#stealing corviknight's thunder

[corvidares]

not appreciating all the corviknight violence these days -sniffs haughtily-

[druddigoon]

prompt fill #1

@shame-cubed: bede and gloria in a raid together

this was supposed to be a simple one but then i decided to add 3 more people and a metric fuckton of tension and it kinda blew up. word count: don’t worry about it

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“Where’s the dynamax pokemon?” 

He eyes you with a mask of disdain, attention briefly flitting to the vikavolt you have buzzing over your shoulder. “Not an issue, no thanks to you.” 

“There’s been reports of energy flares in almost every gym, so it took a bit of time to get here.” You pause to catch your breath, removing your beret to run a hand through your windblown hair after a harrowing flight over the Tangled Woods. Dangling under a vikavolt fifty metres off the ground doesn’t do well for vertigo. “I’m here to help. There’re other people coming, just show us where the pokemon’s at and we’ll calm it down.” 

There’s muffled banging at the main entrance, a drawn-out holler cut off with a sharp rebuttal. Hop and Piers. Bede’s voice ices over. “Then go play hero for the other towns. We don’t need you here.” 

The nerve of him. “I don’t know if you’ve stuck your head out of your little me-bubble yet, but people are trying to save the region from collapsing, and maybe if you stop babying your ego for just one second you’d accept help when help is offered—” 

“I believe Bede is suggesting he’s already dealt with the issue.” Opal cuts in, stepping out from under the shadow of the backroom. She looks the same since your gym challenge—angular face drowning amid her ample ruff, deceptively leaning on her umbrella-cane like she isn’t capable of throwing it away in a heartbeat—but it’s the way Bede stands straighter and draws closer to her presence that has you thrown. 

This is not the Bede in Galar Mines, not the Bede in Hammerlocke, tired and disgraced; this is not the Bede at Wyndon semifinals, desperate for redemption. This is the Bede who’s found his home, confident and grounded when you’ve had the rug swept from under your feet. 

The gym challenge changes people, they say. 

(You’ve never felt more alone.)

“Miss Opal! We’re here to help you with the dynma—” Hop skids to a stop once he notices Bede, and the way they size each other up reminds you of fights between wild pokemon. 

Coming here was a mistake. 

“Evenin’, ma’am.” Piers brings up the rear, eyes glued to his rotom-phone, unheeding toward the palpable tension in the room. “Dynamax readin’s gone, I reckon you’ve got it taken care of then.” 

“Why yes, my protégé handled the rogue shiinotic brilliantly a little while before you came.” 

Bede smirks at her praise; you lay a hand on Hop's shoulder to stop him from pulling anything, only to have him roughly shrug it off and stalk out of the building. 

“I wouldn’t bother with him,” Bede says as you stare at the still-swinging doors, something close to shame prickling deep in your throat. “Someone who thinks he's entitled special treatment because his brother’s the champion doesn’t deserve to take his spot.” 

Deep breaths. Opal watches you with hawk’s eyes, and for a second you feel more bone than flesh, surrounded. Think of secret summer grottos, ponds with water so clear the remoraid’s scales gleam as they swim through, think of how happy Crustle was when his crabapple tree bloomed, maybe wiping that smarmy expression off Bede’s face even though you can’t throw a punch to save your life. 

When you dare to speak again, your voice comes out lowed like a hiss from a boiling kettle. “If you’re so good at dealing with dynamax pokemon, I’d like to see you handle the rest of this problem.“ 

“I fail to see how the rest of the gyms fall under my jurisdiction. We’ve dawdled for long enough, it’s time—” 

“He’ll do it.” 

“—for you to...what?” 

You’d savour the look of disbelief on Bede’s face if the implication of Opal’s comment didn’t sink in. She regains control of the situation with a smile, too pleasant for the gravity of her words. “It must be difficult for the three of you to handle all of this on your own. These bones are too old to hitch a ride on unlicensed fliers, but Bede here can accompany you while I guard the gym.” 

Bede runs a hand through his hair, considering. 

“Fine,” he bites out, releasing his gardevoir before striding out the entrance. You quickly jog after him, hoping to reach Hop before he does. “Let’s go.” 

“—very keen on addin’ fuel to the fire.” Piers comments far behind you.

“They’ll sort it out,” Opal replies, “Sometimes all it takes is getting a little burnt.” 

————————-

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Hop gapes at the skulking figure of Bede from his perch atop his corviknight, an imposing bird outlined in scintillating angles against the dead of night. “Glor, please tell me you’re joking.” 

“He wanted to come. You...we need all the help we can get, and having him just means we can get this done faster and safer. Please. This is for the greater good.” 

“Are you siding with him now? Is this what it is? This is a bloody insult to injury, Glor. Do you remember what he’s done to you? Do you remember what he’s done to me?” 

“I’m not taking anyone’s side! You can choose to never see Bede again after this is over, Hop, it’s just that we have a bigger issue at hand and everyone’ll need to put aside their difference until we can stabilize the region.” 

“I know, but I'm a hundred percent sure that we. Don’t. Need. Him.” He punctuates every word with a jab of his finger in Bede’s direction. “We were fine in Turrfield. We were fine in Hulbury. We were fine in Motostoke, we were fine in Stow-On-Side. We’re almost done, we’d just finish everything with more peace of mind if he buggers off.” 

Bede crosses his arms. “Flattered you think so highly of me. Honestly, Hop, you’re desperation is showing. Worried that I’ll steal your thunder?” 

“Guys, please—” 

Hop’s corviknight lets out an ear-piercing screech, rearing up and flapping its wings in a way that forces the rest of you to back up. Bede’s gardevoir steps in front of him, her horn glowing with the beginnings of psychic energy. 

“ENOUGH!” A dark shape, too fast to make out, cleaves between the two boys, the acrid smell of something sour lingering behind. 

Piers steps out, followed closely by his obstagoon, the vestiges of a night slash still roiling off its foreclaws. “This isn’t what I was expectin’ from a finalist and a gym leader, and you two ought be ashamed of yourselves for this kind of behavior.” He sighs heavily, rubbing his temples. “I need a smoke break. Gloria, come with me.” 

————————-

“Marnie told me you lot were good kids.” Piers takes a slow drag of his cigarette. You fidget with the hem of your skirt, sneaking peeks at the clearing even though neither of the boys are in sight. “So imagine my surprise when I end up babysittin’ two kids who look one second away from tearin’ each other’s throat out, with you actin’ like you’re the reason they want to.” 

“I am.” The floodgates burst all too easily; you never expected to pour your heart out to a near-stranger, fraying dye job illuminated in the harsh glare of the street lamp and wreathed in a halo of cigarette smoke, but lately all your friends have been worse than strangers and Piers. Piers sits still and listens. “I-I never wanted to do...this. The championship is always Hop’s dream, and I promised to help him get it like a friend before pulling it out from under him. Could’ve supported him after Bede broke his spirit—he said he was a disgrace to Leon’s name, even though he isn’t even relevant—but instead I decided to hammer it in by battling him and winning.” 

You shut your eyes, grind the heel of your palms hard onto them until you’re seeing stars. “I saw Bede’s disqualification. I was there to see the hope go out of him when Rose told him he no longer worked for them, was there and did nothing. I’ve done nothing but shirk and shirk, and now i’m supposed to stabilize Galar’s dynamax outbreak when I can’t even lift a finger for the people closest to me.” Bitter smile. “Some champion I am.” 

Piers huffs. He drops the cigarette, crushing its embers under the heel of his boot, before looking up and speaking. “I don’t know enough to say it’s not your fault, but you’re takin’ your mistakes out of proportion.” 

“Spikemuth’s never been my dream; most people don’t end up doin’ the thing they want, believe it or not. This may not be yours and yet you’re tryin’, and you’ve got heart. I doubt a bad champion would be risking her life travelin’ from town to town confrontin’ rampagin’ pokemon like you are now.” 

“That...still doesn’t make me a good champion.” 

“No, it doesn’t.” He stands, brushing off lingering ash. “But Galar doesn’t have a ‘good champion’. It has you. And even if you can’t redeem yourself in the eyes of your friends, you can redefine yourself in everyone else. Come, let’s head back.” 

You return to the same silent standstill you left. Hop can’t meet your eyes, face buried in the feathers around his corviknight’s neck. Bede only stares back; a challenge. 

“Which cities do you have left?” he asks. 

Piers checks. “Only Circhester and Hammerlocke, it looks like.” 

“We’ll split up, then,” Hop interjects, not even looking up. “Piers and I’ll go to Circhester, while Gloria and Bede go to Hammerlocke.” 

“That’s fine,” you concede after a moment’s pause. He’s trying to distance himself from you, but can you blame him?

(You can’t, not really. This must be a nightmare situation for him—losing to the false heirs, failing to catch them, fighting alongside his former-friend-now-champion knowing he could’ve been the one in her place, watching her strike the final blow as his cinderace heals on the sidelines. Every reminder is driving a nail in the coffin, and Bede’s arrival is simply the stake that split it at the seams.)

“Best of luck to you, then.”

“Good luck to you too.”

————————-

“Everything you’ve said to Hop applies to you, y’know.” 

“Are we really going over this now?” The Hammerlocke gym halls are far too empty for comfort, deep rumbles echoing against your skull as you catch flashes of light past stadium doors. You stalk onward, eager to get the situation over with and return to Ballonlea. Damn Opal. “We have a bigger issue at hand.” 

Out of the corner of your eye you see Gloria puff out her cheeks. If someone were to back you into the corner of an alley with a knife pressed to your throat, you’d admit you do respect her; becoming the Champion is no easy feat, and nobody expected it from a quiet girl with a team full of bugs, the beginner’s route fodder others grind to train their battlers. It’s her altruism that irritates you, a relentless selflessness that will get her bitten, somewhere down the line. “Can’t you accept help without fighting it?” 

You fall silent. 

Oleana’s voice, ice against your ear. “Is this how you’ll treat the man who found you, back when you were all alone?” 

(More wishing stars. Always more wishing stars.)

A rattling roar resounds ahead. Sensing she’s needed, Hattie coalesces by your side with a chiming noise, and you continue on, pushing past reinforced double doors. “The last person who offered me help was Rose.” 

And look where it got me.

The dynamaxed haxorus is huge; its scythe-like tusks crest above the open roof of the arena, claws as large as longswords carving deep furrows into the turf, an excess of power and energy given a corporeal form while the haxorus’s original body is tucked away behind layers of shields. An entire section of bleachers had been razed to the ground, steel gouged with millions of tiny lacerations that fractal in draconid energy. Gloria finally shut her mouth, calling out her crustle as you start putting distance between you and her.  The flash of light catches the haxorus’s attention. 

Its eyes are impossibly wide—a deerling in headlights, more prey than predator—and when it roars, it's a pained cry pitched like a plea.

The raid begins. 

Gloria fights like battling is innate to her, instinct ingrained through bone in a way no amount of textbook memorization or controlled-environment training can hold a candle to. Bugs are notoriously more id than superego; rather than suppressing it, hers seem to have tailored their natural behavior towards battling, where her commands are less commands than they are suggestions, tips, and warnings, a coach to her players. She trusts her pokemon, and they make it worthwhile. It makes her incredibly hard to read, as most of the time she isn’t even giving instructions.

Helpful in a singles matchup, not so much in a tag-team battle.

You hear her call out from the other end of the stadium, and her crustle withdraws into its shell just fast enough to dodge the brunt of Hattie’s dazzling gleam. In the split second when the haxorus is sent reeling, it pulls off a shell smash, darting out of its shell in a blur of orange to land a stone edge that shatters the haxorus’s shields. 

It keeps up the distraction long enough for Hattie, slow as she is, to charge up another dazzling gleam. The stadium lights up in a brilliant light display as it explodes against the haxorus’s side, sending it reeling. Crustle is also sent flying a couple metres back before getting back on its feet, the exoskeleton of its claws warped from where it used to to block the worst of the attack. 

“Stop hitting me!” Gloria calls. 

“Then dodge out of the way! Hattie can’t avoid you without compromising her output!” 

Haxorus finally notices you, letting out a bellow as its tail warps into something steel-tipped, sharp with metallic ridges gleaming crimson in the dynamax light, before swinging the entire thing towards you. 

Of course. Bloody thing knows steelspike. 

Your back collides with the stadium walls before you realize there’s nowhere to run. Damn Opal. Couldn’t make do with just the shiinotic. Hattie matches the haxorus with her own war cry, energy streaming through her coat in a last-ditch attempt at damage. 

In the span of a split second, something orange collides with the tail, knocking it off track. 

Then the world flashes white. 

When you finally regain your vision, the haxorus is back to its regular size and barely conscious, keeling over onto the ground. Hattie twirls, unscathed save for shards of steel tangled in her hair. 

You could hardly recognize it without its boulder shell, but buried in the sand beside her was the fainted body of Gloria’s crustle, who’d taken the brunt of the steelspike. 

“What was that?” You ask Gloria, who had recalled the fallen haxorus into its gym-issued pokeball. 

She crouched next to her crustle, checking it for injuries before withdrawing it as well. “Crustle blocked its attack. Don’t worry about him; he’s tough, and I’ll reward him with extra fertiliser to his favorite tree after this.” 

“Hattie could’ve take—” You stop, because no, she wouldn’t, before amending “It’s unnecessary. Crustle could’ve utilized the chance to get its last hits in.” 

“He might’ve missed. This gave us the best chances of winning, and he wanted that. Wouldn’t have followed my order if he didn’t. Also...Hattie?” 

“Stop changing the topic. You’d let it throw itself into the path of danger for a chance?” 

“Yes.” 

She looks a little dejected, but doesn’t push like he expects her to. Nobody gives charity for free; he’s learned this through his multiple orphanage relocations, Rose’s too-large watch, Opal’s quest for an heir. His mind is quick to point fingers at pity, just like the others, but he can smell pity a mile off and Gloria’s never been the type for it, not to him. 

Why?

“Isn’t this a betrayal to Hop?” 

Her face steels over. “He doesn’t have to like anything I do. He’s not here, and this isn’t about him.” It’s a far cry from Stow-On-Side, her fury on Hop’s behalf. You’ve noticed the two seem more distant lately. The gym challenge changes people, they say. 

The outside air is cool on your face. Gloria’s vikavolt has its claws latched onto her backpack, carrying her in what you’d describe as the most dangerous method of flying and you still don’t understand, why why why why why? 

“Gloria?” 

She glances back at you, head tilted slightly to the side. Your question dies in your throat. 

“Stay safe.” 

She looks at you strangely. “T-thanks. Stay safe too.” 

You watch until her figure becomes a dark speck on the horizon before heading home, alone.