liko walked back over to the bed, letting herself collapse down on top of it. She rolled over, pulling the blanket along with her.

This was all so strange. Awful and scary, and yet not entirely bad.

These people, not entirely trustworthy but not entirely evil.

There was a kindness to them, to this ship, that undercut the chill of the rain, of Liko’s fears.

She couldn’t let herself melt into that warmth, their warmth, when she still had to save Nyahoja. Nyahoja would love this ship, Liko was certain.

It was her pokemon. It was her fault. It was her responsibility. And Liko was so prepared to try and right her mistakes alone but…

It was so hard.

“Nevermind that,” she thought to herself, “In the morning, I’ll fix it.”

But even then, her thoughts came blurry and half formed, as she already began to slip into sleep.

Through faded memories of her grandmother, Liko slept curled in on herself as the storm faded out. There, with a drive she hadn’t experienced before, tucked away by a new sort of kindness she had no idea how to accept.

The storm they’d found themselves in would only rage on for so long, the lightning would quit jittering across the sky, the thunder's growl would fade to a gentle murmur.

In the morning, Liko woke up to sunlight shining in on her face.

[End!]

#pokemon #pokeani #pkmn #anipoke #trainer liko #pokemon horizons #pokemon liko #volteccer liko #nyahoja #sprigatito #professor friede #trainer friede #volteccer friede #volteccer molly #volteccer orio

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oh-no-my-hand-slipped · 1 year

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I Choose A’TCHIEW! : Part 2

A sequel, anonymous commission

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Fandom: Pokémon (Personal OCs)

Word Count: 2921

Genre: Big Sneezes, Contagion

CW/TW: Mild Pokémon Abuse

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“First try, huh, Asp? I guess you really have been paying attention during my pokéball throwing lessons.”

“I suppose I have.”

Aspen’s chest filled with pride as he looked down at his freshly used pokéball. Instead of being scratched up like the others, this one was fresh from the center. It shone and glittered in his palm as he held it up to admire it. This was the first pokémon he had caught since his journey began – all his other pokémon had either been given to him or had been abandoned by their last trainers, so he was quite out of practice.

Fervia slapped him on the back, almost knocking Aspen over.

“Those things are hard to catch, too, jumpin’ all over the place…”

Aspen smiled, putting the pokéball on his belt. “Hopefully, this is only the first of many.”

“Poetic as always, eh?”

The pair made their way through the underbrush, planning on their next catch. Fervia had her heart set on an Eevee, since she could evolve it into whatever she wanted. And, she admitted, they were pretty cute to boot. Aspen, on the other hand, had always had a soft spot for fairy types, and would be more than happy to add a Chansey to his team. He’d always liked healing pokemon more than battling them, anyway.

Fervia was in the middle of reading which stones caused which evolutions in Eevees when Aspen suddenly stopped in the middle of the path.

“Did you hear that?”

“Hear what?” Fervia asked, not looking up.

“That snapping sou-”

Aspen couldn’t even finish his sentence before his feet were suddenly swept out from under him, and his entire body was yanked into the air. The world spun around him, only coming to a stop when he was thoroughly dizzy. When he could finally open his eyes without feeling sick, Aspen was hanging upside down by the ankles, something hard and cold wrapped around his ankles.

“Now, what’ve we got here?”

Aspen heard a rustling in the bushes, and craned his head as far as he could. All he could see was a pair of steel-toed boots coming out of the foliage.

“Aw, cripes…snf!...another pair of junior scouts.”

Another voice piped up not far behind.

“Like, bummer. You’ll get ‘em next time, babe. Ocean’s full of waves, y’know?”

Just at the edge of his vision, a pair of dirt-covered water shoes sidled beside them. Aspen could suddenly feel Fervia struggling against him.

“Ngh…what’s the big idea?” she groaned, blindly reaching out her arms.

“The big idea, luv,” the first voice replied, “is catchin’ the pokémon that run through this path with my state of the art equipment. But then you muckers had to…snf!...muck it all up!”

Aspen tried to lift himself up, but only got about as far as his waist.

“Well, it is a bit difficult to see your traps. Perhaps you should put up a sign or something?” he strained, wincing as the metal dug into his ankles.

“Oh, yeah, sure, as if pokémon can’t read,” their captor replied. “Tell you this for free – you don’t know the first thing about trapping pokémon.”

Aspen wanted to say that she didn’t seem to know either, but he held his tongue.

Fervia, however, wasn’t so wise.

“Why don’tcha just battle pokemon like everybody else? Can’t throw a pokéball?”

“‘S more effective,” came the short reply.

“Hah! I betcha can’t catch a Rattata with this thing.”

The ropes above them strained as Fervia fought against their restraints. Metal squealed on metal as Aspen’s stomach dropped.

“I caught you lot, didn’t I?”

Fervia grunted. “Yeah, and if you don’t let us down in three seconds, I’m gonna - ”

CRACK!

The steel ropes snapped in two, sending the pair tumbling to the ground. Luckily, the soil had few rocks, and a bit of moss to cushion his fall. But Aspen still saw stars, the sudden impact knocking the wind out of him. He instinctively laid his hand on the pokéballs on his belt as he laid on the ground.

One. Two. Three. Four.

All there.

“Careful what you wish for there, luv!” their captor guffawed, only pausing to cough from the dust they had kicked up upon landing.

She kept laughing as Fervia helped Aspen to his feet. Though the fall was painful, it at least gave them a chance to get a good look at the pair in front of them.

The steel-toed boots belonged to a tall woman with long, jet-black hair and a pair of dark, shining eyes to match. Aspen recognized her outfit – it was one that would-be explorers often wore when they stopped by their village on their way to reach the top of a nearby mountain. Thin cargo shorts, a charcoal gray shirt, and a flimsy vest, all topped off with a large hat folded and pinned on one side with a steel-gray button. The splattering of freckles on her nose scrunched in her mirth, and she scrubbed it with a gloved finger.

Like a Ducklett next to a Liepard, the other stranger stood, with a large blue backpack to match his shoes. He seemed to be carrying enough for both of them, with odds and ends spilling out of the pockets and between the zippers. But, despite his petite frame, he held the weight well, even leaning nonchalantly against a nearby tree. He was even less dressed for the weather than his partner was – a pair of seafoam green shorts and a white tank top.

More for the beach than a mountain, Aspen thought.

The man fished something out of his pocket, offering it to the woman. It was a pack of tissues, already open and half gone. The woman snatched one out of the packet and blew her nose, then started with a snort.

“Huh-? Hah…HAH-! HYAA’TSHUUUH!”

“Aw, man, did I grab the scented ones?”

The man looked on the back of the package while the woman wiped her nose on her sleeve.

“Run on home, kiddies,” she sniffled, trying to clean up her running nose. “We’ve got Pokemon to catch, and we don’t need ya steppin’ in any more of our traps.”

“You probably scared ‘em all away with that sneeze,” Fervia snapped back. “Besides, if you don’t wanna catch real trainers, maybe you shouldn’t set your traps all over the walking path!”

The woman’s eyes flashed, her cheeks turning as red as her nose. Her partner put a hand on her shoulder.

“Anortha, maybe we should, like, head back to the center. Get you checked out. That Toxicroak-”

“Putta sock in it, Wade,” Anortha growled.

Even though it had been a while since Aspen had seen Toxicroak in the Pokedex, he knew all about both the pokémon’s aggression and their many poison moves. If she had tried to catch it with one of her faulty traps, the Toxicroak probably wouldn't have been too happy about it.

No wonder Anortha felt ill.

With a sudden twinge of compassion, Aspen tried to pull Fervia aside.

“Fervia, I don’t think -”

Fervia jerked away from his touch. Meanwhile, a grin had appeared on Anortha’s face, like an Arbok ready to strike.

“You think I’m not a real trainer, eh? Well…”

Anortha reached into the backpack Wade was holding and pulled out a gray pokéball unlike any Aspen had ever seen. The back of the ball was covered in wires, and dark burn marks surrounded the clasp. Anortha’s grin grew even wider.

“Why don’tcha prove it, then, luv?”

Before Aspen could stop her, Fervia had already stepped up to the clearing, brandishing her own pokéballs.

“I’ll show ya what an adventurer really looks like.”

In the blink of an eye, they threw their pokéballs into the clearing to reveal their pokémon. Anortha’s ball popped, buzzed, and spun before a Magnemite dizzily made its way to the center. Fervia’s Charmeleon joined it, brandishing its claws and fans with a whip of its fiery tail. Despite his concern, Aspen was still proud of Fervia’s strategy in her choice. Fire-types are one of Steel-types primary weaknesses – if she played her cards right, this battle would be over soon enough.

“I’ll give ya a head start,” Fervia said, smirking. “You’re gonna need it.”

Anortha, who seemed a little less confident now, still stood her ground.

“Your funeral, kid- snf! Magnemite! Use Gyro Ball!”

The Magnemite’s magnets began to spin around its body, and it charged towards Charmeleon.

“Charmeleon! Fire Fang!”

With practiced timing, Charmeleon jumped, then brought its red-hot fangs down onto Magnemite’s sensitive screw. Magnemite screeched in pain as part of the screw began to melt.

“Again!” Anortha cried, completely ignoring her pokémon’s distress. “‘N look where you're going this time!”

After a final whirring whimper, Magnemite did as it was told. But, with every charge, Charmeleon met it with a scorching canine or a swinging tail. Fervia was laser-focused, leading attack after attack, until Magnemite was covered with red, pulsing burns and dents. Anortha had turned just as red, barking orders to no avail.

“Oy, turn around! Left! Your other left, you bloody piece of scrap metal!”

As Magnemite tottered towards Charmeleon again, Charmeleon, with a sharp-toothed smile, puffed up its cheeks and blew a cloud of smoke into Magnemite’s face. The smoke blew past the clearing, and surrounded Anortha.

“Koff! Get that - koff! Use…use…!”

Her next order faltered as her nose began to twitch. Anortha jammed a finger under her nose.

“G-Gyro…bah…hah-!”

Her eyes crossed to look at her flaring nostrils as her chest rose and fell with every gasping hitch. Though she tried to tell Magnemite to attack, her desperate gestures were no use.

“B-Blimey-! I…gah-! By…d-dose…hah-! HAH-!”

She leaned back, her quivering nose high in the air. Charmeleon and Magnemite stopped their battle to look at Anortha, then looked at each other.

“GAH-! HAAAH-!”

The pokemon leaped from either side of the clearing, out of the way of Anortha’s powerful nose.

Fervia, however, wasn’t so lucky.

“HYYYA’TCHHHHHUUUUUH!”

The enormous sneeze sprayed across the clearing, covering Fervia in a fine mist. She spluttered and staggered away from the clearing. Meanwhile, through her snot-soaked sleeve, Anortha whispered to Wade through gritted teeth, who reluctantly joined her with a blue pokéball in hand. With Fervia indisposed, Aspen had no choice but to speak up.

“Oh, erm, hold on a moment! I thought this was a one on one match!”

Still wiping her streaming nose, Anortha snickered.

“I don’d - snf! - see a referee, d’you, mate?”

Wade threw his pokéball to the ground, and a Squirtle with blue sunglasses rolled out on its shell. It looked around confusedly, then stared at its owner.

“I know, dude,” Wade said, rubbing the back of his neck. “You’re not a battling pokémon. But, like, you know how Anortha is. Especially when she’s losing. Just a few Water Guns and we can chillax, ‘kay?”

The Squirtle shrugged, did a “right on” gesture with its claws, then put its sunglasses into its shell. Aspen’s heart sank. Charmeleon could deal with one opponent while its trainer was focused, but now with a second Water-type opponent and a distracted Fervia…

“Okay, dude! Show off those rad waves you’ve been practicing!”

Squirtle nodded, retreating into its shell. Suddenly, a beam of water burst out of the shell’s opening, shooting the pokémon high into the air. Without Fervia’s direction, Charmeleon squinted at the sky and went from side to side, trying to dodge whatever attack came its way.

When Squirtle was at the peak of its ascent, it spun towards Charmeleon, took a moment to aim, then spewed a massive wave of water onto the clearing. Even if Charmeleon had seen it coming, there was no way he could dodge it.

By the time the wave passed, Charmeleon was flat on its stomach, its tail only barely flickering.

“Charmeleon!” Fervia cried.

Charmeleon shakily pushed itself up by the claws, only just keeping its balance. Anortha did her signature guffaw, though it was cut off by a rough cough.

“That’s more lige it! Alright, Magnemite, let’s try this again. Use - snf! - Gyro Ball!”

Magnemite bobbed in the air, looking down at Charmeleon. It let out a scraping whine, its magnets slowly circling.

“C’mon, while he’s down! What are you waiding for?!”

Aspen knew that the attack would be enough to not only knock him out of the battle, but do some real damage. With how wet Charmeleon was, the electric attack would fry him.

Even if it was against battle protocol, he had to do something.

While Anortha was distracted with her reluctant Magnemite, he slowly took a pokéball from his belt.

“Wade!” Anortha said, turning to her partner. “Do the - snf! - wave again! Thad’ll take the sucker out!”

The Squirtle was lying on its back, sunbathing. Wade shook his head.

“No can do, babe. That attack took a lot out of him. He’s gotta, like, chill first before he does another battle.”

Anortha growled in frustration, turning back to her own pokémon.

“If you don’t blast that Charbeleon back into its pokéball,” she said, her voice getting dangerously quiet. “I’ll use ya as bait for a real mean Arbok I’ve been trackin’.”

Magnemite squeaked, and its magnets slowly began to turn, picking up speed as it went towards the stumbling Charmeleon. Aspen threw his pokeball into the clearing.

“Gogoat, I choose you!”

Just as Magnemite was about to make contact, one of its magnets was caught on a large horn. Aspen’s Gogoat stood in front of Charmeleon, steam streaming out of its nostrils. Gogoat bucked its head, causing Magnemite to fly backwards.

“No, no!” Anortha cried. “You can’d just…I was about to…you can’d just throw your bleedin’ pokémon into the ring!”

Aspen chuckled, allowing himself a small smile.

“I don’t see a referee, do you?”

Fervia laughed, though still splattered with the remains of their opponent's sneeze. As Anortha sputtered, Aspen nodded to Gogoat, pointing at the dazed Magnemite.

“Use Earthquake!”

Gogoat bleated, and large rocks formed above the clearing. They hurdled towards a still bumbling Magnemite, and made impact with the loud crunch and crackle of stone. As the rocks crumbled, Magnemite was slowly revealed underneath, unmoving.

“YA RUSTY OLD TIN CAN!”

Anortha ran into the cleaning, trying to prop Magnemite up inside the crater. But he only fell down again, completely faint. Wade replaced her in combat, but Aspen had already planned for his Water type attacks.

“Gogoat! Razor Leaf!”

Gogoat pawed its hoof into the earth, charging up his attack.

“Like, do your Water Gun! Hurry!” Wade said, his voice cracking.

Squirtle pursed its lips and filled its cheeks, shooting out short blasts of water. Gogoat easily dodged the weak attacks, then, with a stomp of its hooves, released its attack. Swirls of sharp leaves surrounded Squirtle and Anortha, who was still in the clearing. Squirtle retreated into its shell, but it was no use. By the time the attack ended, Squirtle was flat on its shell, with cracked sunglasses halfway off its face.

“Squirtle! Dude!” Wade cried, putting Squirtle back into its pokéball.

Anortha stood up, nudging the limp Magnemite to the side with her foot.

“I want a rema- a remaaAA’TCHUUUUH!”

The pollen from the Razor Leaf was still heavy in the air. Wade put an arm around her shoulders, offering up the package of tissues.

“Babe, we need to get our pokémon to the center. And you too. You don’t, like, look so good.”

“I want a - snf! - rebatch,” Anortha said, more quietly this time.

“I know, I know. I bet we’ll see them again. Small world, right?”

“HYYAA’TCHUUUUUH!”

“Let’s get you to see Nurse Joy, ‘kay? Just let me get Magnemite, and - ”

“Ndo. Leave thad pile of garbage where he belongs - TCHUUH!”

With a small apologetic look, Wade had no choice but to leave with Anortha, her sneezes still echoing through the forest long after they were gone.

**************************************

“Huh…HRA’KSHIIIIIEW!”

“More tea?”

“Snf…yeah.”

Fervia held out her small metal cup, and Aspen filled it.

“She didn’d even give be the winning fee,” Fervia mumbled. “All she gave be was her stupid cold.”

Aspen chuckled. “Well, that isn’t all she gave you.”

He looked towards Magnemite, who was playing Charmeleon. A few of the bigger dents were taken care of at the center, but it was still covered in scratches and chips.

“I guess so,” Fervia said, sniffling.

Aspen frowned, sipping from his own cup.

“Is something on your mind? You’ve been in a sour mood since the battle – even before you came down with a cold.”

Fervia looked into the campfire for a long time, then sighed.

“I thought I was gedding better. At battling, I bean. I thought I didn’d need you to come and save be anybore. It seems like every time something happens, you have to fix all of it. And it’s by fault.”

“Oh, Fervia…”

Aspen smiled.

“You are getting better. Just because you need help, or make a mistake, doesn’t change that. If Anortha hadn’t cheated, you most likely would have won that battle. But that’s why you must always be prepared.”

Aspen looked down at his tea, swirling it from side to side in his cup.

“Because some just don’t care to play fairly.”

“Aspen?”

Aspen looked up, smiling again.

“Let’s get some rest, shall we? Perhaps we can go to the hot springs tomorrow. That should help your cold.”

Fervia squinted, but her tiredness overcame her curiosity, and she was soon asleep in her sleeping bag. Aspen rolled over on his back, looking up at the stars as he slowly drifted off.

#ohnos fics #snz fic #snz commissions #snz #snz kink #snzblr #snz things #snezblr #snzario #snez kink #snz scenario #snezario #snzfucker #snzzzzz #snz blog #whump

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pokehorsegirl · 9 months

Text

———

[Attached: A ten second video of Paisley fleeing from something on one of her Pokémon’s backs. You can hear the sound of heavy footprints thumping on the ground trailing behind her.]

“Eeep-! Run Charming, run-!”

The camera catches a glimpse of something large and bulky with brown horns over her shoulder- right before her Rapidash seems to trip on something and stumbles forwards. Paisley yelps when she’s sent falling off of Charming’s back.

You lose sight of her for a moment when the camera tumbles across the grass a few feet away, landing right under the head of the thing that’d been chasing her. The goat-like creature gruffly snorts and sniffs at the phone, seeming getting ready to crush it before you hear the sound of furious hoof beats rushing in closer. Paisley’s attacker looks up just in time to get hit with what appears to be some Ice-type attack.

The creature cries out in surprise, before frantically retreating and leaving the phone behind. You see something pass over the camera after it leaves… is that a Rapidash covered in ice…? It quickly runs away before you can get a good look at it.

A few seconds later, you see Paisley run back to pick up her phone, panting heavily and covered in snow from her previous fall. She fumbles with the phone in her hands for a moment before turning the video off.]

———

#pkmn irl #pokeblogging #pokemon #pokemon irl #pokemon roleplay #pkmn rp #pokeblog rp #posts from paisley 💚#pokemon oc

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softquietsteadylove · 1 year

Note

Could you write their first meeting in the Pokémon AU? It would be super cool to read about that!!❤️

"Ralts!!"

"Sorry," Gil startled back at the sudden exclamation. He leaned over the bushes again, but the Ralts was already crouched down and holding the green 'helmet' of its head. They were very easily startled pokemon, but they were more prone to running away than just...sitting there.

"Hey, it's okay," Gil tried to soothe the little guy, bending down to him but at a safe distance away. "I'm sorry I scared you, buddy."

The Ralts continued to huddle over itself. It was waiting for...something.

"I didn't mean to," Gil said gently. "I'm a pokemon ranger. I was just checking the area. Are you lost?"

"Ralts," the little psychic type whimpered.

Gil pulled his pokegear out of the inside pocket of his vest. He wasn't due back quite yet.

"There you are!"

Gil looked up, finding a rather intimidating looking trainer glaring down at him. He gulped; she was beautiful.

"Who's this?" she asked the Ralts, rather than asking him directly.

"Ralts-Ralts!" the pokemon answered her, scurrying in between her legs and clinging to her white denim pants. She was dressed in white all over, actually; he would think she was an ice specialist if not for the Ralts at her feet.

"Ranger," she frowned at Gil again. Maybe she was one of those super intense competitive types.

"Uh, sorry," he apologised (for nothing). Maybe it would soothe her already riled temper? "I was going to offer to help him get back to whoever was waiting for him."

She looked down at her timid little pokemon and back to him. There was a coldness in her eyes that made it seem chillier than it really was. "Ralts is...shy."

Yeah, that was clear. Gil looked at the trembling little pokemon to the much more headstrong trainer standing over it. How in the world did they happen upon each other? Gil took his hat off and straightened up to look at her more properly. She was tall, but he was still taller than her.

"How did you end up catching him?" he asked in a friendly voice. His eyes drifted to her hip, where he could see only luxury balls on her belt. She seemed severe, but she obviously cared for her pokemon. Or maybe she was just rich.

"He just...fell right into me."

Gil blinked. But the female trainer leaned down and picked Ralts up, holding it in a surprisingly gentle way. Maybe she was just protective of her pokemon, and that was what made her come across as so frosty. She was far from a young, dumb trainer running around with nothing but a bike to their name, but it seemed so strange for her to only have this little Ralts with her.

"I moved regions recently," that explained the accent. "I was camping and this little thing just...tumbled right over and into my campsite."

"Ralts," it crossed its arms and looked up at her, like a child complaining of its parent telling an embarrassing story about it.

"He has to grow into his feet a little." She smiled--she finally smiled! It was a pretty smile.

It wasn't abnormally tall...yet. But she was right, the tracks Gil had followed had made him sure it was a different pokemon all together.

"Swablu?"

Gil blinked as the Cotton Bird pokemon peeked out from behind the trainer's ponytail. It nudged some of it away with its beak. "Oh, hello."

"Well, hello," she greeted the pokemon sitting in the hood of her jacket.

"Swa!" it cooed back at her, stretching out its fluffy wings.

A Ralts and a Swablu...and with the blonde of her hair - even lighter than a Ninetales' colour - they made kind of a funny picture.

"What?" she demanded as to what he was smiling about.

Gil shook his head, still smiling at her. "It's a nice team, you have. They obviously trust you a lot."

"Hm," she relaxed some, although he got the sense that it wasn't his praise that had earned her trust. Her eyes ran over him, "what about you?"

"Uh," he blushed faintly, gripping his hat tighter, "m-me?"

"You're a pokemon ranger," she raised a brow at him, tilting her head (Swablu moved to her other shoulder). "I know you're not about pokeballs, or whatever."

That was one way to put it, Gil supposed.

"But you really don't have any pokemon with you?"

Gil shrugged, not disclosing that even for a ranger, it was a little odd to not even have a partner pokemon, free roaming or otherwise. "Not...permanently."

"Are you..." she trailed off, still regarding him warily. She had every right, now that Gil thought of it; if she was new from another region, travelling alone, obviously beautiful--it probably wasn't easy for her to trust any old trainer she ran into. "Do you get lonely?"

Gil's back straightened. That certainly was a word for it.

"S-Sorry." Ralts tilted its head up to look at her, revealing its well hidden eyes. She patted his head, "I suppose you can tell I don't speak to people much anymore."

"That's okay," Gil smiled. She was actually...kind of sweet, under that hard outside. Like a pecha berry. "I get that question a lot, as a ranger."

"Is it safe for you to be patrolling alone, in any case?" she tilted her head at him.

"Well," it wasn't without its dangers, certainly, "for the most part. I'm heading back tot he ranger centre now, actually."

The trainer's eyes lit up.

Gil met her gaze, although she looked back down at Ralts. She was stubborn. "How long have you been camping out here?"

She tapped her finger against the tip of Ralts' red crest (making the little Feeling pokemon giggle). She was...embarrassed? "Until you reach a higher rank, the salary of a pro trainer...it isn't as glamorous as the league makes it look on television."

She was done with camping, clearly. Gil straightened up, slipping his hat back on. "Well, you're welcome to come with me. There's a pokemon centre, and we're fully equipped to handle travellers for however long they need to stay."

She debated it a little more before sliding closer. "I appreciate it. I...I'm Thena."

Thena; even her name was beautiful.

Gil tried to keep his smile contained to 'normal' and not 'some creep she met in the woods'. "I"m Gil."

"Well then," she cleared her throat, trying to resume the more lofty attitude with which he'd found her. But the contrast was kind of cute. "After you, Ranger Gil."

His heart flipped over in his chest. Technically he was barely more than a junior ranger--this was his first route he was allowed to patrol by himself, and he hadn't really found his place at the ranger centre here.

No one had called him Ranger Gil before.

"Uh, r-right!" he also cleared his throat. He pulled the brim of his hat down as he felt himself blush. "This way!"

"Swab!"

He laughed as Swablu took the liberty of perching himself on top of Gil's hat for the journey.

"Swablu, stop it!"

"It's okay," Gil assured her, letting the little bird settle down on his head. "I don't mind, really."

"Swablu!"

He heard Thena sigh from behind him. "Fine, but only because he's cute."

He knew she was talking about Swablu, but still, his blush worsened.

#Thenamesh Pokemon AU #the lore!!!!#I'm so glad someone asked for this #some things I had thought about before #like how she found Ralts before he evolved into Gallade #and some things I hadn't #like how they would have met when Gil was just starting out as a ranger #or about Thena being from a different region #I'm not saying it's Galar but...#she definitely had a Frosmoth and a Cursola at some point #that's all I'm saying #but she's a top trainer in Galar and she's a little bored #maybe her pokemon are tired of battling #so she lets them retire on a little ranch or something #or they stay with a relative #she would like to take them with her but they're content #also Galar has very strict customs for immigration/emigration #so she forfeits her possessions and moves with nothing but some camping gear to her name #she buys a few luxury balls because she believes that any pokemon can become the best if you treat it right #and then it's camping time just like when she was a young trainer #Gil gets her to the ranger centre and she practically cries when they show her the showers #she definitely stays there for a few days #and for stretches of time between battles and travelling #Gil brings her little snacks and stuff #that's when he learns that she really knows what she's doing #Ralts and Swablu have home blended pokechow #meanwhile...I think travelling Thena is like...feral #she spends all her money on care for those two and then she'll eat nothing but oran berries for a week straight #Gil is distraught

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agonyaster · 2 years

Text

The Bonds We Forge

Mai didn’t get along very well with Lord Kleavor’s previous warden, she can only hope things turn out better with the newest one

today i bring you lian and mai siblingisms. tomorrow? who knows

prefer ao3? read here!

…

Mai balances a basket of freshly-picked aguav berries on top of her head as she swiftly makes her way up the hill; Munchlax marches along beside her, thoroughly displeased with the fact that he hasn’t been given a single berry as a snack. When the basket wobbles he slows down a bit, eyes fixated on the berries nearest to the edge.

The pair crest over the top of the hill and Mai halts. One of the berries topples over the side and Munchlax dives for it, swallowing the berry alongside a mouthful of dirt, but he doesn’t seem to mind much. Mai pays him little attention, frowning as she eyes the figure in front of her cabin. Even from here she can see how their head swivels from side to side, a hand held over their eyes to protect them from the glare of the sun.

Continuing her climb, the figure drops their hand as they spy her, instead choosing to cross their arms across their chest.

“What came up?” Mai asks, raising a brow. “Has Gran gotten worse?”

“Nothing ‘came up,’ excuse you,” Adaman snips. He let his hair grow out; it curls just past his chin, the natural color of his roots peeking through on the dyed streak. “And Gran is fine, you don’t always have to assume the worst.”

Mai takes the basket from off of her head and props it on her hip. Another berry tumbles over the side and Munchlax is positioned perfectly to catch it: only having to look up and open his mouth. He chews with vigor as Mai shakes her head. “I don’t always assume the worst.”

“We’ll go with that.”

“Then why exactly are you here?” she asks, opening the door to the cabin and entering. Adaman and Munchlax follow, the pokémon cutting in front of Adaman and blowing a raspberry.

There’s still sunlight streaming in through the windows, but it weakens as the sun falls lower and lower in the sky. As Mai walks over to the counter, Adaman crouches down and busies himself with starting a fire.

“Do I really have to have a reason to come and visit my big sister?” he huffs, pulling the flint and steel from a small woven basket. He strikes them against one another a few times before actually getting a spark, and soon is hunched over trying to get it to catch.

“No, but you usually do.” Mai tucks the basket of berries away in a high cabinet, Munchlax groaning in protest. “Something about your time being more precious than anyone else's.”

“Hey! I never said that.”

“Not recently, anyway.”

Adaman scoffs and strikes the flint and steel once more, the spark finally catching. He leans down and blows on the flame gently, reaching into the basket and adding a few more sticks. It’s at a comfortable size before long and Adaman leaves it be, sending a glare over his sister. But his gaze soon begins to wander once he realizes that she isn’t paying attention.

He looks around for a few moments, thoroughly underwhelmed by it all. Racks of herbs hang out to dry over in the kitchen; canvases of embroidery and other various needlework are tacked up on the walls for display; a heavy chest sits in the corner, the one that Mai took with her when she first left the settlement to tend to Lord Wyrdeer. With a frown, Adaman stands and walks to the corner where her bedroll is, squatting down with a laugh as he inspects the line of tiny wooden dolls standing at attention.

“You still make these?” he asks as he picks up one of the figures. Running a thumb over its curled antenna, he examines the wooden Kricketot with mild intrigue. “You’re getting pretty good at it.”

Mai glances over her shoulder with a chuckle. “It’s a way to spend the less exciting moments. Comforting, in a way.” She shrugs and turns back to her work. “Took me a bit to learn how to do horns properly, but now Lord Wyrdeer and his children like it when I make replicas of them.”

“Really? Man, that’s weird.”

“You speak ill of our lord?” Mai asks with a devious smile that she hides behind a hand.

“Oh, shut it. You know what I meant.” Adaman places the figure back down and meanders back over to the fire, poking at the logs with a spare stick before relinquishing it to the flames. They crackle, satisfied. “And I don’t need a reason to be here, time with you is time well spent.”

“You really are a flatterer, you know that?”

“I’ve heard it now and again.”

Mai approaches with a tray in her arms and passes it off to Adaman, removing the kettle and placing it over the fire. “Will you be staying long enough for tea? Or should I just make enough for myself?”

“I’ll stick around for tea,” he inspects the jars and herbs laid out on the tray, picking out a few and tossing them into the kettle. “Probably not much after, but don’t say I never do anything for you.”

“Stay the night, it won’t kill you.” Licking her thumb, Mai tucks Adaman’s hair behind his ear before rubbing at the soot on his face. “Besides, I doubt you’ll be able to make it back to the settlement before sundown and I don’t want you wandering out there all alone.”

Adaman groans and pulls away from her but Mai gives chase, glaring at the smudge. “I won’t be alone, I have Leafeon.”

“In the dark, then. I don’t want you wandering out there in the dark.”

“You can just say you want me to stay, Mai.”

“I did. Maybe you should just pay attention a bit more.”

Adaman turns away from her, but Mai can see his embarrassment as it stains the tips of his ears red. It’s a quirk he’s always seemed to hate, and she remembers how he would clamp his hands over his ears when Melli was old enough to talk and started teasing him about it.

She stands with a sigh and snags the tray of teas from her brother, heading back for the kitchen and tucking it away. “Feel free to go if you really want to, but I’ll be making dinner and heading up the cliff to watch the sunset. And you know how Munchlax is when left alone with food, so make your decision quickly.”

“I could take Lord Wyrdeer home,” Adaman mumbles, not bothering to listen to a word she’s said.

“He wouldn’t bother with you unless you played the melody right; you and I both know that’s impossible.”

Adaman crosses his arms, huffing.

He makes it up to her when they’re climbing even farther up the hill, taking the tray laden with their food and cups while Mai handles the teapot. Even Munchlax helps, chasing away any pokémon that are drawn in by the scent of their dinner.

The two settle onto a flat plain of grass right at the top of the mountain after Munchlax chases a small flock of Starly away from the berries they were snacking on. While he stuffs his face with the leftovers, Mai pours a cup of tea for herself and Adaman. It’s not like the stuff she grew up on; the fieldlands don’t have the proper ingredients for it. Not really worth the hassle to try and get someone who still lives at the settlement to bring her any of the good stuff.

“How is Calens doing?” she asks.

“She’s good.” Adaman takes a drink and pulls a face that Mai can help but snort at. “Got way too tall— damn kid is growing like a weed.”

“You were the same way.”

“But that’s different!” he protests, to no real response from Mai. Adaman worries a lip between his teeth, brows pinched together as he contemplates and before too long, he loses his mental battle and gives in. “And… There is actually a reason I came.”

Mai blows on her tea. “Aside from visiting your poor sister? You wound me, Adaman.”

He scowls. “Do you want to hear or not?”

“Considering it was so important that you felt the need to come all the way to the fieldlands… sure. I’ll hear you out.”

Adaman downs the rest of his tea, placing the cup upside down on the tray. “The Pearl Clan has selected a new warden for Lord Kleavor, apparently,” he says.

“Apparently?”

A single-shouldered shrug. “I don’t know anything definitively. It’s just rumors.”

His offhandedness sours Mai’s mood more than she thought it would. “A rumor? So you haven’t actually talked to anyone from the Pearl Clan?” It’s not a question: instead an accusation.

“And why should I have to? It’s their job to come to me as the leader of the Diamond Clan and tell me what they’re —”

“Almighty Sinnoh, would you pull your head out of your ass, Adaman? You are the clan leader now, it is your job to take initiative when it comes to matters like these,” Mai says, voice biting. “And don’t you dare spew shit about how your father ran the clan. You are not him. You will never be him. So don’t try and rule like he did.”

His hands fist in the grass, severing the blades’ connection to the earth as his nails dig into his palms. “You don’t get to talk to me like that.”

“Why not? No one else is going to say it.” Mai takes another drink of tea, gaze steady as she watches the horizon. She can feel Adaman’s eyes burning into the side of her skull. “You should’ve buried those expectations alongside his body.”

He’s silent for some time after that. When Mai finishes her tea and pours herself another cup, she can no longer feel his glare. Munchlax tottles over from a berry tree and flips Adaman’s discarded cup, clumsily pouring tea for himself.

“I hate when you’re right.” Adaman’s voice is muffled as he speaks into his knees, which are tucked up into his chest.

Mai smiles into her cup. “So, always?”

Adaman punches her in the shoulder. She snickers as he does it again and again, weaker with every strike. Eventually he stops, laying spread eagle in the grass and looking up at the stars.

Mai hums. “Kleavor’s getting a new warden. Huh.”

“It was bound to happen.” Adaman rips a fistful of grass from out of the earth and raises his arm up. Loosening the clench of his fist, the blades slip between his fingers and sprinkle back down. “Last one’s been gone for how many months?”

“I know that you dolt, I just… I’m not sure what it is, actually. Maybe it’s just setting in that she’s gone. I mean, she’s not dead or anything—”

Adaman swats at her leg. “Don’t worry, I get it.”

“Won’t miss her too much though, lady was a real nasty piece of work. Hope the next one is better.”

“I doubt it. They’re Pearl Clan, Mai.”

She almost speaks out, but that’s not a battle she needs to be waging today. “Thanks for telling me. I’ll keep an eye out.”

They do little for the rest of the night, watching the sun disappear behind the horizon line as they finish up the tea and the rest of the food. Munchlax polishes off the rest of the bowl, burping with a satisfied sigh as he settles down into Mai’s lap.

Adaman does end up staying the night and his snoring nearly brings down the cabin. Munchlax gets so fed up with it that he stomps out of the house and sleeps outside. Still, it’s the best sleep she’s gotten since leaving the settlement.

He’s halfway out the door when she wakes the next morning, so Mai scowls and crawls out of bed and walks him through the entirety of the fieldlands in her pajamas. She doesn’t regret it until her way back, a mix of sweat and humidity keeping her clothes suctioned to her skin.

After that she goes about her days as usual, spending most of them in Lord Wyrdeer’s favorite grotto as he tends to the newborn Stantler. Twins this year; a sign of good fortune. And not that she’d ever tell him, but they’re cuter than Adaman ever was when he was a baby. She fetches food and water for the lord and the new mother, both unwilling to leave the baby Stantler. Soon the little ones are beginning to take their first steps, legs shaking as they stagger forward a few paces before collapsing to the ground.

More than anything else Mai spends her time entertaining the older Stantler, who want nothing more than to play with their new siblings. Well, some of them want to play. Some of the more ornery ones just want to fight, and whenever they’re not eating or sleeping, or trying to snag the newborns, those Stantler are wrestling with each other.

The worst three aren’t particularly happy that Mai’s stopping them and take it upon themselves to try and chase her out— she almost considers sending word back to the clan asking for a healer with how many times she ends up getting hit with their psychic attacks and subsequently walking herself into a tree. But then they get into a battle that ends when all three sets of antlers get knotted together and the Stantler crying out for help pitifully.

After she saves them, all three disappear into the woods for a good few days. When they come back they’ve lost most of their motivation to try to scare her off. Thank Sinnoh— she isn’t sure how much more her head could take.

Mai trots downhill and towards the river, an empty bucket tucked under each arm. Munchlax stayed back at the cabin for a nap, so she makes the journey alone as clouds roll lazily across the sky. There’s a close call with one of the Geodude that hangs out near the Deertrack Heights, but nothing comes of it and Mai makes it to the bank of the river with little more trouble.

Being sure to stay out of sight from the Buizels rolling around in the sand, she places her buckets down and moves to fill one, but pauses before she dips it in.

There’s a young boy crouched down by the bank of the river, washing berries in the slow-moving current. He’s Pearl Clan, with a hat almost too big for his head, cheeks still plump with baby fat and ruddy with youth. A pickaxe sits next to him, perfectly sized for such a small boy.

Worry lines crease her forehead as Mai watches the boy. What on earth was someone so young doing all the way down here? She’s never been to the Pearl Clan’s settlement up in the icelands, not really important enough to ever merit the journey or the discourse, but she knows it's far. Really far. How long would it have taken someone so young to get down to the fieldlands?

Squinting, she leans forward and tries to inspect the boy closer. He doesn’t… seem particularly tired, but there’s no telling when exactly he would’ve shown up, not as if Mai hasn’t been keeping to herself lately.

“Are you alright?” she finally asks. Her voice carries across the sound of the river, heavy with worry, each syllable low and cautious.

The boy’s head snaps up at the sound of her voice and his hand goes straight for the pickaxe. He looks at her like she’s something stuck to the bottom of his shoe or that a Glameow hacked up on the carpet.

“I don’t see why I wouldn’t be.” He has that Pearl Clan accent all the officials that visit the Diamond settlement do, harsher on the N’s than she’s used to. His hand stays on the pickaxe.

Mai keeps her gaze away from the weapon, instead choosing to look the boy in the eyes. They’re wild, like a feral Luxio about to strike. “You’re just really far from the Pearl settlement, is all. How did you wind up all the way out here?”

Immediately his face blooms bright red and his nostrils flare. “I— how dare you!” he spits, voice trembling. He puffs out his chest and puts his hands on his hips, standing the slightest bit taller as he glares at Mai.

It’s only then, of course, that she sees the band around his wrist. The dark polish of the wood, the gold detailing, the precisely-carved visage of Lord Kleavor. All of it points to one thing alone and Almighty Sinnoh, could this have gone worse? Well, probably. No need to jinx it, come on now.

“I apologize, Warden, I meant no insult to you or to your clan.” Mai bows her head, the back of her neck burning in the harsh midday sun. “I’d been informed that Lord Kleavor was getting a new warden, but I didn’t realize it would be so soon.”

When she looks up the boy has crossed his arms over his chest, his mouth pressed into a harsh scowl. He says nothing.

Well, no need to lose her manners. “My name is Mai, and it has been my duty to tend to—”

“Lord Wyrdeer, I know. Why wouldn’t I know that?” he’s still angry, albeit less so than before. The red on his cheeks is starting to fade away as well, and he adjusts his hat to keep it from falling over his eyes. “Of course I know that.”

“Again, I apologize for my mistake. I hope we can learn to work together in the future.”

“Goodbye, Warden Mai,” the boy spits as he turns on his heel and stomps away, clearly not interested in anything she might have to say.

Mai shakes her head as she watches him leave, and can’t help but be a little disappointed. This sort of behavior is something she should’ve expected, but that doesn’t mean it stings any less. Her father used to say it was a fact of the world: the sun rose in the east and set in the west; the moon had its phases; and the Diamond Clan will always hate the Pearl Clan.

But Almighty, he’s just a kid! Around Calens’ age from the look of him, maybe a little bit older. Why would the Pearl Clan pick someone so young? Was he really the best they had? In the Diamond Clan, candidates for the next generation of wardens were chosen young, but never that young. And they didn’t even begin their intensive training until well after Lian’s age.

Mai shakes her head, trying not to think too hard about her newest neighbor as she fills the buckets with water and starts making her way back up to the grove.

Over the course of the next few weeks the new baby Stantler are up and about, joining their mother and siblings out for walks across Horseshoe Plains. Mai sees them prancing around with some of the Ponyta, bounding over the shallow pools of water as their mothers watch on fondly. Lord Wyrdeer is back on his hooves as well: she spies him leaving Deertrack Heights with a herd of Stantler just before the sun rises, the group returning at sundown the following day, all of the Stantler completely exhausted. It’s nice to see him teaching the little ones who’s in charge.

As she returns to her normal duties, Mai can’t help but notice the little traces the other warden ends up leaving behind. A few wet footprints leading away from Oreburrow Tunnel, neat lines sliced into the bark of trees around The Heartwood; small things that she doesn’t notice until she starts to keep an eye out for them.

Mai adjusts the hatchet where it’s strapped to her belt as she trudges along the outskirts of The Heartwood. She never likes staying here for long: too close to Lord Kleavor’s proper dwelling for her tastes, but with all the firewood weighing her down it would be stupid to try and go one of the more treacherous paths. So instead she hugs the treeline and marches forward slow enough that the few Psyduck milling about the area don’t bother her.

She’s only made it about halfway to the bridge when she hears it: the incessant buzzing of a swarm of Combee. Not so unusual, except that there’s no reason for them to be swarming. Even at the peak of pollination season back in the mirelands they only moved places two or three at a time— the only time Mai’s seen a whole hive of Combee start to swarm is when a new Vespiquen is made.

Well, that and when they’re angry. Mai’s known for a long time that not all buzzing is created equal. She can still remember the unbearable throbbing, aching, itching pain across her entire body when she got attacked as a child after sneaking out with Adaman to the Droning Meadow. She also remembers the lecture she got from the clan healer as she rubbed a sticky salve on Mai’s wounds. And the way Adaman’s father berated her for putting him in danger like that before his rage faded away and his voice went quiet as he thanked her for keeping Adaman safe.

Instinct tells her to drop the firewood and get out of there as fast as she can before the swarm even has a chance to find her. The buzzing is getting louder: they’re roaming the forest, hunting. But something else stops her, a nagging voice in the back of her head that keeps her feet planted firmly to the earth. What made them so mad? it asks.

All of the pokémon found in The Heartwood are perfectly happy with the discarded honeycomb that litters the forest floor, if they want any at all. But humans? A warden, preparing a meal for their lord? Stale leftovers wouldn’t do.

With little more deliberation, Mai turns and plunges into the forest. She pulls the hatchet from her belt and hacks away at some of the thickest parts of the underbrush as she moves through the trees. The sound of buzzing fades in and out, more pokémon starting to emerge from their hidey-holes as the swarm moves on.

Mai only finds what she’s looking for because a Buneary finds it first: hops right up to a nearby bush and sniffs at it curiously. Something rustles within it, shooing the little thing off, and the Buneary squeaks in alarm, disappearing into the forest.

“Warden?” she approaches slowly, stooping low to the ground as she does, only now realizing she never learned the boy’s name. “The Combee are gone, you can come out.”

She almost thinks its a pokémon in there until a cautious voice responds

“How far?”

“They’re down by that little island just north of here, where all the Psyduck like to play.”

“You’re sure?”

She takes a moment to look around. “I’m sure.”

With some fierce rustling, the young warden begins to emerge from the thicket. It takes a few seconds— kid’s tucked himself away pretty damn well— but when he pops out the warden yanks a few twigs out of his hair and places his hat back on with a huff. he tries to play it off but Almighty Sinnoh, poor kid is covered in welts. Bright, angry splotches of color are all over his face, run up and down his arms.

“Don’t look at me like that!” he barks, glaring up at Mai with as much defiance he can muster. He tugs down his sleeves, hiding those stings from view. “I don’t need your help!”

He stomps past her, but Mai reaches out and snags his arm before she can really think about it. “I’m not going to let you leave and let those fester. You’ll get sick.”

“You sound just like Calaba. I’m fine!” he insists.

Mai doesn’t see why that’s such a bad thing. Warden Calaba has lived in the mirelands tending to Lord Ursaluna for longer than Mai’s been alive. Every reckless child of the Diamond Clan has been tended to by her at some point, too far away from the settlement to meet with their actual healer. But aside from that, for some reason she can’t help but notice how he says Calaba’s name— the syllables rapid-fire one after the other, melding together as they roll off the tongue. Mai doesn’t think she could replicate it if she tried.

“I know Warden Calaba and she is a perfectly respectable woman.”

“She’s an old coot, that’s what she is.”

“You should respect your elders.”

“I’ll start respectin’ em when they finally have something respectable to say.”

With a shake of the head Mai adjusts her grip on the young warden’s arm and starts to walk through the forest, dragging him along with her. He fights it at first but gives up before long, resigned to his fate.

“You never told me your name, warden,” Mai says as she reaches to the pouches at her waist, fishing out a few dried herbs and a small mortar.

“What? No, I did. You forgot,” he blusters. “I definitely did!”

Mai turns her back to him as she fills the mortar with a small amount of water, but it does good to hide her smile as well. There’s something so charming about his stubbornness, how his nose scrunches up in distaste. At the very least, it seems to be the best for her to play along. No need to make things worse than they already are.

“I apologize for my forgetfulness. How about we redo introductions?” She sprinkles a few different herbs into the bowl. “Warden Mai, of the Diamond Clan.”

Silence for a few moments. “Warden Lian of the Pearl Clan.”

She tries her best to mimic the way he says it with a longer ‘e’ sound in the middle. Lian shakes his head and she tries a few more times before he’s satisfied, fudding and sitting down on a rock as he tells her it’ll do.

“Did you never learn how to make a salve for Combee stings?” she asks as she adds slices of pecha to the mixture, popping the leftovers into her mouth and offering one to Lian.

“We don’t have them in the icelands,” he explains, nibbling at the slice of berry. “I never needed to.”

Picking up her hatchet, Mai uses the butt end of the handle to start grinding the mixture into a paste. “Did the previous warden not teach you? Seems like something that should fall under her jurisdiction.”

“Of course not!” Lian scoffs. “She’s older than dirt and dumber than a box of rocks.”

With a reluctant shrug, Mai finds herself agreeing. Turning back to the salve, she works it over as soft peaks soon begin to form in the salve. Dipping two of her fingers into it, she turns to Lian expectantly. Sighing, he takes off his hat and hugs it to his chest.

His face scrunches up as she begins to apply the salve to the stings on his cheeks, nose wrinkling at the smell. Once she’s done there, Mai has Lian roll up his sleeves and she’s sure to coat those stings as well.

“It’ll help with the itching and swelling,” she explains as she goes for a second pass on his face, doing a few touch ups on his cheeks with the leftovers. “You should be okay in a few days, but if it does start acting up just smear some mud on them. Works pretty well too.”

“Okay.” Lian tugs his hat back on and then pulls his sleeves back down, being careful not to disturb any of the salve. “Thanks, Warden Mai. Do ya want help leaving the forest?”

With a nod and a smile, he begins to lead her through The Heartwood. And to his credit, Lian does seem to know what he’s doing and where he’s going, getting her to the edge of the trees in record time.

The two part ways, Mai heading for Tidewater Dam as Lian ducks back into the forest and is quickly consumed by the shrubbery. She heads back home to be greeted by Munchlax, who’s increasingly frustrated at the fact she didn’t leave any food for him within arms reach. Still, he seems to forget all about it when she reaches down and scratches between his ears.

Surprisingly, Mai doesn’t have to wait long to see Lian again— it only takes a day, in fact.

She finds him between Nature’s Pantry and Windswept run, perched at the peak of the highest hill in the area. One of Lord Wydeer’s children finds him first, and prances around Lian joyously as Mai hikes up to join them.

“What brings you all the way out here?” she asks, raising a hand to shield her eyes from the sun.

Lian has no response, hunched over something as he dutifully scratches away at it. Curiosity gets the better of her and Mai peeks over his shoulder, stealing a glance.

It’s a map. Half-finished, sure, but clearly a map of the Obsidian Fieldlands. Right now he’s carving out the base shape of Ramanas Island, pausing every few moments to glance back out at it in the distance. Raising his left hand, he stacks three of his fingers against the horizon before humming and making a few more marks to the map.

More than anything, Mai’s just surprised at how good the map is. Even as it is now, it looks a hell of a lot more useful than any of the old things she was given when she first left for the fieldlands.

“You can make maps?” she asks. Finally it draws something out of him, a nod.

“Most in the clan can.”

Mai’s brows draw up, a little confused and a little intrigued. Being a cartographer is hard, there’s only ever the master and maybe an apprentice if the master was getting up there in age.

“Really?”

“We kinda have to. Everythin’ looks the same once you go far enough north. ‘n if the weather gets really bad you really can’t tell the difference. So we make up for it by havin’ good maps that everyone can read and add to. Not that hard to understand.”

“I guess that makes sense.”

She doesn’t know how long it is, but Mai just sits and watches him work for a while. Every now and then she asks a question— why does he keep doing that thing with his fingers, what was the reason for having just so many different tools and trinkets— but for the most part she’s just content to sit and watch. Lian doesn’t seem to mind all that much and keeps scratching away at the paper.

But then he finishes up as much of the island that he can and starts to pack up. The graphite stick and all the other tools are tucked away into one of the pouches at his waist, the map itself rolled up tight and gingerly placed into a cylindrical case that he corks shut and slings over his shoulder.

“I get to ask some questions now.”

“Hm?”

“I told you about cartography, now you have to tell me about something. It’s only fair.”

“Well there's a lot to pick from. Just depends on what you want to know.”

Without hesitation, Lian points to her shoulder. “That.”

A little confused, Mai glances down at herself. “Oh, the embroidery?”

He nods and pokes the snout of the Ursaring on the shoulder of her tunic. “Yeah.”

With a gleam in her eye, the pair start to move across the fieldlands as Mai goes about explaining the different knots and stitches and the meanings of every symbol or pokémon carefully sewn into her clothing.

After that, they stop pretending it’s just happenstance that brings them together. They meet up at least twice a week, usually more, to talk and to teach and to learn. She starts to draw maps with Lian’s supervision, his dark eyes intense as he watches her ink the coastline along Horseshoe Plains. Mai spends a whole day on it, and at the end when she passes the map off to Lian for a proper grading, he barely gives it a second glance as he crumples it up and feeds it to Munchlax.

She’s more than ticked off and in the following days when he has her draw it over and over, disposing of the finished product every time. But after a week or so, Mai can’t help but notice how she’s getting faster, even when Lian tells her to map out somewhere else.

They take a break from cartography for a bit so she can teach him embroidery. Lian picks it up pretty quickly but he tends to ramble when he sews. It’s usually about mining and it makes him stick his fingers with the needle more often than not, but Lian doesn’t really seem to care. He just sucks the blood away from whichever finger was the latest casualty and keeps on talking.

When he finishes his first piece, a quaint little thing of a sleeping Swinub, he gives her a stone in thanks. It’s a deep orange and slightly warm to the touch, and she keeps it snug and safe inside her trunk back at the cabin.

When a storm brings down a tree limb not too far from their usual meeting spot, the two spend the day whittling together. Lian’s a little less experienced but makes a few misshapen baby Scyther just fine, quickly learning how to hold the blade just right and scrape away at the wood. As Mai carves out the shape of an Ursaring’s paw he starts to talk about his life back in the icelands.

The conversation ebbs and flows and Mai finds herself telling a few stories of her own, Lian howling with laughter when she tells him about Adaman’s pitiful flute skills and how they made Leafeon run away for two days. When it’s his turn to tell stories, Lian mentions his mother in most of them. Mai can’t help but picture her as a woman with a wide grin and wild hair, laughing raucously as she fishes her young son out of a snowbank.

Over the course of a few days he slowly whittles a Goodra figure for his mother— she’s managed to tame one, apparently. And though she's never seen one before, Mai can't help but wonder if they really look like that.

On one of their days together they both lose track of time, hunched over their respective projects and not bothering to look up until it's completely dark out. Refusing to let him go all the way back to The Heartwood alone, Mai makes a quick curry for the both of them and sets out another bedroll. Lian inhales the food, sputtering slightly at the foreign taste before thanking her and heading off to bed.

He curls up into a tight ball when he sleeps, forming a bit of a cocoon out of the blankets as he twists around. She supposes it makes sense: something about preserving heat. Doesn’t make it any less adorable.

A week after that, Munchlax decides to wander off while Mai is busy chopping firewood. He wanders so far that she doesn’t find him anywhere in or around the cabin, or even anywhere near the Deertrack Heights. Even Lord Wyrdeer seems at a loss for answers.

She’s wandering the woods calling out for Munchlax with a hoarse voice when Lian finds her. He snatches her by the hand and leads her into a thicket, where he pauses just before a Combee hive— a massive one. Lian marches up to the hive and sticks his hand straight into it, the Combee buzzing around amicably as he yanks it back out. His fist is wrapped tight around a chunk of honeycomb dripping with the sweet golden liquid. Moving a few paces, he slathers the trunk of a nearby tree with as much honey as he can before breaking the piece of comb in half and offering one side to Mai.

She accepts and they eat as Lian takes them back through the woods. It’s got a tangy sweet taste, sharper than she expected. The chewy texture and mild waxy flavor of the comb only adds to the experience, and before she knows it Mai’s scarfed down the entire thing. Lian finishes just after she does and the two make a quick pit stop to wash their hands off in a stream that creeps its way through The Heartwood.

He cooks for the two of them that night, a stew with a flavor that tickles the back of her throat, and he promises that Munchlax would be home first thing in the morning.

And sure enough, when they stop by the honey tree the next day and Lian gives it a harsh shake— Munchlax tumbles from the branches, landing right at Mai’s feet.

Things are good. Or well, they’re good until someone from the Pearl Clan comes to visit. It’s not someone Mai recognizes, and despite his hostility, she tries her best to be cordial.

The man takes Lian with him, and despite the fact that he’s gone for only two days, things are… different when he comes back. He doesn’t come to their meets any longer, turns the other way when the two run into each other. When Mai actively starts to seek him out she nearly gets her head blasted off by his new, erm, friend.

Turns out Lian wasn’t exaggerating when he described Goodra to her. Almighty Sinnoh, the thing is massive and it glares down at her more often than not. It usually ends up wedging itself between her and Lian, firing off a warning shot before turning around and thundering off into the forest, Lian often not far behind it.

But from what little she does actually see of him, not much about Lian has changed except his attitude. Well, that and his hat. Before it was just plain white; a little dirty, sure, but every part of Lian was a little dirty. Now, a large greenish-blue gem is affixed to it, secured with a thick golden chain and clasp.

The sight of it makes something in her stomach roll a little. It’s obviously valuable, something a little too valuable to entrust to someone so young without good reason.

Mai’s curled up by the fire, careful not to tangle her thread as she adds speckles of stars to the sky. The storm outside is so loud that she can hardly hear herself think, so she doesn’t know how she hears it. Maybe it’s the repetition, maybe it’s the growing feeling of unease in her gut that compels her.

No matter what it is, Mai sets her work aside and walks to the door. After a moment of hesitation she undoes the latch and opens the door the slightest crack to peer out into the inky blackness.

Lightning flashes, illuminating the petite figure stood at the stoop of the cabin.

“Almighty— what the hell are you doing?” Mai demands, shoving the door open the rest of the way and ushering Lian inside.

He mumbles something that might be an apology as she slams the door shut, pressing her whole body against it to make sure it stays that way. Lian just stands in the entryway awkwardly, head bowed as his clothes drip water onto the floor. Poor kid is shaking like a leaf, and be it from cold or from fear Mai doesn’t really care.

Her body moves faster than her mind does, placing a gentle hand on his back and guiding him to sit down by the fire. She yanks off his waterlogged boots and tosses them vaguely towards the front of the cabin, standing up and fetching a change of clothes from her own stores. Lian hardly seems to notice: staring directly into the flames, watches as they lick at the logs and slowly begin to consume the wood.

Mai pulls the kettle off of the fire and takes it with her over towards the kitchen, where she scrambles to put together a tea. Mind moving faster than her hands, Mai scrambles to come up with any reason he might be here. The Hippowdon in the room is still there, lying untouched as Mai dances around the idea. She can’t ask, not now. Even once the tea is steeped and she loads it all onto a tray to bring back, she has no better ideas.

She half expected Lian to refuse the Diamond Clan tunic, but she supposes even the proudest will crumble when freezing. It’s one of her older, smaller tunics; yet it still dwarfs him, the fabric nearly swallowing him whole.

Mai approaches slowly, setting the tray down as she sits next to Lian. Turning to look at him, she finally notices the tears that leak out of his eyes as he stares into the fire. As if he can feel her gaze on him, Lian pulls his attention away from the flames and over to Mai.

When they lock eyes, the floodgates open.

Fat tears roll down his cheeks and the entire cabin is filled with the sound of Lian’s wailing— his breath hitches and staggers as he curls in on himself, shaking violently.

Before she can think on it too hard Mai’s pulling Lian in close, running a hand through his hair and shushing him quietly. He buries his face in her shoulder and screams even louder, a mix of tears and snot and spit soaking the front of her tunic. His words are nothing but strings of meaningless babbling, but if she strains Mai can make out something that she recognizes. It’s in the tongue of the Pearl Clan, a word that he taught her, back when they whittled their first figures together. Mother.

Mai hates that she was right.

She holds him even tighter, begins to rock back and forth as she sings a lullaby from her own childhood into his hair. From there, ever so slowly, Lian loses his fire. It seeps out of him like the gentlest trickle of water through a dam until he’s cried himself to sleep.

#mai #warden mai #warden lian #lian #lian pokemon #mai pokemon #adaman #writing #pla #pokemon legends arceus #pokemon #got this out on my birthday and then forgor to post here #whoopsies #twirls my hair #hellooooooo pla fans

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meistoshi · 1 year

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the jitters are lesser today, but it's still difficult to differentiate the buzzing beneath his skin as coming from pikachu or being his own flurry of excitement & anxiety. breathe in. breathe out.

satoshi's name is called.

let's go again.

this time, he simply stops at the trainer's box. as does kyo. satoshi & pikachu give twin bows, hands & paws put together accordingly, & they both grin as the elite mirrors them in answer. satoshi knows the other has returned the grin as well even before the mask covering his lower face is tugged down.

❛ last we battled you were but a league - hopeful, yet you defeated me well. verily, this is a rematch many years in the making. ❜

❛ yeah. here's hoping there's no interruptions this time around. ❜

a nod, & satoshi knows kyo was thinking the exact same thing. he doesn't know if the rocket gang quartet have followed him to this league, but even if they're simply watching from somewhere, he likes to think they catch the inside joke.

the call is made for the trainers to release their pokémon.

they maintain eye - contact of acknowledgement as they release pigeot & morphon.

gods, he loves rematches.

there is no face - off rematch between crobat & lizardon, though the latter gets his chance at the battle, something that only shows that satoshi's not the only one that's learned since back then. that's just fine. it's the end of the match that truly matters.

fukamaru's hanging in there, the last battle whether it's win or lose, standing off against the equally hurt crobat. the nasty thing there is that crobat has the flying advantage. satoshi's been attempting to cover that base utilizing fukamaru's jaw strength & similar size, but he's running out of ideas on how to ground the flying type. still, they're hanging in there.

the crobat swoops in yet again, a taunt right past fukamaru's teeth, second pair of wings inflicting cross poison as it passes.

❛ fukamaru !! shake it off !! just a little more ... !! ❜

the poison attacks have started piling up. semi - potent or not, they've been chipping away at fukamaru. damn.

the crobat's swooping in for another attack, & fukamaru just barely reacts to satoshi's call for it to get out of dodge, & it does so with a tumble forwards. it'd be cute if they weren't in the middle of one of the most important battles of satoshi's life.

& then ... there's a glow. the trainer almost thinks fukamaru's decided on a move without him, but no, no, that's ... oh. oh !!

❛ competitor satoshi's fukamaru has evolved into gabite !! ❜

& just like that, the concern on his face is replaced with astonished glee, & he sees it mirrored as fu — as gabite shakes out its now - much - broader wingspan, & its head, before turning to its trainer with its still - toothy - as - ever maw.

their opponent gives little time to celebrate, however, crobat diving in with fly. the word " dodge " barely escapes satoshi when gabite, with its newfound extra speed, not only jumps, landing atop the zipping crobat & sending it smacking into the ground below with a spring off its back ... but also glides away, no, flies away.

oh ...

the champion's grin turns sharp.

alright. time to end this.

❛ gabite !! sandstorm !! ❜ is the call given, & specks of sand begin rising in gradually growing whirls as gabite beats its sorta - wings & gathers a storm in the field. ❛ let's test out how fast you've gotten ; time to get lost !! ❜

it's hard to pick up movement from the edges of the storm, & he has to squint & put up an arm along the cover of his cap to not get sand & dust in his eyes, but that means the same is true for kyo, & it's even harder for the pokémon within. more so for crobat. satoshi's always prided himself on shifting turf advantages.

what he does next, he's done hundreds of times without even realizing, except, well, on purpose this time around. he reaches out some of that aura - sense, grazes that resonance that's always been present in his battles but took lucario coming into his life to realize. he can approximately pinpoint where gabite is zig - zagging, but the crobat ... where is it ... where is it ...

gotcha.

❛ now !! ❜

& he more feels than sees as gabite swoops in from above & behind crobat, move charging in a closed maw until the last moment before —

a dragon pulse, point blank, fires in the side of the sandstorm, sending crobat zipping & crashing into the wall behind kyo. as the storm settles down, gabite landing slightly off - balance but determined ...

the referee looks over the crobat. a flag is raised. ❛ crobat is unable to battle !! thus, the winner of this match is competitor satoshi !! ❜

there's a split second before the crowd erupts into cheering. there's a few more split seconds before the noise catches up with satoshi, or rather his brain with the noise, & like clockwork he & pikachu & gabite start racing to meet in the middle with excited shouting ( or pikachu - ing or roaring, depending on the runner ) . the larger of the three nearly knock each other over with the impact, pikachu easily taking up a spot on gabite's head in celebratory pikas.

❛ you did it, gabite !! & you evolved !! that's amazing !! you're amazing !! you're — biting my head again, cut that out !! ❜ even as satoshi pushes at the gabite's jaw, his voice is full of laughter & light. well, some things have to stay the same, don't they ??

two more to go.

he can't wait to see what surprises the next battle brings.

#meistoshi tv would like to apologize for the delayed episode--#skfjghsfk the first part of this has been sitting in my drafts since uh. april. oops.#eh the whole weekends thing was more of a suggestion to myself than a hard guide so. anyway yipee things happened!!!#including smth ive wanted to have happen for quite a bit :)#ic.#the story so far.#event. onto indigo horizons.

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zorua-adorable · 2 years

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Hisui Does Not Have Enough Money to Deal with This Child's Impatience

Barry Arrives in Hisui

Okay, I wrote this in about two hours instead of sleeping, because I just had to after getting the thought in my head. Someone on a discord server mentioned Barry, and I brought up my AU, and we were coming up with ideas, and it all went from there.

This series will be a collection of connected one-shots, so don't be surprised if we jump around in the plot.

Anyway, I hope you enjoy! (Also, this was unbeta'd, so let me know if you spot any grammatical errors.)

Word Count: 1081

When Barry opened his eyes, he very quickly noticed that he was not in the Pokémon Center bed he went to bed in last night. Instead, he was in some sort of… void.

“Where am I? How did I get here?” Barry asked, as he went to adjust his bag strap, only to find it wasn’t there.

“Hey, where’s my bag? Where are my Pokémon? WHERE’S MY SCARF?!”

It was at this moment that Barry noticed the large glowing light also there in the void. He was honestly surprised he didn’t notice it sooner.

‘Young Barry.’ It… spoke? At the very least, the words reverberated through his mind.

“Hey! Who are you? Where am I? How did I get here?”

‘I am the one humans refer to as Arceus. We are in a realm beyond the flow of time and the expanse of space. I brought you here as I have a task for thou to complete.’

“Uuuh… could it wait? I was actually planning to challenge the Battle Tower tomorrow.” Barry responded to Arceus. ‘Why does that name sound familiar? I think Dawn or Lucas mentioned that name once? Man, I should’ve focused more during their ramblings; they always focus on mine.’

‘It will still be there once you complete thine mission.’ Arceus’ glowiness got even glowier, and somehow pulled Barry’s Pokétch (‘Huh, didn’t notice I had that on me.’) off his wrist and toward itself. Despite floating, Barry felt like he was falling. As he reached out to grab his Pokétch (‘It looks kinda different now?’) so he didn’t lose it, the last thing Barry heard was:

‘Seek out all Pokémon, and thou shalt find me once more.’

~~~~~

Professor Laventon tried to catch his breath as he ran after the three Pokémon he brought to Hisui from other regions, wondering what had them in such a rush. As he approached Prelude Beach, he noticed something – or rather, SOMEONE – falling from the sky. They miraculously landed upon the shores, without being injured to boot! When he got closer, he noticed the rift-fallen was a young male with blond hair (‘What even is that hairstyle? Extreme bedhead?’) and clad in strange looking clothes: gray pants and a long-sleeved shirt with orange and white stripes. He started to awaken as the professor got closer, and then stood up.

“You gave me quite the shock, falling from the sky like that… But thank goodness, you seem unharmed!”

“Yeah, but who are you? And where am I?” he asked. ‘My dear, he seems to be naturally quite loud.’

“Well, my name is Laventon. I am something of a Pokémon Professor. And this is Prelude Beach. May I ask who you are?”

“I’m Barry from Twinleaf Town.”

“Hmmm, I can’t say I’ve heard of that town before. What region is it in?”

“Oh, it’s in–! It’s, it’s in… where is it again?” Barry asked himself, not at the proper volume to be considered muttering.

“Oh dear. I’m presuming this means you do not have an acquaintance in these parts?”

“Yeah, I seriously doubt that–” Barry said, only for his attention to switch to my cumbersome little companions “–ooooh! And what kinds of Pokémon are those?” ‘Ah, at least he knows what Pokémon are.’

“These three are known as Rowlet, Cyndaquil, and Oshawott. They had run off and I only caught up when you tumbled out of the sky… It’s almost as if they knew you’d appear here! However, I’ve had some difficulty controlling them. You see, they have a tendency to–” proving the point he was about to make, the three took off back toward the practice field “–run off. I’d catch them if I were more skilled…”

“Don’t worry, Professor! I’ll catch them for y– oooh, shiny!” The boy began to offer, before noticing something on the ground, picking it up, and securing it around his wrist?

“What was I saying? Oh yeah, I’ll catch ‘em for ya!” Before Professor Laventon could even give him any Poké Balls, he took off after the three. The professor followed to find young Barry chasing the three around the practice field, with his arms outstretched. Eventually, he managed to get hold of Rowlet.

“Here ya go, Professor! I caught one of them!” He looked so excited presenting the little owl. ‘I’m gonna have to be gentle with this.’

“Ah, excellent job! But by catching them, I meant with Poké Balls.” Barry stared at him for a moment, blinking a couple times.

“Oh~ yeah, I should’ve realized.” He then proceeded to release his hold on Rowlet.

“Why are you letting Rowlet go? It would be very simple to just tap it with a Poké Ball.”

“Because that wouldn’t be fair! At least, I don’t think it would.” As Professor Laventon handed the young lad fifty Poké Balls, he gave a strange look, but said nothing. He then proceeded to make quick work of catching the three. Rowlet and Oshawott were caught with the first ball, while Cyndaquil was caught on the second. Interestingly enough, he made a sound each time he threw a ball; it was something like “ngyeh!” Additionally, after Cyndaquil broke out of the first ball, Barry stomped in place while waving his arms up and down for a moment.

“My, you are quite skilled with Poké Balls!” Professor Laventon praised.

“Eh, wasn’t that big a deal.” Barry responded with nonchalance, only for a sonar ping to ring out. He then proceeded to look at what he strapped to wrist earlier.

“Huh, that’s weird; I don’t think I set any alarms on this… Seek out all Pokémon, huh?” “What’s that about seeking out all Pokémon?” the professor asked, curiosity rising.

“Well, this thing – it called itself an Arc Pokétch, but I think I’m just gonna call it an Arc-etch – is telling me to seek out all Pokémon. I dunno why, though…”

“Why, this works out perfectly for us! You see, my dream is to compile this region’s first complete record of its Pokémon! We in the field call such a catalog a Pokédex. But to document them, they must be caught. Thus, I propose we assist one another, as our goals are entwined. You possess such skill when it comes to catching Pokémon, that we could knock out two Starly with one stone! What do you say?”

“Uh, sure! It’s not like I’ve got any other plans.” Barry agreed.

“Splendid! Then let us be off to Jubilife Village! It’s not too far a walk from here.”

#my posts #zorua’s writing #pokemon legends arceus #protagonist barry au #rival barry #professor laventon #arceus #rowlet #cyndaquil #oshawott #for my tagging system:#pokemon #legends arceus #barry

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smallestapplin · 2 years

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You do realize you are a genius right? How you write lian and Sabi is the best! Question! Them calling the hero mom for the first time? And the hero being proud as their parent?

Thank you!!! found family is my favorite trope! And I can’t tell you how many times I look at these wardens and go ‘these are my kids and if anything happens Arceus can’t help you-‘

Calling you mom for the first time.

🪨Lian🪨

It took this little cowboy a little to warm up to you, you are an outsider after all but you proved yourself to his noble and thus him.

You started spending time with him and joining him on his trips to the highlands to look for ore’s and rocks. You respected him and his position as warden, but it seems like he and everyone else is trying to make him grow up too fast.

So you wormed your way into his trips.

Lian didn’t mind, in fact he likes the company. He gets nervous going to the highlands by himself, he knows goomy isn’t that strong so the added protection was comforting.

You’re always there for him, playing with him, patch up the smallest of wounds on him, telling him stories of your adventure, even helping him catch and train his own Pokémon!

You listen to him ramble on and on about different rocks and minerals. The young boy was happy to have someone willing to listen to him.

He didn’t mean to let it slip.

You hadn’t come to visit him in weeks, he was worried, he kept asking Irida for any updates cause she’s always in Jubilife but she’d only tell him that you’re doing better.

Which made him think you didn’t want to see him anymore. He won’t admit it but he cried at his nobles seat, the large Pokémon trying his best to comfort the small warden but to no avail.

But you came back, you were limping a bit but you were back. He wanted to be angry and tell you off for just leaving him, but seeing you carefully dismount Lord Wyrdeer and limp towards him with a smile on your face.

He couldn’t help but rush forward.

“Ma!” You hold back a pained grunt when he slams into you, head buried in your stomach as he hugs you.

“Hey sweetie, it’s good to see you again.” You wrap your arms around his shoulders to hug him back.

“You had me worried! You left you jerk!”

“Did Irida not tell you? I took a….bit of a tumble on a mission, but I’m fine now! And I get to see my favorite cowboy.”

A bit was an understatement but he didn’t need to know that.

You didn’t bring up the fact he called you ‘ma’ but after that it’s all he ever called you, it just felt natural.

Though he’d sometimes get embarrassed by it at first, but you’re his mom! And it’ll stay that way!

🍀Sabi🍀

Sabi liked having you around, you were the only person who would play with her and battle her Pokémon. Gaeric is boring and only strict work outs, she just wants to have fun!

You two play tag and hide and seek almost all the time, other times it’s snow ball fights, building snowmen, or you two make forts out the snow! She has so much fun with you.

And it gets her energy out, she particularly likes it when you teach her how to craft things in a way she understands. Or when you two go sledding! She is so happy when you bring your rapidash to run around the snowy terrain.

Calling you mom was just simple.

Professor Laventon called for you, it had gotten late and he just wanted to make sure you were okay or if it’s time to head back to the village.

And Sabi took this as you leaving her for the day. The green haired girl instantly latched onto your leg.

“Nooo! Me and mom still have fun stuff to do!”

Laventon is stunned but coos at how cute, even though your staring at the young warden with a starry eyed look.

“Yeah give us a few more hours Professor, then I’ll take her back to the settlement and read her a story.”

“Jolly good dear!”

“You mean it? Oh! I have this one book I want you to read to me.”

Anything for your daughter.

Telling them you’re proud/being proud

🪨Lian🪨

You had been training with him and his now Sliggoo and swinub. Teaching Lian was pretty easy, he learned typing match ups quickly and used them accordingly.

With his Sliggoo strong enough you set the training in the highlands but you made sure to stay close, and picked spots where the Pokémon weren’t deadly.

He was on a winning streak and would constantly look at you as if to ask if he was doing a good job. Which you always confirmed without him saying anything.

“Great job Lian! You’re getting better and better at this!” You pat his shoulder and smile.

The warden looks so happy, ready for his next adventure. And like the last few times his Sliggoo won but was casted in a bright light.

Lian watches in awe as his Sliggoo evolves into a Goodra. Both of you cheering and hollering at the large goopy dragon.

“I’m so proud of you! Both of you!”

You didn’t know what you said to cause his reaction but his smile was so wide and bright, with tears pricking his eyes.

“Y’all did amazing today, let’s head back to camp and rest, yeah?”

Lian nods, holding your hand while Goodra happily follows.

“Thank you for everything ma.”

“There is no need to thank me, I love you, and I’m proud to call you my son.”

The young warden was overwhelmed with the amount of joy he felt.

🍀Sabi🍀

She had been having trouble crafting Old Gateau. She wanted to make it for you so you could have more healing items on hand but she found this particular recipe difficult.

She was growing frustrated, no matter how many times she tried, no matter how many times you walked her through, and no matter how many times you showed her how, she couldn’t get it.

The longer Sabi was at this the more upset she got. But she was nothing but determined, she was going to get this right! She stayed up late that night crafting the perfect old gateau.

She swiftly showed it to you the next morning, bouncing around and handing it to you.

“See? I made it just for you.”

“I told you you could do it! I’m so proud of you Sabi!” You ruffle her hair a bit grinning down at her.

Your expression turned into confusion while she looks at you, cheeks red and the brightest smile you’ve ever seen on her.

“Yay! I’ll have to make more you!”

“Careful now, you might put Choy out of business.”

She giggles before grabbing your hand “come on, let’s go play!”

“What shall it be today my little crafter?”

“Forts!”

She makes you so proud, you love your daughter so much.

#you can pry found family out of my cold dead greasy grippers #pokemon sabi #pokemon lian #pokemon reader #pokemon #pokemon imagines #pokémon #pokemon fanfic #pokemon fluff #LOOK AT MY BABIES #parent reader #other #long post

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salandition · 4 years

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Its,,,,, so basic but Maybe Leon and Reader are training out near Circhester and get caught in a snowstorm? They find an old cabin amongst the trees and tHeReS OnLy OnE BED and they have to keep warm,,,, (Love your writing btw)

A/N: yes, the classic trope. I will gladly take a bite out of it :) Also this one kind of really dragged on, so it’s a bit long lol took me way too long to finish. if any of you recognize the title, ur a real one

Chilly Down (Good Times, Bad Food)

Leon x Reader

--- --- ---

You feel like you should have expected something like this to happen. Despite what a great guy Leon is and how fun it is to hang out with him, he was sort of a magnet for trouble. He had an ability to draw in unfortunate events wherever he went it seemed.

So you’re not completely surprised when you and Leon are hit with an unexpected snowstorm while training together outside of Circhester. Are you a bit miffed about it? Yes. But surprised? No, not really.

“Training with the Champion is great and all,” you yell over the storm, one arm in front of your face to uselessly protect you from the snow, and your other hand is holding tightly onto Leon’s. Grabbing hold of him was almost more important than making it out of the storm- if you lost sight of Leon during this, you might never see him ever again. He’d find some way to end up on an undiscovered continent, you just know it. “But I think I’ll pass on your invitations after this!” You finally finish, continuing to trudge through the snow with him.

“You know, usually I’d argue, but I think that’s fair,” Leon laughs, and then immediately shuts his mouth as a rush of cold air hits him and tries to travel down his throat. He hacks a few times- a few ice crystals probably hit his uvula or something- and then you feel a harsh tug on your hand. “Look!”

Leon points toward a dim but very much real yellow glow in the distance. Immediately, the two of you head for it- desperate for any shelter you could be given. Part of you was doubtful, wondering if it was just some luminescent Pokémon or a random streetlight. Though even a streetlight would be better than nothing- that would mean you were back on the route’s path and could find your way back to Circhester if you were lucky.

But it wasn’t a random streetlight. Thank whatever Gods that may exist- the light was coming from a big, sturdy wooden cabin, a sign being viciously blown by the wind read that it was even a hotel. What are the odds?

“This is literally the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” Leon yells as you both make a run for the cabin.

“I believe it!”

You almost fall with the amount of force that you and Leon enter the cabin with- both frantic to get out of the biting cold. You actually do fall, tumbling into a roll on the ground and snow scattering everywhere as Leon fumbles for the door and slams it shut before you bring too much of the storm inside.

Heavily breathing, you don’t even notice the lady behind the counter before she coughs.

Leon looks up with a beaming grin, laughing as he huffs and puffs, leaning against the door. “Hell of a storm, innit?”

Not the smartest thing to say, but the lady gives out an amused snort anyway.

“I’m assuming the two of you will be purchasing a room?” She tilts her head with a gleam in her eye. Something tells you that business isn’t going so well if she’s working in a hotel in the middle of nowhere and she’s still charging when you’re both obviously stranded- but hey, that’s life. You look up to Leon as you stay on the floor, hands on your chest as you continue to try and catch your breath.

“Let me see,” you huff and wheeze, “those Champion benefits,” another huff, “big guy.”

It’s not that funny but Leon laughs so hard that he starts to slide down the door, knees buckling beneath him, and you think that’s really funny so you start laughing too, rolling on the floor. The lady watches all the while, and if you notice a flying Rotom recording you while you and Leon lose your minds over nothing, you don’t say anything about it.

Once Leon manages to shuffle over and pay the woman at the desk after your post-adrenaline delirium, she gladly shows you over to your room. You’re suddenly feeling exhausted after trudging through a snowstorm, so you don’t pay much attention to what she says as she leads you there- but it’s not like you need to. Leon does most of the talking as he keeps you steady with an arm around your shoulder.

You don’t notice the look the woman gives you, nor do you notice the look Leon gives back. All you feel is the comforting rub of his hand on your arm, and it’s nice.

“Enjoy your stay, you two,” is the only thing you pick up from her before the door is shut and you’re left alone in your newly-purchased hotel room.

There’s an important detail here, and that detail is the fact that there’s only one bed, and you’ve never shared a bed with Leon before. Sure, you’re friends, but you’ve never been the cuddling-type of friends. This detail is completely missed by both of you as luck would have it because as soon as you and Leon manage to remove your clothes, you’re out like a pair of lights the second your backs hit the mattress.

No, the problem and important detail doesn’t really announce itself in your mind until morning comes. Well- afternoon, actually, if you managed to look at a clock.

When you awake- at first, it’s not strange. It’s not strange until you recognize the hand around your waist, hair in your face, and legs entwined with yours- which is definitely not something that’s a usual occurrence for you. Recognizing all of these details, your eyes snap open, and you begin to take in the situation as it is.

Leon and you both stripped down to your underwear, definitely cuddling, and definitely in the only bed available in the room as far as you can see. And from what you can tell with how the walls shake and the windows vibrate, the storm is still going strong.

Right.

“Leon,” your voice is hoarse from sleep as you smack your lips, your hand lifting up to shake Leon’s arm that’s wrapped tightly around your waist. “Leon, you daft idiot, wake up,”

“Mmmgh,”

“I’ll… I’ll steal all your Pokémon, and run off to another country. Wake up, Leon.” The threat is creative, but lacking any real malice behind it as you continue to shake Leon’s body. A few more rough shakes and he finally blinks his eyes open.

“Where… where am I?” He mumbles almost incoherently as he blinks a few more times, lifting himself up on his elbows as he takes in his surroundings. A bit of drool falls from the corner of his mouth.

It’s kind of cute, but also kind of gross, and Leon is still kind of on top of you in nothing but his underwear. You begin to wonder if he’s ever going to notice- but finally, his expression seems to come to life as his mind wakes up and he looks up and down your body again.

“...Right. Yeah, my bad.” Grunting, Leon finally rolls off you and to the other side of the bed. You want to laugh at the pinkness of his ears and cheeks if you weren’t vividly aware you probably looked exactly the same, so you bite your tongue for now. Apparently, the both of you have agreed to ignore your partial nudity for now as Leon holds his head in his hands, keeping his gaze off you as he asks, “why on Galar am I so tired?”

“Maybe we were supposed to die,” you snicker, sitting up yourself and bringing up the covers as you do, trying to stay somewhat-modest. “And now our brains are realizing we’re actually alive and it doesn’t know what to do.”

Despite himself, Leon giggles. “Yeah, maybe.”

The window shakes from more pressure of the storm outside. It gets your attention for sure, and you realize that you should probably check your phone to see when this storm would even end. Very, very slowly, you shuffle out of bed, analyzing the floor and looking at how scattered your clothes are. It takes your tired mind a minute to find your bag, but when you do, it’s not good news.

Of course there’s no service.

“Ugh,” you groan again. “This sucks.”

“Put on some clothes,” Leon says from the bed and you roll your eyes.

“They’re drenched, mate, and so are yours,”

Leon’s head snaps up from his hands at that. “Really?” You’ve got no reason to lie about that but he scatters toward his clothes anyway, feeling the damp and dirty texture of them with his own hands, as if that would change their outcome. You’re definitely not checking out his butt as he bends over to pick them up, because that would be silly and childish.

Very nice view, though.

Leon sighs. “Of course. Don’t suppose this hotel has a store of any sort?”

“Good one,” you laugh. “Probably not, but I’ll check the bathroom for robes-“

“Oh, let me do it,”

“Why?”

“I’ve really got to pee, mate,”

“Right on, then,” you point him toward the direction of the bathroom and Leon immediately makes himself sparse. You can only laugh as you watch him go, and while you wait, you gather all of your wet clothes and start to hang them all around the room so they might dry while you wait out the storm.

“Good news,” Leon comes out of the bathroom and you look over your shoulder, seeing him hold up two white, fluffy robes. He tosses one your way and you catch it easily, wrapping yourself up quickly and Leon follows suit. “So, roomie,” Leon raises a brow at you, hands on his hips, “what do we do now?”

You wave your phone that’s in your hand. “We got no service, so we should probably check in with that lady who was at the desk if she knows anything about the weather reports.” Your eyes move to look at the bed. “And maybe you should talk her into changing us to a room with two beds.” For both of your sakes.

“Right,” Leon nods. “Let’s go, then.”

More bad news, though. The lady didn’t know anything about the weather other than the fact that these storms usually lasted a day or two, so, in her own words, ‘if you’re lucky, you won’t be here much longer, but I can’t assure that. Also, you’re charged per night, per room.’

And all the rooms in this shotty little hotel only had one bed, so the idea of getting privacy at night was a lost cause. You weren’t the biggest fan of wasting your money or Leon’s on two rooms, anyway, especially since the owner seemed to be somewhat rude. So that’s nice.

‘At least she had food’, Leon had told you positively, and you suppose he was right. She had a rather weak list of a menu, but ‘at least there was a menu’ so you wouldn’t have to eat whatever berries you had in your bag. The two of you seemed to dance around the fact that you were going to most likely be sleeping partly nude again tonight, except this time you’ll both be a lot more awake and conscious of it. You distracted yourself with the mediocre food that tasted mildly burnt or undercooked, no in-between, and playing with what Pokémon could fit in your small hotel room instead until both of your eyes were drooping and you couldn’t delay the inevitable any longer.

“So.” You stand on one side of the bed, Leon on the other. Both of you stare at each other with your hands on your hips.

“So,” Leon nods.

“Should we… make rules?” Looking down at the bed and up at Leon, you know that technically you guys could try to stay on your side of the bed and probably not touch each other all night.

But you were keenly aware that this man is a cuddler and you had a subconscious habit to scoot over to the warmest thing while you slept, so it seemed like physical interaction was going to happen one way or the other.

“I think that’s a bit pretentious,” he scratches his chin and shrugs. His nonchalance is downplayed by the heat on his cheeks and the sweat on his temple. “It’s fine if we… Cuddle. Right?”

You suppose so. “I guess,” you purse your lips. “Typically friends cuddle with clothes on, though. And these robes are too awkward to sleep in.”

“I mean, we did it before.”

That’s true, but again, both of you were a bit delirious. But you can’t really argue with that, and you’re getting tired of dancing, so you nod and sigh. With a burst of courage, you square your shoulders, narrowing your eyes. Leon looks at you strangely before he squawks, his hands flying to cover his face when you remove your robe, the material falling and pooling around your feet.

“Some warning!” He chokes and coughs. You laugh through your embarrassment, quickly getting on the bed and under the covers.

“Come on. We could be sitting here all night. Lose the robe,” you cheer him on and Leon glares at you through the spaces of his fingers. “Lose the robe! Lose the robe!”

“Stop!” He laughs and you giggle along, but it slowly ebbs and abruptly comes to a halt when Leon does, in fact, lose the robe. It’s too much to ask for him to not notice how you stare, so of course he does- humming proudly as he snuggles under the covers. “Speechless?” Leon smiles.

“Don’t push it, I saw you ogling me the first time,”

He coughs when you smirk.

“Fine. Come here and cuddle me if you’re so smart.”

“Fine, I will!”

“Do it.”

“I’m gonna.”

The two of you lay under the covers, Leon’s arms open and beckoning, and you- frozen, not moving an inch. It’s not until he gives you a cocky look and starts to wiggle forward that you finally bite your lip and shove down your ego, rolling over to his side. It should be awkward, and it is, but only because the two of you somehow manage to fit together perfectly and that’s a bit odd. Your head resting against his collarbone, his arms wrapped snugly around your body, your legs entwined in a comfortable and fitting manner. It all happens almost instantaneously as if you’d both done this for years, as if it was a habit.

“Not that bad, right?” Leon murmurs in your ear and hums when your fingers trail little patterns across the skin of his waist and back. You mostly just did it to ease your nerves, not realizing how intimate the action was, but you figure it’s fine if Leon seems to like it. His hands explore your hair and the nape of your neck, the feeling making you curl further against him with a sigh.

“Not bad,” you whisper. “Still odd.”

He hums but doesn’t prod the conversation along any further.

Several odd minutes pass, your breathing slowing as your body relaxes against Leon’s. Right as you find yourself on that warm, lulling cusp of falling asleep, there’s a brushing feeling against the top of your head. Leon’s body shuffles and lowers on the mattress and you’re about to whine a complaint about him moving around so much- but you’re silenced by the feeling of lips against your forehead.

The hand that was previously teasing the skin of your neck trailed up and lightly grazed your cheek as Leon’s lips moved across your forehead to your brow. The actions are relaxing, yes, but your body tenses regardless because friends don’t do this.

“Leon,” your whisper is like a shout compared to the dark silence in the room. Leon freezes up instantly at the sound of it and when you open your eyes, his head is angled in a way with his lips still pressed against your temple so you can’t see his expression. “...What are you doing?” You lick your lips nervously.

“...I thought you were sleeping.” Is all he has to say. You can’t say anything in reply to that because it’s fairly obvious to the both of you that no, you weren’t sleeping. “Um.” The air that leaves his mouth is hot against your skin.

From where your head rests, snug against his chest, you can almost feel the thundering pace of his heart more than you hear it. You idly wonder if it’s possible for hearts to beat in sync with one another.

“Leon,” you say again when he doesn’t offer any explanation. He sucks in a shaky breath, his arm propping up from under him as he finally comes into your field of view; his eyes downcast and refusing to meet yours as he scoots away from you and lays his head back on his pillow. His hand lowers from your cheek down to your waist, touching your skin and then jolting back and insecurely moving against his chest, instead.

“Sorry,” he whispers, “that was a bit creepy.”

You remember the feeling of his heartbeat, and you don’t think that’s creepy at all.

You reach your hand forward, tenderly cupping Leon’s jaw as he had done to you. Finally, he looks at you- his golden irises shining like glowflies in the darkness. The moment held between you now is a stark contrast to the harsh snowstorm outside- if you strain your ear, you’d be able to hear the whistling of the wind and the creaking of the trees.

For now, all you can hear is your heart in your ears and the voice in your head saying kiss him, kiss him, kiss him.

You’re aware that friends don’t do this. They don’t look at each other like this and they don’t press their lips against each other so softly- meekly. Lovingly. Maybe if you’re experimenting, maybe if you’re a different type of friend. But you and Leon aren’t like that, you’ve never been like that.

So if things are different now, that’s something that’s a treasured secret between you, him, and the snow.

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runby2 · 4 years

Text

HLVRAI kin guide, by Juice

If you’re kin with Dr. Coomer: You were the class clown. You have ADHD and have learned exactly what to say to make people laugh so that they don’t leave you. You eventually learned not to care and adapted to referring to yourself as having “no brain cells.” You’re impulsive and you love to slap things like a wrapped turkey in the cold foods freezer section at Walmart. During winter you wear shorts because change is stressful. You’d eat pizza every night if you could, and when you eat an apple you feel like you’re connected to nature. One time you punched yourself to see if you could take it. You could.

If you’re Kin with Dr. Bubby: You never think before you speak ever. You’re the crazy uncle friend who people come to in hopes for advice but receive a meme and a “left on read.” Your friends forgive you though because they know you’re going through a lot. You love the Pokémon franchise, and collect shiny rocks. People beg you to stop talking sometimes and you just keep talking and make things worse. You’re cursed but people can still party with you. When you were a kid you grew the little figures that get puffy in water, and left one in the cup for too long just to see what would happen.

If you’re kin with Tommy: You’re soft, and because of that you’re not taken seriously. You’re sick of it, but keep kinning soft characters because you project that aspect of yourself onto them. Just because you’re mentally ill doesn’t mean you’re a baby, and people don’t get that. Then when your friends say that character is cute you silently think to yourself ‘yeah I’m cute but’ and then your thoughts stop there. You love dog memes, and own many stuffed animals that you refuse to part with from your childhood. You can’t look at a golden retriever catching a frisbee without crying. You stim a lot, and considered purchasing slime but you never knew if it would be worth it because it would probably just sit on a shelf. You get stressed easily, but know that one day you’ll be a fashion king so it’s all going to be okay.

If you’re kin with Gordon: you’re the dad friend. You have anxiety and depression but you’re still trying your best to hold a steady job. You keep your friend group as tame as possible, and try to lead them when you play online games. You’re easily frustrated but your patience is strong enough to tolerate a lot. You’ve been through a lot, and you know how to deal with pretty much anything at this point. In Minecraft you like to go exploring the best, and end up bringing home so many resources that your friends can’t make enough furnaces to burn your stupid large amount of iron. In the shower you wash your hair and think every time about if you should be applying the shampoo first or if it’s supposed to be the conditioner first. You overthink at all times.

If you’re kin with Benrey: you’re traumatized and LGBT+. You’re on meds but you forget to take them sometimes. In your friend group you get talked over a lot, but occasionally you’ll say something funny and everyone will laugh. That makes everything worth it. You’re a bastard, and love to cheat any game you can. Your Shiny Pokémon collection is made entirely out of Wonder Trade luck. You’re pissed off that when caterpillars hatch into butterflies you’re never there to see it. Milk is a drink you appreciate but hate drinking. Cool colors remind you of ice, and then ice makes you want to eat something. No one would trust you with a weapon, but you know deep down your whole comedic goof identity is an act and you would never actually hurt anyone because what if they leave?

If you’re kin with Darnold: you’re really sensitive to loud noises, but enjoy exploring whenever you go out to places. You’re an introvert, but that’s okay. Most of your friends are online. You have a lot of games you’d love to play but you don’t want to spend money on them so you just watch YouTube playthroughs. You’ve considered being a YouTuber because you’re confident in your people skills despite being antisocial. If you could wear a flower crown every day, you would. Pasta is your favorite, and at restuaunts it’s your go to if you don’t know what to order.

If you’re kin with G Man : You’re very gentle with everything. You have big plans for your future and yourself. You’ve considered getting a tattoo but what if you regret it? You have identity issues, so choosing a tattoo that would fit your identity would be super hard. You love to take warm baths, but when you shower you’re more proud of yourself. You’ve had nightmares that have left you in deja vu more than once in real life. If you could, you’d take all your friends to Disney land.

If you’re kin with Forzen: You have no sense of self. Religion doesn’t matter. No one can contain you. Nothing you do has any sort of meaning because you just do it because you think you have to. Your body runs on auto pilot. You wanted to work as a barista at one point but it would be too hard to get up in the morning. If it’s foggy out, you wave your hand up and down through it. You pick up any frogs you happen to see without thinking about the consequences first. When you get down on all fours you’re reminded of the days you did gymnastics as a child. Then you consider showing off for your friends. Then you wonder if you even remember how to do that weird tumble that you did when you were 6.

#hlvrai #hlvrai kin #fictionkin #benrey kin #dr coomer kin #gordon kin #bubby kin #tommy coolatta #tommy coolata kin #forzen #forzen kin

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keelywolfe · 4 years

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FIC: Welcome To Backwater (spicyhoney standalone)

Summary: Stretch isn't running away, not really.

He took the bus.

Only to end up in a little town in the middle of nowhere, meeting unusual people, dealing with unexpected happenings, what the hell is going on in this place?

Tags: Spicyhoney, Midwest Gothic

~~*~~

Read Chapter One on AO3

Read it here!

~~*~~

Stretch honestly wasn’t sure what state he was in anymore. Not philosophically, but literally, as in United States of etcetera. He’d drowsed off with his skull leaning against the cool glass of the bus window somewhere around three am, the drone of the wheels on asphalt lulling him and the darkness outside broken only by the brief, glaring flash of the occasional car passing by.

When he woke again the sun was high in the sky and the view outside was a blur of endless green. Fields of it as far as the eye could see, corn, maybe, he wasn’t up on all the traditional crops of the Aboveground or at least not enough to know them by sight.

His legs were cramped from being curled up on the seat next to him all night and Stretch shifted with a grimace to put his sneakers back on the floor. Didn’t exactly uncramp him, he was too tall for that, but it did change the angle so, hey, at least a small favor.

The rest of the bus was more empty than not, the other passengers mostly sitting on their own, sleeping or reading or playing on their phones. None of them gave him even a passing glance and that was fine by him. Probably got all their stares in last night when they first got on the bus. There’d been plenty of side-eyes and outright stares as Stretch made his way down the aisle to an empty seat. No surprise there, Monsters had been on the surface for a couple of years now, but it wasn’t like there was enough of them to make a sighting anything less than exotic for Humans. He was more grateful that no one tried to talk to him, eager to make a Monster Friend like they were a fucking Pokémon to add to their collection.

He’d met plenty of Humans like that over the years; put them off politely and they only tried harder, put them off rudely and they got loudly pissed. Couldn’t win that game and eventually Stretch got tired of trying.

He let his head fall back on the padded headrest with a sigh, closing his sockets. Not much point in thinking about that right now, that was the sort of shit that landed him on this bus.

His grungy backpack was on the floor, overstuffed to the point of the zipper straining and the sleeve of a spare hoodie trailing out of the side like an extra arm. Stretch managed to contort himself enough to reach down and dig his headphones out of the side pocket, relieved to find them charged for once. He poked the earbuds into his audial canals, heh, earbuds with no ears, it sounded like the start of a bad joke, and turned on a playlist. Soothing eighties, that seemed to fit in with the scenery outside. Or maybe not; from the occasional run-down barn the bus sped past, their peeling paint still advertising Mail Pouch chewing tobacco, this place didn’t seem to have crawled out of the sixties yet.

He was barely through the first song when the sorrowful refrain about the boys of summer was cut off by his phone letting out a persistent buzz. His brother’s picture popped up on the lock screen and it was probably his imagination making that sweet, smiling face look so judgmental.

Probably.

His thumb hesitated over the answer button before decisively settling on decline and he’d barely settled back into his seat with the melodious voice of Don Henley when it started up again. He let it go this time, every short burst of buzzing echoing through his skull until it stopped. It didn’t ring again.

By then the song had changed to ‘No One Is To Blame’, Stretch went ahead and skipped it. He didn’t really need to chew on any irony right now, it would kill his appetite for breakfast.

~~*~~

It was a few more hours before the bus pulled off for a pit stop and by then, Stretch was ready to start chewing on his chair arm. Might’ve if he thought the seats had been cleaned anytime in the past decade. He didn’t have a stomach, exactly, but they still needed to eat to replenish their magic and the hollow gnawing of his hunger was making him lightheaded.

Come to think about it, he wasn’t even sure when he’d last eaten. Sometime before yesterday morning, maybe even the night before when he’d sat picking at the meal his brother spent so much time making, trying not to see the worry in those starry-eye lights, silently hoping Blue didn’t say anything past ‘good night’. Shouldn’t have wasted the wish, not like they ever came true, anyway. The stars he’d wanted so much to see lived up to the ‘twinkle twinkle’ advertisement, the ‘wish upon a star’ part, not so much.

When he’d stuffed his backpack before heading off to the station, he hadn’t thought far enough ahead to even grab a granola bar or a bag of chisps. All he’d been thinking about was getting it done, getting out, down to the station to hop the first bus going anywhere.

That bus rolled to a stop with a loud hiss of compressed air, the bored-looking driver yanking the door lever open. Stretch let all the Humans get off the bus first, shuffling their sleepy, dead-eyed way down the aisle as they groaned and stretched, many of them already reaching for cigarettes. The last thing he needed was a rough elbow from some impatient jackass who couldn’t wait another minute to load up on gas station chili dogs for the trip. He waited until the last Human was almost off before making his own way down, the laces of his untied sneakers trailing behind him as he shuffled his way out.

After hours in the air conditioning, the humid air was almost stifling, the smell of gasoline thick along with the smog of exhaust.

The gas station was about as unimpressive as the barns they’d passed. No shiny neon signs here advertising regular and premium below a well-lit emblem of a Shell or a BP. Not even a bright red ‘Kum and Go’ to make adults snicker quietly above confused children’s heads. The ancient pumps looked as if their first service was to the Model T and every time the door opened it was heralded by the loud, rickety clang of a cow bell.

He was itching for a cigarette of his own, but not on an empty stomach. Might be out of luck for chili dogs after all in a place like this, but there was still hope. According to the travel guide he’d filched from the bus depot back in Ebott, this was the exact sort of place that might carry such exotic foods as pasties or whoopie pies. The guide didn’t have any pictures, but Stretch was hungry enough to take a chance.

He made his way across broken asphalt studded with cigarette butts and old chewing gum, already hungrily ready for at least a Snickers bar. Maybe that hunger was why Stretch didn’t see the short guy coming out the door, completely oblivious to the clanging warning of the cowbell as he rammed right into him and nearly knocked the overflowing paper sack right out of his hands. Both of them grabbed for it automatically, fumbling to keep from dropping it and instead the brown paper tore from top to bottom and sent a shower of cans tumbling down to the sidewalk.

“fuck!” Loudly said in two voices, very nearly in unison. Stretch was already on his hands and knees collecting silver cans with ‘Coors’ scrawled across their condensation-dewed sides. The shorter guy took a minute longer, bracing himself on a cane as he slowly reached for a can that’d rolled over to an overflowing pedestal ashtray.

“man, i’m sorry,” Stretch panted, snatching up the last can that was attempting to set a world record escape to the gas pumps.

“ain’t your fault,” the short guy grunted as he struggled back to his feet. “bag was damp from the beers.”

Now that Stretch wasn’t trying to herd cans, he got a better look and what he saw froze him in his tracks. He couldn’t not stare, not when his beer bumper was another Monster and more than that, another skeleton. Which was bizarre, Stretch only knew two other skeleton Monsters aside from his own brother and this was absolutely not one of them. None of them had jagged, sharky teeth and blood-red eye lights, a nasty looking crack running narrowly through one socket.

Nor did they need a cane to help them along on beer runs and the other skeleton was struggling to gather the cans up in his arms. He tucked two into his jacket pockets and tried jimmying the others into the crook of his elbow, but one of them squirting free and launched into the air.

Stretch caught it before it got too accustomed to flight, barely managing not to drop the already dented can back on the pavement. “here, let me help,” Stretch said.

The other skeleton was already shaking his head, reaching for the can, “nah, i live right around the corner, i’ll stack ‘em by the curb and make another trip.”

Yeah, because half the people from the bus wouldn’t wander out of the station and take advantage of the offering of free beer, that wasn’t gonna work. “at least let me get another bag from the clerk.”

The skeleton snorted aloud, “mitch don’t hand out bags, brought that one myself from my store.” He hesitated and added, reluctantly, “but if you really wanna give me a hand, the two of us can carry ‘em pretty easy.”

The bus was only on a fifteen-minute stop, gas, grub, and go. Anyone not in their seat got left behind according to his ticket stub, stated boldly in oversized text, and there probably wasn’t another bus station where he could catch a ride for fifty miles.

Stretch gave the street they were on a glance. They were in the middle of a shaggy, rundown sort of town, this gas station was probably the only one around. Barely he could see a plain, unlit sign on the building on the other corner that said starkly, ‘Groceries’. The local restaurant was probably called ‘Eats’, everything was fried up in the same bacon grease poured out from an old coffee can, even the pie. It was a screaming advertisement for the kind of Podunk town where everybody knew everyone, and outsiders were looked at with jaundiced suspicion.

And a Monster lived here.

Stretch took a couple more beers that were threatening to make another escape from the other skeleton’s arm and shrugged. “lead the way.”

It was slow going, not only because Stretch’s legs were about as long as the other guy was tall, but the other skeleton had a pretty bad limp, grunting with each step he took. Stretch hoped guiltily he hadn’t made anything worse by nearly knocking him on his ass, but if he had, the guy didn’t complain.

True to his word, they didn’t have far to go. The skeleton led the way towards that grocery sign, unlocking the door with a heavy, old-fashioned key that looked like it would be more at home in a castle rather than a grocery store in midwestern Cornsville. He pulled the door open enough for Stretch to grab it, another cowbell jangling overhead like an epidemic, and he held it open while both of them shuffled inside into a renewed rush of blissful air conditioning.

The grocery store didn’t exactly live up to its name. Maybe it was more a grocery shop or even ‘market’ with no ‘super’ tacked in front. The groceries consisted pretty much of a few rows of tall racks and a couple coolers, the shelves lined with cans, toilet paper, and other random dry goods. There was a wide counter by the door with a register sitting on it that’d probably been there for a hundred years and an incongruous credit card scanner nestled against its side.

The skeleton dropped his beers on the counter with a clatter of aluminum. He hopped up on a tall stool and popped open the cash drawer, shoving a couple bills into it as he waved a hand at the scarred wood of the bare countertop. “you c’n set the beers here. help yourself ta one.”

Beer wasn’t exactly what he’d been thinking about for breakfast but Stretch popped the tab anyway and took a long drink, unable to help a grimace at the bitter taste. The other skeleton let out a chuckle that deteriorated into a phlegmy cough, grabbing his own can and gulping down half of it in one swig.

Stretch looked around the shop, at the cans of beans and pickle jars with a fine layer of dust, out the front window where the view of the town was obscured by a couple years’ worth of blurry fingerprints. “you know any place i can get a room around here?”

The skeleton raised both brow bones. He finished off his beer and let out a mellow belch as he popped the tab on another. “planning on hanging around for a while?”

“maybe,” Stretch said, then shrugged. “probably. if i can find a job.”

The other skeleton considered that. His phalanges were sharp at the tips, chipping new little pits into the countertop as he drummed his fingers on it. He came to some sort of conclusion, his toothy grin widening, “tell ya what, i might be able to help ya out with both. you mind the store in the mornings,” he patted the countertop and ran his fingers lovingly over the ancient register, “and ya can stay in the spare room over the shop. ain’t much, but there’s a bed an’ a window. might be enough for a while.”

It sounded like a pretty good deal. A little too good and Stretch squinted suspiciously. “why?”

That grin soured. “let’s say ya got a trustworthy face. looks a lot more like mine than anyone else around these parts, too.”

That made Stretch wince a little, confirming what he already expected. They were the only Monsters in town and from the unkempt look of the store, the locals weren’t that keen about having them around. Be stupid to stay in a place where he knew he wasn’t wanted, even stupider than letting the bus go on without him.

In his pocket his phone buzzed loudly, making him jump. It buzzed once, twice, then Stretch reached in and pressed the silence button. Then he held out a hand to the other skeleton. “deal.”

To his surprise, the skeleton gave his hand a long look, studying it. Nothing to see but plain bone, his own fingertips blunted, and with a yellowish nicotine stain between the first and second knuckles. Stretch almost pulled it awkwardly back but before he could, the skeleton reached out and took it, shaking it almost painfully hard. “deal. guess now that i’m your boss, you’ll need my name. you can call me red.”

“stretch.”

The other skeleton, Red, laughed loudly and slapped his good knee, “yeah, that suits ya.” He hopped off the stool and limped around the countertop. “c’mon upstairs, there’s a shower, too. might want to put it to good use. welcome to backwater, kid, hope you stay a while.”

~~*~~

Red’s dour description of the room wasn’t quite accurate. For one, the room was larger than Stretch pictured, nearly the size of the shop beneath it. There was a bed, yeah, but also a card table and a couple chairs. In one corner there was a television so ancient there was a set of elderly rabbit ear antenna on top. But the whole setup was less dusty than the store downstairs, like maybe the previous tenant wasn’t that long gone.

Stretch didn’t ask. Sometimes not knowing made it easier to sleep at night.

The promised shower was in a bathroom only slighter larger than a closet, the hot water heater groaning audibly and pouring out a grudging trickle through the showerhead that spent alternating minutes as lava hot and icy cold. Despite that, it felt good to rinse away the layer of road dust he’d accumulated, soaping up with a leftover sliver of soap he found.

When he got out of the shower, a threadbare towel around his pelvis offering limited protection to his modesty, there was a steaming bowl on the table. Filled with a thick stew, blobs of meat floating in a greasy gravy, and a hunk of bread with it, along with another beer.

Stretch wolfed it all down hungrily, easing the last of his physical discomforts, then flopped down on the narrow bed. Red had told him to take the day to settle in and he could start work tomorrow. That sounded like advice well worth taking. He had a place, he had a job, and he had his phone on silent. He could text his bro tomorrow.

Yeah.

He turned on the television, but no matter how he moved the antenna, the only show that came in was static. He switched it back off, contemplated Netflix on his phone, and then decided that sleep was probably the number one choice for entertainment today.

The mattress was thin, the springs threatening to poke through the worn layers of cushion, but right now it might as well be stuffed with angel wings. Stretch closed his sockets and let sleep claim him.

~~*~~

Stretch wasn’t sure of the time when he woke, the former sunshine streaming in turned to a darkness deeper than he’d seen since they came out from under the mountain. No hint of bitter moonlight crept in through the curtainless window.

He leaned up on an elbow and tried to kick the tangled blanket around his legs loose, his sleep-tainted thoughts slow in coming back online.

When his mind finally booted up, Stretch flopped back on the sagging mattress with a groan. He was in the little town of Backwater, that was right, in the room above Red’s shop. An unfamiliar place, that was all, the only ghosts around here were his own memories, the only sound his own breathing. He wondered sleepily what had woken him, giving the picture window that took up half of the side wall a glance, and went utterly still.

Eyes. A deep, unrelenting gleam of crimson coals staring in at him from the other side of the glass. Rus couldn’t move, terror welling up thick and rancid, a primordial fear rising into his throat from his soul, shivering its way like a sin down his spine.

That crimson gaze flickered in a blink and Stretch let out a hoarse cry, his paralysis broken enough for him to scramble back, heels kicking at the covers as he cowered against the wall, waiting for the crash of breaking glass. Long minutes of nothing ticked by, his panic slowly fading, and when Stretch opened his sockets again, there was nothing outside the window but blackness, not so much as the yellowish aura of a streetlamp peeking in.

“fuck.” Stretch rubbed his forearm over his sockets, blinking hard, and looked again. Nothing, exactly as it should be outside a second-story window. He sank back against the mattress, swallowing down the hysterical little laugh that tried to bubble its way out.

“jus’ a dream,” he mumbled aloud and hearing his own voice was steadying. A dream, yeah, an eerie little hallucination brought on by too much beer and too little food, all wrapped up in this strange place. Stretch dragged the thin blanket back over him and rolled to his side, defiantly giving the window his back as he settled in to sleep. Tomorrow was gonna be a busy day and he was gonna need all the rest he could get.

He fell easily back into a weary, dreamless sleep and never noticed that crimson stare returning, gazing through the glass like deep red lamplight cutting through the darkness.

-tbc

#spicyhoney #papcest #keelywolfe #underfell #underswap #underfell papyrus #underswap papyrus #underfell sans #underswap sans #welcome to backwater

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ravenbrenna09 · 4 years

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Jij Verliest - Chapter Eight: Clips 3&4

master list

...

note: decided to drop two clips today because one was just texts; also as much as I want to italicize the texts, I’m not going to because Tumblr never gets all of them :/

also, mild spoilers for the the first part of Pokémon Sword and Shield

...

Maandag 14:11

Broerrrs + Luc

20 July, 14:11

Robbe: What are you guys doing on Wednesday?

Jens: Uh, I’m working that night. But not until like 19:00.

Lucas: I’m working that morning.

Jens: Really?

Lucas: Yeah.

Aaron: I don’t have to work.

Moyo: Me either.

Jens: Lucky you.

Lucas: Why?

Robbe: Because Sander wants to meet you guys. And he gets off at 16:00 on Wednesday.

Jens: Wait really?

Robbe: Yeah. Do you have a problem with it?

Jens: What? No, of course not. I guess I just didn’t expect it to be so soon. Especially after everything that happened.

Robbe: I know, but I want him to meet you guys. Officially. As my boyfriend.

Aaron: Awww, Robbe has a boyfriend.

Robbe: I’ve said he’s my boyfriend multiple times.

Lucas: Yeah, he literally won’t shut up about it.

Robbe: I’m sorry. How many times do you talk about Jens?

Lucas: :)

Aaron: I know, but it’s still new and I’m allowed to be excited.

Moyo: That’s true. We’re excited. And Wednesday sounds good to me. Noor and I are going out tonight.

Jens: Have fun! Wednesday sounds good to me too. Am I going to like him still after everything?

Lucas: Yes.

Jens: Oh really?

Lucas: One look at how he makes Robbe happy and you’ll like him again.

Robbe: I didn’t realize you stopped.

Lucas: He didn’t. He just says that he does. He’s gotta be all macho and protective.

Jens: You like me when I’m macho and protective.

Aaron: VDS at it again.

Moyo: You’re still in the group chat?

Jens: And? I can flirt with my boyfriend when I want to. Even in the group chat.

Robbe: I’m screenshotting that.

Aaron: What for?

Robbe: For when we eventually add Sander to this chat. And Jens tells me not to flirt with my boyfriend. I have proof that I can flirt in the group chat.

Jens: Are we adding Sander to the group chat? We haven’t even met him officially yet. And we never added Thomas to it.

Robbe: I know, but I have a feeling about this one. Plus, I know you guys already like him anyways. Especially Aaron.

Aaron: That’s true.

Jens: In love Robbe is my favorite Robbe.

Moyo: Yeah.

Lucas: Agreed.

Robbe: Thanks guys.

…

Dinsdag 19:25

It had been on Robbe’s mind for awhile—days, weeks even. It was time for something different.

At least for Tuesday.

Tonight, Sander was going over to Britt’s parents’ house. It had been an unexpected and last-minute invite from her parents and Sander was asked to come. Britt had messaged Robbe about it, asking if it was okay, and Robbe had said that it was. It still felt a little weird—as weird as his boyfriend pretending to be dating his ex-girlfriend could be—but that wasn’t why Robbe was upset. But, Robbe didn’t even know if ‘upset’ was the word he should be using… Disappointed? Maybe.

It wasn't about Sander going over to Britt’s. It was Sander going over to Britt’s tonight.

Changing up his streams had been on Robbe’s mind for a few weeks and yesterday afternoon, after playing numerous matches that were just like all the others, he finally decided that he wanted to do it. At least for one day. When Britt had asked—followed shortly by Sander’s call—he thought of pushing the change off until later but, at the same time, Robbe didn’t want to.

Since that Friday night, Robbe had been itching to play Pokémon Sword and Shield, the newest generation in the franchise. With their buzzed and love-drunk minds, they hadn’t really gotten very far into the game. Every once in a while, they would pause to kiss and it would end up a little more handsy than originally planned. Once they managed to pull themselves away, they would barely make any progress before they would tumble back against the bed, kissing each other.

So Robbe went out and bought a Nintendo Switch after his Monday night stream. Because Sander had a copy of Pokémon Shield—he remembered the opening title scene quite vividly—Robbe chose the opposite version before looking through to see what other games were compatible with the console. Once he got his new purchase home, he spent the majority of the evening setting it up with the help of YouTube videos. Zoë had brought him a plateful of spaghetti as he was knee-deep in cords.

Once he woke up on Tuesday morning, Robbe put the finishing touches to make sure that everything would run smoothly—or as smoothly as it could without going live. Even though Robbe had informed them that he was going to do something different, his nerves were still running high, bouncing in his chest. For years, Fortnite had been the only thing that Robbe streamed. So the bulk of his audience would expect Fortnite from him.

Before he started the stream, his phone vibrated loudly against the desk, pulling his gaze from the computer in front of him.

Sander: Have a good stream, baby. I’m hoping to catch the end. If not, I’ll watch it before bed.

A flood of warmth shot through Robbe and soothed all of the erratic nerves in his chest. Unconsciously adjusting his headphones, Robbe typed out a quick message.

Robbe: Have a good dinner. Text me when you get home.

Sander: I will <3

Once Robbe placed his phone to the side, glancing at Sander’s framed sketch, he started the stream. Even though he was still nervous, it was all for nothing. To his surprise, a majority of his regular audience were excited to see him play through Sword for the first time. On the other hand, there were still a handful of people who weren’t excited. Before they left the chat, they made passive aggressive comments about going to watch a Fortnite streamer, and the comments stung a little. Thankfully, the majority of his audience encouraged him and he started the game with little fuss.

On that Friday evening with Sander, they had chosen the water-type starter, Sobble. While Robbe thought that the anxious salamander (or chameleon?) was adorable, he ended up choosing the Scorbunny this time around, which he named Flint. The white bunny with a bandage on his nose had interested him. Plus, if he and Sander were going to continue with Sobble, he wanted to do something different with this one. Once he hit the first route of the game, Robbe caught a Rookidee, which he named Alloy. It was a small bird that looked angry but would eventually evolve into a Corviknight.

When Robbe finally reached the Wild Area, the vast area between cities—and, he learned, Pokémon’s first step into an open world—Robbe paused to consider getting the online services to connect with his viewers who had Pokémon. After a few minutes, he decided to wait until later in the game before he got the online services. Plus, he wanted to look into the other games on the Switch so he could do what they were temporarily dubbing “Nintendo Tuesday.”

As Robbe prepared to enter the Opening Ceremonies for the first time, his phone vibrated against the desk, drawing his attention. Rebel, Rebel played again as Sander’s text message popped up on the screen.

Sander: Baby, buzz me in.

Pulling down his headphones, he barely could make out the buzzer in the hallway. It was still going—which meant that no one else was home. “Umm,” Robbe said, placing his controller on the desk. His character was mid-conversation with a stadium worker and his chat was moving very quickly. “Sorry, I’m going to take my five-minute break now.”

Muting his microphone and placing his headphones on the desk, Robbe shot out of his bedroom door and hit the buzzer on the front door. It only took nearly a full minute for Sander to arrive at the front door, knocking lightly, and Robbe opened it impatiently to find him there on his doormat. Sander was dressed in a long-sleeve black button-up with a pair of skinny jeans. His cheeks were flushed, likely from the heat.

As soon as the door opened, Sander stepped into the apartment and kissed him hurriedly. His skin was hot to the touch—and a little sweaty–but Robbe didn’t mind, bringing him closer against him. Sander wrapped his arms around Robbe’s waist before pulling back. “Hi, baby.”

“Hey,” Robbe said, beaming.

“I’m sorry for interrupting your stream,” he said. “I just really wanted to see you.”

“Is everything okay?” Robbe asked.

“Yeah,” Sander said, squeezing his waist. “Everything is fine. While we were at dinner, her parents asked us if we were really dating because we never kissed in front of them. When her father tried to force us to kiss to prove that we weren’t faking it, Britt exploded. She got into a fight with her dad and I could only watch with her mom as they fought. In the end, she came out to her parents.”

Robbe felt his eyes grow wide, pulling back. “What?”

Sander nodded. “Yeah, I didn’t tell you before because she wasn’t ready yet. But when I took her to my apartment and was going to come over here, she let me know that I could tell you. She’s been in a relationship with her girlfriend for six months. Her parents were always a little overbearing and controlling in her life and tonight was the last straw. She packed a bag and she’s staying in Noor’s bedroom until she figures out what to do.”

“Wow,” Robbe said. “I’m so sorry.”

Sander shrugged with a sad look on his face. “It’s been a long time coming. Since she’s found out, she’s been a ticking time bomb with her parents. They always talked about her being with a good guy—even when she was with me, both real and fake—and she internalized all of it. Every time, she got a little closer until it was too much.”

Robbe nodded. He understood that feeling. In high school, he exploded at the Broerrrs. He had been going through so much—his mother in the hospital and his repressed feelings that he refused to acknowledge to even himself—until one day it was too much. Thankfully, he had Milan and Zoë to help him. The Broerrrs forgave his explosion and changed when they realized how much Robbe was hurt by their words. Avoiding Sander’s gaze, he mumbled, “I know what it’s like… to explode.”

Sander nodded, pressing a kiss to Robbe’s forehead. For a second, they simply rocked in the silence of the foyer. Soon, Sander ducked his head down to press a kiss against Robbe’s lips and he arched against Sander’s chest. Robbe stood on his toes, wrapping his arms around Sander’s neck, and kissed him back. Sander wrapped his arms tighter around Robbe, bringing him flush against his chest, as he dug his fingers into his hair.

Pulling back, Sander kissed his nose. “You better get back to your stream. I just really wanted to see you.”

“They can wait a little more,” Robbe said.

“Yeah, but you don’t want to keep them waiting forever,” Sander said grinning. Placing one more kiss on his lips, he moved back to the front door. As Sander reached to open the door and step outside, Robbe tugged him back against him and Sander looked at him confused. “What is it?”

“You don’t have to leave,” Robbe said. Sander stared down at him with half-lidded eyes and Robbe swallowed his nerves. “You can stay here and come on the stream with me—or hang out in my room if you feel more comfortable with that.” A small smile grew on Sander’s face. “Besides, I need your expertise about my stream and I’d love to have you with me.”

“Didn’t you say last week that I would be distracting?”

“Maybe,” Robbe said, tilting his head back. Sander stared at him with a sly smile on his face. “Maybe I also changed my mind about you being distracting. But you have to promise to be on your best behavior.”

“Okay,” Sander said, gripping his hips tightly. “I’d love to join. But I don’t know how much help I’m going to be with Fortnite and online matches. All I know is what you’ve told me or I’ve heard on your streams.”

Robbe smiled, pressing a kiss to his lips before moving to the kitchen. “I’ll be back soon. I still need to grab a glass of water or I’m not going to be able to make it the rest of the stream without another break.”

When Robbe returned to his bedroom, Sander had kicked off his shoes and unbuttoned his shirt, exposing the black shirt he had beneath it. His bag had been discarded at the foot of the bed. There was an emotional look on his face as he turned to Robbe who stepped into the doorway.

“You’re playing Pokémon?” Robbe nodded, relishing when Sander closed the distance and pressed another kiss to his lips. Even with a full glass of water in his hands, Robbe wasted no time in wrapping his free arm around his shoulders and kissing him back. When they separated, Sander grinned. “Lucky for you, Mr. IJzermans, I’m quite the Pokémon expert.”

Robbe smiled, stealing another fleeting kiss. “Lucky me.”

#wtfock #wtfam #jij verliest #robbe ijzermans #sander driesen #twitch streamer!robbe #tattoo artist!sander #sobbe #rosander #they're in love

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