#yeah sure they believe that your indignant cries are birds

[glassesmcfancyhair]

Ok, so, it’s not about manufacturing the affection between Benedick and Beatrice, it’s about exposing their already existing affection and giving them permission to be vulnerable with each other.

[creampuffqueen]

With your heart in your hand (and your sword at your side)

a/n: here it is! the first request from my 300 follower celebration! this was requested by the lovely @morganofthewildfire, with the prompt “They’ve grown so much, it’s hard to believe how little they used to be”, with Rowaelin! enjoy!

~~~~

Aelin Ashryver Whitethorn Galathynius, queen of Terrasen, stood in the courtyard of her palace, fire flickering at her fingertips, watching as the two small children before her copied her stance and produced puffs of smoke that billowed from their hands. 

“Good, Thallan,” She praised her son, smiling as a spark flew from his open palm and onto the stone ground. The boy grinned back at her, stretching his arms out further to focus the heat more. 

“Aerith, that’s so good!” Aelin turned to the other child, her youngest daughter, feeling the heat at her side. The tiniest of flames fluttered from Aerith’s hand, and the girl’s blue-gold eyes lit up with delight.

“Mama! I’m doing it!”

The flame sputtered out a moment later, and Aelin couldn’t resist scooping up her daughter into a hug. “I’m so proud of you, sweetheart!”

“Mama, look!” Thallan demanded her attention as a matching flame, twin to his sister’s, appeared in his palm.

Just like Aerith’s, Thallan’s flame didn’t last for more than a few seconds, but Aelin couldn’t care less. She pulled her littlest child toward her, relishing his squeal of delight.

“Both of you are doing so well!”

“Can we show Daddy?” Aerith begged, pointing to the sky. Aelin’s gaze followed the little finger, her grin widening as she saw the white-tailed hawk that was circling the courtyard. 

“Of course you can. I know he’ll be impressed.”

Rowan dove to the ground, shifting in a flash of light and landing on his feet. The two five-year-olds escaped their mother’s grip to run to him, clinging to his legs.

“Daddy!” Thallan shouted excitedly, “Watch us! Me and Aerith can make fire like Mommy can!”

Rowan locked eyes with his mate across the yard, and she leaned against one of the walls with a smirk. Watch them, she said with her eyes, They both can do it.

“I’m gonna be the best fire wielder in the world!” Aerith laughed, focusing hard on the tips of her fingers. Fire danced at the tip of each one, for barely half a second, before going up in puffs of smoke. “Did you see that, Daddy?”

“That’s so good, sweetheart.” Rowan praised, his smile so wide that his pointed canines could be seen. “And you learned that so quickly.”

Beaming at his compliment, Aerith repeated her actions over again, producing small flames that went up in smoke. 

Thallan tugged at his father’s hand, demanding his attention. “Daddy, I’m gonna be even better than Aerith.”

“Well, nobody can be better than Lyria,” his twin sniped back, her bottom lip jutting out in a pout. “So there.”

“Don’t start fighting, you two.” Rowan sighed. “Thallan, show me your fire. I’m sure both of you are incredible.”

He always knew just what to say. Aelin watched happily as her children both produced small bursts of flame. At five years old, they had already achieved a lot power-wise. Both of them were creating snowstorms in their cribs when they were toddlers, and their powers had only grown. 

Recently, the two children had gotten overexcited during a game of hide and seek and set a curtain on fire, leading to their current situation; Aelin training both of them with her power of fire. 

After showing off to his father, Thallan distracted his twin’s attempts at creating more fire by starting a game of tag. The high pitched squeals of the two children running around the courtyard were music to Aelin’s ears.

With Aerith and Thallan distracted, Rowan made his way over to his wife and mate. He wrapped a strong arm over her shoulders and leaned down to kiss her hair.

“Remember when they were so little?” Aelin sighed. Thallan nearly tagged his sister, but she shifted into her animal form at the last second, causing him to miss. The hawk she’d transformed into gave an indignant squawk, and flew up to the tallest tree.

“They’ve both grown so much.” Rowan agreed. “It’s hard to believe that they used to be that little.”

“Wasn’t it just yesterday they were just babies?” Aelin could feel herself starting to get emotional, and she wiped futilely at her eyes. “Wasn’t it just yesterday all of them were babies?”

“They grow up too fast.” Her mate murmured gently in her ear. “Remember how Lyria and Sam would crawl into our bed at dawn to snuggle?”

“Or how Aspen never liked to crawl, he was just sitting one day and walking the next?” Aelin sighed, reliving fond memories of her children. 

“Or how Evalin would run around the palace with just her diaper and a tiara?” His hand rubbed gentle circles on her back as Aelin sniffed softly.

“And now they’re so big, Rowan.”

Before he could respond, Rowan’s attention caught on something in the sky. Aelin followed his gaze, a wet laugh escaping her throat as she saw her youngest children, both in their animal forms, chasing each other through the sky.

An ear-piercing shriek came from over the horizon, another bird flying over the high wall of the courtyard. Another white-tailed hawk, the same form as his father. Aspen shifted, landing on top of the wall, and waved to his parents.

“Hey Aspen, done with your schoolwork?” Aelin called, quickly drying her eyes. 

“Uile air a dhèanamh*, Mama.” Her son replied proudly.

“Obair mhath, a mhic**.” Rowan replied in the Old Language. As part of their royal studies, Aelin and Rowan required all their children to study another language. Aspen, ever his father’s twin, chose to study the old language of the Fae.

“Are Aerith and Thallan practicing fighting?” Aspen asked, in common.

“Kids, do you want to show your brother what you can do?” Rowan called to the hawks in the sky. Both birds squawked back, and dove fast for the courtyard.

“Aspen we can make fire!” Aerith squealed, mouth already moving a thousand miles per hour straight from her animal form. “Watch watch watch!”

The twins proceeded to show off their new skills proudly, while their older brother looked on happily from his perch on the wall. Aelin glanced up at the sky, watching as the sun began to dip low.

“I think it’s almost time for dinner, yeah?” Rowan asked, interrupting Aspen showing the twins a move to control wind, “Let’s head in.”

“Rachamaid ithe!” Aspen cried happily, clearly trying to show off. When Aerith gave him a confused look, he translated, “Let’s go eat!”

Inside the palace, Aelin and Rowan sat at the dinner table, taking in the scenery of all their children gathered in one place.

Lyria, ever the princess, eating prim and proper. Sam, sunk low in his seat, arms crossed sullenly as he and his older sister quipped back and forth. Aspen, speaking rapidly in the Old Language to whoever would listen. Evalin, trying to get her little sister to hold still long enough to braid her silver hair. Aerith and Thallan, subtly flicking bits of dinner at each other. 

Their family was messy and chaotic, and growing up far too quickly for her liking, but sitting there, eating dinner with all of them, Aelin wouldn’t trade them for the world. 

~~~~

a/n: i used Scottish Gaelic for the Old Language, with just google translate, so it’s likely to not be correct. if anyone speaks that language, feel free to correct me!

Uile air a dhèanamh: All done

Obair mhath, a mhic: Well done, son

[doom-dreaming]

College AU - Margaritas, Mal, and Moze

@marigold-magpie HERE IT IS AND IT’S....it got away from me. and it’s more the girls making fun of Troy than anything else, honestly. also i’ve edited and edited this and i’m still not totally happy with it, but   w h a t e v e r

(Read it here on Ao3!)

“Ooh…margaritas!” Sasha practically pounced all the way from the door to the nearest blender.

“Courtesy of your selfless donations…” Tyreen tapped her knife against the edge of each as she listed them. “We got strawberry, lime, and…” She dipped her finger into the last one. “…peach! If you want some variety.”

“Straight tequila shots?”

Tyreen snatched the bottle away from Fiona’s wandering hand. “Nuh uh. We wanna have fun, not get shitfaced. Besides…” she tilted the bottle, frowning. “Miiiight not have enough for the rest of the mix—”

“What’s up, nerds?!”

“Funny, coming from you.” Tyreen raised an eyebrow, but didn't look up from the lime she was slicing.

Gaige huffed out a half-offended sound. “At least I’m not majoring in sociology, or whatever.” She dumped her backpack beside the couch. “What’re you gonna do with that, anyway?”

“Start a cult?”

“Yeah, good luck. I’ve seen your ECHOgram, you’ve only got, like, 500 followers.”

“Compared to your…what, fifty?” Tyreen leveled a smug grin at the redhead’s pout. “Nice try.” She licked the lime juice from her fingers and waved the knife at Moze, who was still standing semi-awkwardly near the door. “Just make yourself comfy, hon. Nothin’s off-limits. Except Troy’s room, but you don’t wanna go in there, anyway.”

“Uh…speaking of Troy…“ Sasha’s voice drifted over from the couch. "He’s got more followers than both of you.” She held up her phone. “743.”

Simultaneous cries of indignance flooded the small room.

“What the FUCK—”

“How in the hell—” Gaige beelined for the couch, her drink forgotten. Without hesitation, she vaulted over the back and landed next to Sasha. “I didn’t even know he had one! Lemme see. Oh, Ty, it’s you!”

Tyreen pinched the bridge of her nose. “Drunk karaoke? Yeah…” She moodily garnished her drink and joined the rest of them. “I just don’t get how he has more…” She mellowed into grumbling as she curled up on a chair in the corner of the room. “…fucker.”

Gaige snickered, popping back to her feet to retrieve her drink. “The fatal weakness in your perfect sibling relationship, huh?”

“I’m not that jealous, I just, y’know, spend hours doing tutorials and editing the videos and he records thirty seconds of me singing 'Hey, Mama’ after a dozen shots and…” She glowered at Sasha. “You and Fi would never—”

Fiona’s loud laughter cut her off. “Oh, I definitely would.”

Sasha agreed with a disappointed nod.

Tyreen sighed. “It’s petty and it shouldn’t bother me, but…”

“But that’s why we’re here,” Fiona reminded. “To drink and bitch!”

“To drink and bitch!” the rest of them echoed, raising their glasses.

“Or just drink,” Moze piped.

Fiona smirked. “I knew I liked you.”

“I mean, I just got here and so far? No complaints.”

Gaige plopped down beside her on the floor and patted her arm. “Valid.”

“Okay, then I’ll start.” Fiona took a long drink before setting the glass carefully onto the coffee table. “So...my ex—”

A collective groan rose from the group.

“—yeah, he swore up and down that he wouldn’t start shit with Rhys, but what does he do?” She didn’t let the question hang long. “Starts shit with Rhys!”

Sasha kicked her feet up. “Guy’s a fucking asshole. I don’t know what you ever saw in him, honestly.”

“Yeah, that makes two of us. Rhys is a dumbass, but at least he’s not a lying, cheating—”

The front door of the apartment opened just loudly enough to bring the conversation to a halt. Troy shuffled in with his bag hanging off of one arm and his jacket bundled in the other, oblivious to anyone else. He kicked the door shut, abandoned his bag next to the kitchen counter, and made it halfway across the apartment before Tyreen cleared her throat.

“…what’cha got there, bro?”

“Uh…”

“You look kinda...guilty.”

“No, I, um…” He tossed his hair. Readjusted his glasses. Heaved a defeated sigh. "...it's a cat.” Sure enough, the jacket mewled.

Instant mayhem.

“A cat?!”

“Don’t get it near me! I forgot to take my allergy meds!”

“I hope you don’t want to keep it—”

“Everybody shut the fuck up, you’re scaring him.” Troy elbowed his way past his sister, toward the coffee table. “I found him around the back of the building. We don’t have to keep him, I just figured I’d get him outta the cold." He set the jacket down, pulled back a few loosely-folded layers, and extracted a wiggling orange kitten. “Buuuut…I might’ve named him already…“

“Troy…”

He tucked the kitten to his chest, looking offended. "Just for tonight, Ty, I promise. In the morning I’ll take him to the shelter—don’t look at me like that.” He grabbed his jacket from the table and turned on his heel. “I’m gonna give him a bath.”

“Troy, you know campus policy—”

“Fuck campus policy! I’m not putting him back out!” The slam of the bathroom door sounded like an exclamation mark.

“Don’t get rabies!” Sasha called after him.

“Bold of you to assume he doesn’t already have it…” Tyreen dropped her head into her hands. “Fuckin’ idiot.”

Gaige’s grin was too wide to be innocent. “Hey, Troy! What’s his name!?”

“Mal!” came the muffled reply, followed by a sharp, “Oh, shit—ow!”

“Cute!”

“Stop encouraging him,” Tyreen groaned. “I’m at least ninety percent of his impulse control and I don’t need you making things worse.” She paused, then let her head fall back with a weary sigh. “But I guess as far as breakup behavior goes, rescuing a cat is better than rebounding…”

“How bad was that breakup, anyway?”

“Lethal, based on how he’s acting.” She rubbed at her eyes. “I…shouldn’t be mean. Troy gets invested. I think he was waaaay more into it than August was—”

Sasha nearly choked on her drink.

“You good?”

She brushed off Fiona’s back-patting. “Yeah, I’m good, I’m good. Just—” cough “—went the wrong way. All good.”

“You should let him have a couple drinks with us,” Moze suggested. “Maybe—”

Four voices shouted, “No!” in unison.

“Or…not?”

Tyreen huffed. “You know how most people have an alcohol tolerance? Troy has an alcohol intolerance. That first day you met us? Yeah, he was fucking trashed ‘cause he spent the whole night trying to drown his broken heart.”

Troy’s voice drifted out from behind the bathroom door. “…I heard that!”

“It’s not a secret!” Tyreen yelled back.

Troy grumbled something inaudible, then emerged. Shirtless. The kitten squirmed inside a towel. “Little dude scratches like a motherfucker… Someone wanna hold him while I…?” He motioned to the red slices across his chest with his free hand.

Tyreen glanced around the group. Fiona was still holding her hand over her nose and mouth, shaking her head. Moze was…definitely focused on Troy’s abs. “Anyone?” Gaige and Sasha just shrugged. She narrowed her eyes. “If you’re trying to trick me into keeping this cat, I swear to God… Fine. Hand him over.”

“You don't have to make such a huge fucking deal out of it,” Troy complained.

Tyreen's glare was downright scathing. “Then apparently you don't remember the baby bird. Or the snake. Or the—”

“Yeah, okay, whatever. Just take the cat.” He pushed the towel into her hands. “I swear it's only for tonight.”

“I don't believe you…!” she sang at his retreating back. He flipped her off before shutting the bathroom door again. She rolled her eyes.

Moze's voice was the first to break the silence. “So, uh...didn't know Troy wears glasses.”

“He doesn't, usually. But—oh no, no way—” Tyreen intercepted the kitten as it made an attempt to escape. “—he's blind as shit—”

“Heard that too!”

“—and wears contacts most the time.” She cocked an eyebrow at Moze. “But be honest, that's not what you were lookin’ at.”

The younger girl's face flushed a shade darker. She stirred at her drink, mumbling, “Just didn't expect he'd be…”

“Like that?” Gaige filled in. “Yeah, I didn't expect it either the first time—” She cut herself off abruptly. “Uh.”

“The first time what...?” Sasha asked cautiously.

Tyreen rolled her eyes, aware that she was the only one not acting like Gaige had just confessed to murder. “They hooked up. It was, like, a year ago.”

“WHAT?!”

“It was at an engineering thing! We were both drunk!” Gaige shrieked in an attempt to defend herself. “Neither of us remember anything about it! It just sorta..." She gestured helplessly. "We woke up with, like, half our clothes on the floor and honestly I wouldn't have believed anything happened except I had dried c—”

“OH MY GOD, SHUT THE FUCK UP!” Troy yelled. “Literally no one needs to know the details!”

“Yeah, I'm with him on that,” Sasha admitted, her expression sour.

Tyreen attempted to hide a snicker behind her hand. Her unoccupied hand. The hand that wasn't scratching the kitten behind the ears. “The only reason I found out was ‘cause as soon as he got back and had his head in the toilet, he started cryin’ about it—”

Troy stalked out of the bathroom, scowling. “I was not crying—”

“You were crying and puking and—”

“And now I'm leaving. Gimme the cat—wait, are you petting—?”

“Shut up. Take him.” The kitten, lulled by Tyreen's attention, gave a confused ‘mrrrp?’ as he was roused by yet another handoff. “Go...listen to some music or something.”

“So you can tell more lies about me? I see how it is.”

“Oh my God, would you just take your emotional support animal and go, already? Please?”

“C'mon, Mal,” Troy sniffed. “We don't need them anyway.”

Tyreen gulped down the rest of her drink as he disappeared into his room, half in an attempt to not snark back at him and half in an attempt to get buzzed. “Anyone want refills?” she sighed once he closed the door.

Fiona silently raised her empty glass.

“You know, you're the only one here with a brother,” Gaige mused.

“And ain't I lucky,” Tyreen drawled, taking Fiona's glass and slouching back into the kitchen. “I mean...I love him, obviously. But he's a pain in the ass.” She paused, cocking her head toward his bedroom door. “Okay, I think we're good. He can't hear us. What'd you have, Fi? Lime?”

“Yep.”

“So...should I or should I not try to...y'know.” Moze clicked her tongue and nodded in the direction of Troy's room.

“If you wanna go out with my brother, you have my blessing. Or...whatever. But...maybe don't go for the kill immediately? Give him some time. Get to know him first.”

“More like know what you're getting into,” Gaige joked.

“I...think I've got a pretty good idea.”

Tyreen tuned them out and took another long drink of her margarita. Troy's follower count was starting to make sense.

****** @corpseyb0nes @afterthedreamer @mischiefsilvertongue @tricerathotss @vanderlinde-exe @ayilachan @zipp0flare @luxury-of-insanity @vanillabuttercreamm @anni000001 @imchaoticnerd @pepper-demon 

[galfridus1]

Have some Pokemon fun for the content creators server’s NNT AU day. Thanks @nerroart for collaborating on this with me and producing this amazing art here! It was so much fun working with you. Let’s do it again!

For @princessfroslass and @okamideimos - your enthusiasm for the NNT Pokemon AU is infectious.

The sun shone warm, golden rays heating their backs and the skin on their arms. It had rained overnight and the world smelled fresh, everything practically bursting with colour. The sky was bright blue and the cobbled streets shone a little as they wove through the legs of the buyers and merchants, laughing as they dodged the citizens of Liones. It was a nice day at the very peak of midsummer, and Howzer and Gilthunder felt happy to be alive.

A shadow fell over them and Howzer looked up, the grin sliding from his face as he saw the Magical Research Building. It was so huge, a towering structure that dominated the skyline. His father had said something about how you could tell who was in power from the height the buildings. First the guild headquarters had soared over the huts and cottages of Liones, then the churches had risen with enormous spires that dwarfed these buildings. Now it was the mage who scared almost everyone, her massive laboratory drawing the eyes of all who walked through the streets of the kingdom.

“I hear she does weird experiments in there.” Howzer puffed up his chest, pleased for once to have intelligence to share with Gilthunder. As the lowly son of a struggling blacksmith, Howzer did not often get to know the court gossip which his friend seemed to come across almost constantly. But the previous day he had been… borrowing a bun from the kitchens and had overheard the cook discussing the mage with the butler. “She even has demon artefacts,” he said with a whisper, glancing eagerly at Gilthunder to watch his reaction.

He found the other’s unimpressed look extremely disappointing. “Of course she does,” Gilthunder said with a shrug. “She’s the mage. Lady Merlin has to carry out research into everything. She even has a collection of Pokémon…”

“She does?” Howzer interrupted, incredulously. “Wow! I bet she has some real rare ones. Do you think she has a Mew, or a Yvetal, or…”

“How do you know so much about Pokémon all of a sudden?” Gilthunder stopped in his tracks and it took Howzer a few seconds to also draw to a halt. He turned a little nervously to see his friend looking at him with an unnerving interest, piercing blue eyes peering into his own.

He decided to tell the truth. “I… have a team of Pokémon,” Howzer admitted as his eyes dropped to the floor and he shuffled his feet on the stone path. “I’ve been collecting them for a few months now.”

“No way! So have I!”

Howzer looked back up at Gilthunder in surprise. A soft wind was blowing, bringing with it the scent of rosemary and thyme and ruffling his friend’s mop of magenta hair. The small boy continued, a gleeful grin on his face, “How about a match? I’ve got a new Pokémon I want to try out. Think you can take me on?”

Howzer swallowed hard. Truth be told he did not relish the prospect of a fight whatsoever. The fun of Pokémon was collecting and caring for them, finding the rare ones in the long, swishing grass and carefully catching them in red and white pokéballs. He did not enjoy seeing them fight. In fact, he only really used one of his partners, and that was so he could weaken the wild Pokémon he came across so that they could be caught more easily. But Gilthunder was looking at him so eagerly that Howzer felt he could not refuse.

“Um… sure. Why not?”

Gilthunder whooped for joy and grabbed Hozwer’s arm, pulling him towards the gate in the city walls, jabbering nineteen to the dozen as they sped through the streets. “I love how they change when they get stronger,” Gilthunder enthused. “I’ve been training my Helioptile for ages and I think it’s about to evolve! And you wouldn’t believe how cool my Dedenne is now. It just learned Volt Switch, which is such a great move! The one I’m going to show you today is just the best…” Howzer bit his lip, hard. Evidently his friend had been really training his Pokémon hard.

Eventually the boys slipped through the gate, giving a cheery wave to the Holy Knights as they passed. They made their way towards the neighbouring fields, the chirp of birdsong and the rustling and buzzing of insects growing louder as they moved away from the city. The animals were joyous, celebrating the good weather and the abundance of food, but Howzer could feel his heart growing heavier which each step they took. Gilthunder was practically skipping as their feet left stone for dirt, kicking up dust with their shoes as they neared the clearing where Pokémon fights took place.

Panic gripped Howzer’s chest. “Say, Gil?” he called to the boy who had hopped to the other end of the field and was detaching a pokéball from his belt. “I looks close to noon already. Maybe we should each fight with just one Pokémon, yeah? That way we can get back for lunch.”

“Awww!” Howzer hardly dared breathe. Gilthunder sounded pretty disappointed. “I wanted to show you all of my party,” the boy added with a bit of a pout. “But yeah, I guess you’re right. And I wanted to train with Sir Meliodas this afternoon. He told me yesterday he’s got a Rayquaza! I can’t wait to see it! Well, alright. Here we go. Mareep, I choose you!” As Gilthunder spoke, the pokéball in his hand opened a crack, red mist rising from the depths to pool and swirl round his legs. Howzer watched as the vapour started to take shape, forming an animal with four, stumpy legs, a fluffy body and two pointed ears. The sheep stood squarely on the ground, looking at Howzer with daggers for eyes, blue flashes of lightning cracking over its pelt.

With difficulty, Howzer took a pokéball from his own belt, his fingers fumbling with the clasp. Sweat beaded his hands, impeding his movements and he cursed under his breath as he nearly dropped his prize. He snuck another quick look at the Mareep standing opposite and could see from its aggressive stance that it meant business. His own Pokémon did not stand a chance.

“Farfetch’d, I choose you.” Once more red mist crept over the battlefield, crimson whorls swirling in the air. As his Pokémon materialised, shaking itself, chest puffed out with pride, Howzer heard a snort from the other side of the field. He looked up to see Gilthunder clutching his sides, face bright red as he attempted to stifle his laughter.

“What is that thing?” his friend cried as he broke out into fits of giggles. “What even… I mean… it’s carrying a leek! Is it telling us what to eat with it for dinner?”

Howzer felt his face flush red as the laughter continued, the blush pushing down into his neck. “Your Pokémon looks pretty stupid, too,” he muttered angrily as the laughter continued.

At once, Gilthunder’s face turned dark. “How could you?” he yelled as the Mareep’s fur sparked angrily. “This beauty,” he emphasised, his voice laced with hurt, “evolves into an Ampharos. An Ampharos, Howzer,” Gilthunder added as if he were talking to an imbecile. “It is one of the rarest and most powerful Pokémon in this part of the world. And this Mareep is going to show your bird what for! Why have you been bothering with that thing anyway?”

Howzer grit his teeth and did not respond. Farfetch’d was the most useful Pokémon he had. He had been overjoyed to find a TM, conveniently hiding in a log in the woods. The Technical Machine would teach a compatible partner to use False Swipe, the best move available for catching wild Pokémon. At the time, the only companion he had who could learn the technique was the Farfetch’d he had managed to trap down by the river. Once the duck had mastered this move, Howzer had used it and it only in every single fight, deploying False Swipe time after time. The move was perfect for catching as it ensured that he drained the health of the opposing Pokémon without causing them to fall into a faint. He had been so very pleased, his eye on the prize of completing his pokédex, but it was perhaps not the best strategy to prepare for trainer battles.

“Let’s go. Mareep, use Electo Ball!” Gilthunder smiled as huge spheres of light flew from the sheep. The fast, golden orbs raced over the field, the static charge causing the hairs to stand on the back of Hozwer’s neck. But he grinned broadly as Gilthunder yelled in surprise, biting back laughter as his friend’s head jerked left and right, searching in vain for the odd-looking duck.

But of course it was nowhere to be seen. A moment later, a feathered bomb fell from the sky, dropping like a heavy stone. The Farfetch’d hurtled through the air, aiming straight for Mareep’s head. Under his breath, Howzer had ordered it to use Fly, and it had immediately soared upwards, avoiding the sheep’s electric attack. As the duck’s palmate feet made contact, Mareep bleated in surprise, and it fell to the ground with a bump as its legs slipped from under it. Gilthunder practically roared, but then regained his composure as the sheep got hesitatingly back up onto its hooves.

“Are you okay?” Gilthunder asked softly, and his jaw set with determination as the sheep gave a defiant baa in return. “Great. Then use Thunderbolt.” At once, sheets of electricity rolled across the field, zapping the Farfetch’d before it could dodge. The duck gave an indignant quack as the lightning hit, and Howzer squeaked, wincing as he smelled burning feathers.

“Farfetch’d!” the duck croaked. It waddled back towards Howzer, its eyes seeming to glow red. It was livid, furious, beyond peeved. The wild Pokémon round Liones were not a high level and the battles the duck had experienced did not usually leave much of a mark. It was clearly not happy with the current arrangement, and Howzer could practically taste its anger on the air.

“It’s okay, I’ve got an idea,” Howzer whispered and, grudgingly, the duck moved closer towards him. As Howzer explained, it nodded its head, then turned to face the Mareep once more. “Use Double Team,” Howzer commanded and Farfetch’d quacked with joy as it duplicated itself. Soon there were dozens of birds on the field and Howzer felt his spirits rise. “Deal with that!” he yelled in triumph over the noise of the ducks, who were all quacking loudly as they swished their leeks back and forth. “You won’t find the real one.”

But Gilthunder did not look as if he had even broken a sweat. “We got this! Mareep, use Discharge!” Tens of little bolts shot from the Mareep’s fluffy coat, each one aiming for a different duck. As the rays hit their targets, one by one the bodies of the false birds flickered then faded to nothing. The Mareep was relentless, sending flash after flash towards each of the clones until there were only a few Farfetch’d scattered across the field. With a baa of triumph, the Mareep sent another handful of bolts over the terrain, one smashing into Howzer’s partner with an almighty crack. The duck screamed in pain, flapping its wings furiously and throwing its beak into the air and its leek unceremoniously onto the ground.

Howzer ran to his Farfetch’d at once. “I’m sorry,” he murmured as he tried to stroke the duck’s feathers. But his Pokémon was having none of it. With a huff, it tried to snap at Howzer’s fingers, before stomping towards its end of the battlefield, its tufted tail shaking from side to side as it moved. “Farfetch’d,” Howzer called desperately as his duck kept walking away, “come back! We have to finish this fight!” Howzer felt his heart sink as Farfetch’d ignored him, pointedly. He turned reluctantly back to Gilthunder, who stood with his back ramrod straight and his hand lightly resting on the Mareep at his side.

“The match is over,” Gilthunder gloated as he looked over at the duck, which had its back turned to the rest of them and was clearly in a black sulk. “You know what your problem is?” the boy continued to explain. “Your Pokémon is too powerful for you. It’s too high a level for a trainer who hasn’t beaten any gym masters. If you want it to listen to you, you need to earn its respect.”

“What do you know?” Howzer pressed his lips together, taking deep gulps of air to try and calm the sudden lump that rose in his throat. He loved Farfetch’d, really and truly. They had spent so many months together catching Pokémon, delving into tall grass and fishing in the river, and he had assumed the bird felt exactly the same. Now, he was faced with a painful alternate reality, one that he was totally unwilling to accept. “We’re still in. Both of us,” Howzer declared as he stared at Gilthunder with determined eyes.

Gilthunder hesitated, then took several paces across the field. “Howzer,” he said gently, “are you sure about this. It’s okay to give up, I promise I won’t make fun of you,” he added seriously.

“No! We’re still in. Farfetch’d use False Swipe,” Howzer yelled in the direction of the duck. The bird spun around, then stalked towards him and Howzer felt relief flood his senses and blood pound in his ears. His partner was going to listen to him after all.

Seeing the duck’s movement, Gilthunder exclaimed, “Use Confuse Ray,” as he ran back towards his Mareep. The sheep stood up on its hind legs and opened its mouth, just as the Farfetch’d sat in a heap on the ground, its leek lying on the floor beside it. “No stop!” Gilthunder screamed on seeing the bird’s disobedience, but his command came too late. A stream of purple shot from the sheep’s mouth, lighting up the surrounding grass with a mulberry haze as it headed straight towards Farfetch’d at a frightening pace.

Howzer acted without thought. Quick as a flash he dived between the pulse of power and the duck. The beam of light hit him square in the chest and Howzer staggered back, shaking his head as he tried to stay upright. The world was suddenly blurry and everything was wrong, the sky shining vermillion below him as he stumbled on magenta cloud.  

“You’re not allowed to do that!” Howzer heard the voice through a bank of fog, and he strained to understand the meaning of the words. “You’re not allowed to take hits for your Pokémon!” the whiny voice continued, but Howzer found he did not care what it was saying. He stood up on shaky legs, tilting his head up to the sky as familiar objects floated down towards him.

“Cakes!” Howzer jumped up and down trying to catch the confections which dropped like rain through the sweet-smelling air. “There’s strawberry! My favourite,” Howzer said enthusiastically, his mouth watering as he spied piles of cream and fruit. Farfetch’d liked cream, too... This last thought brought Howzer back to himself a little. “You’re wrong about Farfetch’d,” he slurred through his daze. “It’s an amazing Pokémon and I love it and it’s the best partner ever so there!”

As Howzer stumbled over the ground, his tongue lolling slightly and his eyes glazed, the Farfetch’d heard his defiant words. Slowly, carefully, the bird got to its feet, dusting itself off and retrieving its leek, tucking the prized vegetable under its arm. It waddled towards its master, purpose in every step, until it was close enough to peck at the boy. Then it launched itself into the air, landing a hard hit on Howzer’s head with the green end of its leek.

Howzer groaned, cradling his head in his hands as the world righted itself. He felt dizzy, sick and shocked, as if he had been doused in cold water. A quack of “Farfetch’d!” brought him back to his senses. He looked down as his vision stabilised to see his partner standing before him, its beak apparently curved in a smile.

“You want to fight?” Howzer asked and the duck quacked in response, waving its leek in the air to show its agreement. Howzer looked over to Gilthunder, whose head was cocked to one side, and grinned to see his friend’s answering nod. “Okay then!” he exclaimed. “Then would you use False Swipe, please?” he asked the duck, which flapped its wings and rushed straight towards the Mareep.

The sheep gave a bleat as the duck’s blow landed, and it wobbled unsteadily on its feat for several seconds. When it had steadied itself, the sheep pawed at the dirt and sent out the energy of Thunderbolt in response to Gilthunder’s command.

“Dodge it!” Howzer yelled, and he felt his heart sing with joy as his Farfetch’d listened to him without demure. The bird rose into the air, weaving easily through the streaks of power as the lightning tried to catch it, effectively evading the Mareep’s attack. “You’re awesome!” Howzer called and the bird nodded in response, saluting the boy with its leek as it flew past its master, not even one feather out of place.

“Now hit it with Fury Attack,” Howzer commanded. Instantly the bird rounded on the sheep, smacking its leek over and over into the Mareep’s body. Of the five blows it landed, two hit with incredible force. “Critical hit!” Howzer yelled as the duck let forth a quack. The Mareep staggered, then fell, it’s legs sprawling under it as its eyes were replaced with swirls of black. The sheep was out cold, and unable to fight. Gilthunder murmured softly as his Pokémon returned to its ball. Against all the oods, Farfetch’d had won the match.

“You did really well, both of you.”

Howzer straightened up from where he had been kneeling so as to spray Farfetch’d with a hyper potion. Gilthunder held out his hand, a happy smile on his face, but Howzer hesitated. As if reading his mind, Gilthunder continued, “It doesn’t matter that you took the Confuse Ray, I think you won fair and square. And you’re right, Farfetch’d is amazing. I’m sorry I was rude. The match is yours.” Gilthunder stretched out his hand a bit more, and this time Howzer took it, the pair moving their arms up and down in celebration of their friendship.

“You were right too, I need to respect my Pokémon,” Howzer said as the boys walked back to the city, Farfetch’d marching along at their heels. “I’m going to train and battle and win them over.” The bird squarked at this and tapped Howzer’s leg with its leek, and the pair exchanged glances, understanding passing between them.

“Then come and battle Sir Meliodas with me,” Gilthunder urged excitedly. “We’ll get stronger together.” With a whoop, the two boys ran back to the city, Farfetch’d flying behind them as they chattered and laughed.

[hexyz09]

The Magic Within

Disclaimer: Yeah! This is…well…mine, I guess? I mean, the Chapter and Character’s are mine, obviously, but it’s more of a gift for a friend that really likes my writing, since he set the general theme…at least, I think it was the theme…or was it setting? Hmm, what a conundrum this is, but I’m pretty sure I gut my point across. That aside! Here!

   Beta Chapter 1: The Breakfast Crusade

  It was a beautiful day outside. Birds are singing, flowers are blooming, and on days like this…he really wished his friends would stop turning his kitchen into hell. Feeling something prodding at toes, rustic eyes stared down at a small marshmallow unicorn, stabbing him with its horn made of chocolate.

He splattered it under his heel, taking a sadistic sense of satisfaction as it’s whinnied cries of blood were snuffed from existence. He’d have to wipe the remains off his foot later, but for now, he cast a quick glance around. Gingerbread Men were waging war in his sink, using bowls as ships while they took a stab at each other with sharpened candy canes.

More of those Marshmallow Unicorns were dashing about the floor, trying to skewer each other with their horns…or at the very least, try very hard at accidentally turning the Gummy Bears riding them into pincushions.

He didn’t bother to comment on the Dragons made of vanilla frosting and sprinkles perched on his ceiling fan. Or the fact that they somehow hiccupped fire…for now.  He cared more for the familiar scent of melted cheese and hot sauce hidden under the sickening number of sugar-coated layers.

“Don! Mind helping?!”.He ignored the cry of help mixed with chomping teeth. Breakfast comes first. “O-oi! Where are you going?!”

To the sink.

Briskly walking through his kitchen, he kicked through whatever sweet abomination dared to try and obstruct his path. That, or crushed under the balls of his feet, if they were lucky. For now though, he stopped by shelves and propped one open.

Don was greeted with a screeching monkey leaping towards him, banana in hand.

He swatted it aside with the back of his hand, tearing right through the monkey and revealing it’s cakey insides. The screams of “George” and sadistic cackles of “Yeeeesssss~~”  did little to gather his attention, even if it draw out an amused chuckle or two. The third would be denied though, as his amusement died with his ability to find his plate.

Closing the cabinet, he took a careful whiff in the air, before scrunching up his face in distaste. The sugary aroma that poisoned the room was stronger near the sink than by the doorway, and he couldn’t pick up the trail of gouda anywhere. ‘…I’m too tired to even get angry right now.’

Rubbing the bridge of his nose, he turned towards the obstacle blocking his sight of the living room. “Rei, do you know what happened to my plate?”

She didn’t even turn to his voice, preferring to continue with her current activity. Grinning in sadistic amusement as her brother tried chomping at his opposition in excited fervor. ‘Though if pointed out, he’d probably deny it.’ She did, however, return his gaze after something was crunched on behind him. Considering  the bemusement in Rei’s brown eyes, and Ko’s muffled giggles, her brother didn’t need to try and devour his opposition anymore. However, she didn’t respond, and only continued petting the grey kitten purring lazily on her lap. Her smile widening, just a tad as a look of expectation crossed her eyes.

Don couldn’t help but let a smile touch his lips. “…So, I see you won again.”

Her expression turned dismissive in almost an instant, as if what he said was as natural as breathing. Though, of course, with her lips twitching like that, he could tell she was trying to quash down the urge to brag.

“It was only natural after all,” She waved him off, voice light and airy, with a ting of budding joy. “He honestly thought he could best me in the kitchen.” Huffing in mock indignation, Rei finally let a small grin slip. “And…well, I suppose the result of his challenge is as you see.” Yes, he could clearly see the surgery pastries destroying his kitchen.

“I let you win!!” Ko was quick to rebate her claim though, as always.

Rei dismissed it with a wave of her hand. “Keep telling yourself that brother. Maybe one day, I’ll grant you enough pity to allow you a modicum of a chance to defeat me in your dreams.”

“I will!”

…Rei’s response to that was to look at Ko as if he was a very special kind of idiot. And for a moment, Don was inclined to agree, since said idiot was strapped to the fridge with blue licorice being poked and prodded by gingerbread men. Only for a moment though, as he quickly splattered another Unicorn under his heel.

“Mind telling me how my kitchen ended up War of the Sweets?” And for the first time since he woke up, Rei flushed, red dusting her cheeks in either embarrassment, or shame. Probably both, considering she let Ko rile her up to this point.

Luckily, or Unluckily enough, considering the stink eye Rei’s growing, her brother chimed in his two cents. “It all started with a Breakfast Burrito!”

Yeah. Nope. Not dealing with that. How they went from that to…wait…

Brows furrowing, Don turned to face the instigator of this little war, and was matched with a smug, almost mocking grin if he didn’t know the runt well enough. Unfortunately, he did…and, well, Don didn’t really know what to think at the moment. “I thought you hated spicy dishes.” Granted, Siracha wasn’t really spicy, but apparently Ko’s tongue was much too sensitive for it.

His grin vanished as fast as it came, shrinking into a nervous frown. “I still don’t…but…well, today might as well be an exception.” Feeling his gaze grow, Ko turned to the side with a huff, preferring to try and chew his way to freedom instead of explaining, so Don turned to someone who would.

Rei simply wriggled her fingers, and pointed right back at Ko, a soft grin touching her lips, instead of her usual mocking or teasing smile. A majority of Ko’s body was blocked by pastries waging war on the cabinets, so he went around, eyes passing over the trash can on the way, littered with eggshells and burnt onions slices.

Ko seemed to try and stretch his neck harder in order to reach the licorice binding him so. He failed miserably,  and Don kicked away the gingerbread men crowding around him. He made quick note of Ko’s fingers…and, well, couldn’t figure out what to think, but, seeing the expression on the boy’s face, he patted Ko’s head, causing him to stiffen up from the touch.

Though Don made sure to make known that he didn’t like the kitty bandages littering his hand. “Please just leave the cooking to Rei and I.”

Ko’s response was to try and kick him. Try, being the keyword, since it was more of a pouting nudge then a kick. It made him laugh inside none the less, though none of it was mocking. He patted Ko’s head again just for the added reaction, and caught Rei nudging her nose while tilted her chin up.

He followed her gaze, and stared at the Frosting Dragons belching small streams of fire, which in itself was odd, but…nose twitching, he caught the faint aroma of Siracha sauce, and blinked, putting the odd abomination together. ‘…really Ko? Must you be so dramatic?’ He really wanted to laugh right now, cause it was nowhere near spicy enough to warrant that sort of reaction.

Rei felt no such restraint though, giggling up a storm much to his amusement, and her brother’s flushed mortification.  With a wave of his hand, Don mumbled something under his breath, wisps of black seeping from his fingertips as they curled in the air.

With a flick of his wrist, the wisps shot forward, phasing into the Frosting Dragons before they could even react. It took a couple seconds, but their white coating soon faded to an ominous purple, traces of black smoke whisping from their nozzles as their previous rainbow sprinkled eyes gleamed a deep ruby.

The action seemed to freeze the other living sweets in their tracks, as if entranced with what Don had just done. They ran for cover soon after, when with another flick of his wrist, as if pulled down by gravity, the dragons rocketed against ceramic, splattering bits of black and red all over the counter.

Ko rolled his eyes at what he’d deem “needlessly dramatic” while Rei was no doubt pouting that he didn’t try playing with the Dragons first. But…here’s the thing.

Don didn’t play with his food, and he showed this by swiping away the frosting and sprinkles to grab the foiled burritos hidden within, still warm and ready to eat all things considered. “…It’s a light snack. For you to eat before your Exam starts, I mean.” Ko muttered under his breath. “You were up late last night…and, well, since its spicy and all, it’ll give you both the kick to stay up, and the energy to…continue?”

Don honestly wondered why Ko phrased that as a question, but first, a misconception to correct. “Siracha isn’t Spicy!”

“It’s Spicy!” And as if it was an ingrained response, Ko rebutted his words.

“Or maybe you just have a week tongue,” Rei snickered, wanting to chime in her two cents.

Before an argument could commence…again, Don bopped Ko’s head silencing him. He looked up at him with indignation. “Rei’s too far right now,” He stated bluntly, quieting Ko’s irritation. After all, the key words are “right now”.

No need to leave one of the two unpunished for destroying his kitchen…but first, he slipped two of the three burritos into his coat with a smile. Whether it tasted good or not didn’t…well, it definitely mattered, but the fact that Ko, dramatic lazy ass extraordinaire, forced himself out of bed to make Don one of his own special recipes, despite his apparent hatred for anything spicy…was…well, touching. Annoying, since he wasted a lot of eggs doing it, and who knows what else, but touching none the less.

He didn’t even need to bother wondering if Rei made anything for him either, considering how she failed to hide that glint of silver behind her pet.

If he believed in Luck, would these count as Charms? Probably…but with this type of exam, Luck was not a factor.

Eyes drifting flickering towards Rei’s neck, a familiar band of white made him all too aware of the same coiled around his own and Ko’s. Trial Order’s, they were called, made to be placed on a child upon birth, and to assess their growth and magical potential up to the age of 18, where a decision will be made.

He wasn’t worried for Rei. She was a bright child, one always ready to lend a helping hand, no matter who it was. Even if she has a mischievous streak due to her brother, she’ll have a bright future set ahead, there’s no doubt about it.

Ko…ko…he…wouldn’t follow after his sister, as much as Don would have liked him too. Ko understands that much as well, and he couldn’t help but hate that the kid does.

These things assess more than a person’s magical potential, but the very boundary they’ll stand on in the future, where it’d be good or bad. It marks a person’s place in the world, based on their view of it, and judges possible routes he or she would take.

A Scrying Ball to tell someone’s future, basically, made from probabilities and magical analytics. He already knew where his future would go, so these gifts would be useless in changing that…but, they were nice all the same. They reminded him, that even if things went south, there would still be people who cared for him, and would stick by him...even if he wasn’t sure doing the same would be the best for them.

Because, even if hope was dead in this world, he would do so all the same, not for himself…but for the two runts who still have their futures going for them.

[zdbztumble]

“The Lady of the Lure”

The freshly-paved walkway was free of litter and grime. The shops and stands on either side did fair business, but the street wasn't crowded. Laughter, idle chatter, and the trills and growls of Pokémon rang all around him, and one didn't need to be a Connoisseur to detect the salt in the air blown in from the Cape.

Cilan had visited many wonderful places since arriving in Kanto, but Cerulean City was making a very favorable impression on him. All the Pokémon he had never seen before were fascinating, and Cilan felt himself nearly bursting as he picked up a hundred different flavors from the creatures and their Trainers.

He sat down on a small bench near the street corner to consult his map. Cerulean was hardly the largest city he'd ever visited, but nothing other than the Pokémon Center was a familiar location to him yet. Two young boys sat on the other end of the bench, bent over a teardrop-shaped badge that the ruby-haired lad with the Oddish held in his hands.

"Pretty cool, huh?" he told his friend. "It's my third badge."

"Awesome! I can't believe you already beat three Gym Leaders!" Cilan chuckled softly to himself. It was always charming, the enthusiasm of beginners.

"Well, I beat two of them," the badge winner said, "but this badge wasn't that hard. You could probably go to the gym now and get one. She just gave it to me."

The freshly-paved walkway had its first piece of litter: Cilan's crumpled map. Fists trembling, he bit his cheek to try and keep his temper in check as he turned toward the boys.

"Young man," he asked as calmly as he could manage, "where is this city's gym?"

---

"Very good, Azurill!" Misty cheered.

"Azu!" her little mouse trilled. In her excitement, she launched herself forward and Slammed the target again. Misty giggled and pulled her little polka dot into her arms.

"You're going to be the greatest Pokémon in the whole world," she told Azurill. "And that was a very good thing you did today, helping me and that little boy find his lost Pidgey." Technically, Politoed had found the Pidgey, but Azurill had cleaned it up with her Water Gun. And she'd been a bright and welcome presence through what had been a long and horrible morning. That poor little boy had been beside himself with worry, and it had taken them hours to find his bird. It was only fifteen minutes ago that Misty made it back to the gym from their search.

A loud slam sounded through the halls, as if someone had kicked open the main doors. Heavy footsteps marched toward the arena. Misty watched in shock as a lanky, mint-haired young man stormed in with total fury written across his face.

"I DEMAND TO SEE THE GYM LEADER!" he yelled.

Misty frowned at his tone, but she stood to meet him. "Can I help you?"

"You can explain your inexcusable behavior!" the man fumed, leaping toward her with a finger raised in indignation. "It is the sacred duty of a Gym Leader to defend his or her gym, challenge trainers, and prepare them for the competition that awaits them! To just give away badges without any effort is an absolute disgrace! I've seen some irresponsible behavior before, but I will not tolerate such gross negligence of -"

"HEY!" Misty took a good amount of satisfaction in how quickly her lecturer recoiled. With the day she'd had so far, she was not about to put up with this nonsense.

"For your information, whoever you are," she barked, advancing on the man, "next to Saffron, the Cerulean Gym is the toughest in the Indigo League! The only reason someone might get a badge for free is if the real Gym Leader - me - had to spend all day helping some kid find their lost Pokémon and had to leave my lazy no-good sisters in charge! And when I get my hands on them -"

"We're home!" Daisy's sing-song voice called out. She, Lily, and Violet walked into the arena, their arms strewn with shopping bags.

"Geez, Misty. We could totally hear you from outside," said Lily. "What's with all the screaming?"

"Yeah. Did your little boyfriend finally come home?" Violet teased. For once, Misty ignored that bait.

"Why are you giving gym badges away again?" she screamed at them. The man backed even further away, but her sisters hardly seemed fazed. Daisy looked confused.

"Huh?" she said. "We didn't give any...wait."

She rounded on Lily, a scowl on her face. "You told me you'd, like, battle that kid or something!"

"He came in right before we were supposed to leave for our manicure!" Lily whined. "We would have been, like, late!"

"But now we're never gonna hear the end of this!"

Lily sighed. "Whatever. Did you see this top I picked out?" The three of them walked off, bickering over whose new clothes were the cutest. Misty sighed in exasperation, wondering for the millionth time whether they were really related.

"Miss?"

She whirled around, ready to keep up the fight, but her visitor didn't seem up for it any more. He held his hands before him and hung his head, contrite. For the first time since he came in, Misty noticed how well-dressed he was, and his kind leaf-green eyes.

"Please accept my apologies," he said. "It was wrong of me to rush to conclusions. I would never wish to besmirch the reputation of a fellow gym leader."

Misty was tempted to lay into him some more; he'd made some pretty big, and pretty wrong assumptions. But she knew that if she ever visited a gym that was run by people like her sisters, she'd probably have something to say about it too.

"It's alright," she said, and meant it. "So - 'fellow gym leader,' huh?"

The man smiled and bowed. "Allow me to introduce myself properly. I'm Cilan, leader of the Striaton City Gym in Unova!"

"Nice to meet you, Cilan," Misty smiled. "I'm Misty."

"The pleasure's all mine, Misty!" he smiled back. But he quickly turned curious. A hand on his chin, he leaned in close, fixing a tightly focused stare on Misty. She wasn't afraid, but she did lean back.

"Um...is there something on my face?" she asked. Cilan didn't answer right away, but kept staring.

"You haven't ever visited our gym, have you?" he finally asked. Misty shook her head. "Have you ever traveled through Unova?"

"Uh...no. Why?"

"It's strange. I could swear I've seen you somewhere before." He finally backed away, but he kept his hand on his chin in an inquisitive pose.

"Sorry, but I've never been that far from home," Misty said. She was also sure she wouldn't forget meeting someone this...eccentric. "You might be thinking of my sisters. They're the world-famous actress-models." Cilan shrugged. "So if you're a Gym Leader in Unova, what are you doing all the way in Cerulean City?"

"Actually, my brothers and I run the gym together. They defend it now while I pursue my dreams as a Pokémon Connoisseur!"

"Connoisseur?" Misty frowned, tilting her head to the side. Connoisseur...why does that sound familiar?

"I take it you're unfamiliar?" she nodded. "Well, to make up for my outburst earlier, I would be happy to provide a demonstration. Bring out any one of your Pokémon, and I'll give you a world-class evaluation!"

"Oh, that's right! Connoisseurs look at the bonds between Trainers and their Pokémon!" Misty had never met a Connoisseur before, but she had read about one of their conferences in a magazine not too long ago. That wasn't why the term sounded familiar, but Misty didn't dwell on that. "Well, my little Azurill and I have been training a lot lately, and I'd love it if -"

One of the Pokéballs on her belt began to rattle, and Psyduck burst out from it. "Psy," he moaned.

"Psyduck!" Misty moaned herself. "You don't need to pop out every time someone new comes to visit!"

"Psy?"

"Fascinating!" Cilan was kneeling down in front of Psyduck, eyeballing the dope with a giant magnifying glass.

"That's one way to put it," Misty sighed. "Alright. We can do the evaluation with -"

The ground shook beneath them, and they heard an explosion outside.

---

When the Earth had ceased its shaking, they ran outside. Up the path, fire and smoke rose from where the Center of Better Feeling was, and screams filled the air. Such tumult was rare anymore, but Psyduck remembered much of it from the time of travel. He could never understand what all the chaos was about, but such moments had made existence interesting. And now, as he waddled after Mistress and the Foresthead visitor, he was grateful that Mistress had been in too much haste to return him to his chambers.

The Center of Better Feeling no longer had a door. In its place was a big metal thing on wheels, which was breathing out the smoke. A large shape of red was on the side of the thing, a shape Psyduck recognized.

"Team Rocket!" Foresthead cried out when he saw it.

"You know Team Rocket, Cilan?" Mistress asked.

Foresthead nodded. "They came to my home!" he growled. Or, at least that was what his growls seemed to mean. Foresthead seemed fond of long words, and Psyduck couldn't make sense of them all.

On top of the metal thing stood two Rockets. Not the Js of old and Meowth of many tongues, though Psyduck did know these two. They were the other Rockets, green and gold, with the black clothes and the crueler dispositions. It seemed they had come to claim all the Pokémon in the Center; indeed, the green one had a net slung over his shoulder full of chambers. They busied themselves with what they called a "motto," not a word of which Psyduck understood, while Mistress and Foresthead stood by and glowered. Mistress and her friends never liked mottos, and it struck Psyduck as strange that they always waited for them to finish, but that seemed to be the convention.

"You creeps aren't getting away with any Pokémon!" yelled Mistress as she reached for a chamber. "Misty calls Starmie!" Eightstar came forward, tall and proud.

"Go, my precious Pansage!" Foresthead threw a chamber of his own, and a small head of broccoli with big ears emerged. The Rockets laughed and sent forward their own Pokémon, a red-nosed yena-dog and the hound-machine.

"Starmie, Hydro Pump!" Mistress commanded. Eightstar, as always, made sense of the order in a way Psyduck never could, and let loose exactly the sort of pressurized water that did well in battles. It hit the yena-dog square in the chest, though it didn't appear to do much damage. Foresthead gave a command as well. Psyduck couldn't say what it was, but it involved the broccoli summoning rocks, and those seemed to hurt more.

Commands were called, attacks were exchanged, but it wasn't long before Psyduck lost track of the back-and-forth of the battle. Of more interest was the way Mistress directed the battle. Seeing Mistress ally with another Master was another thing that had become rare since the days of travel ended. It wasn't always a successful technique, but Foresthead seemed to make a good partner. Psyduck wasn't sure just what the commands he and Mistress gave meant, but Eightstar and the broccoli did. One would fire at the Rockets' Pokémon while the other attacked from the other side, or one would shield the other. Mistress and Foresthead didn't spend time discussing the best course of action, but their commands coordinated well all the same. In fact, Psyduck struggled to recall when he had seen Mistress do so well with a partner. A partner who wasn't her Ashboy, of course.

"Can you distract them?" Foresthead suddenly asked. Mistress nodded and leapt onto Eightstar's back. The two of them buzzed around the protesting Rockets, while the broccoli charged at their Pokémon and led them down the street in chase. Foresthead somehow grew a fishing rod from a pen and cast it toward the net of chambers. His hook snared the mesh, and with a hard yank, Foresthead tore the net open, sending chambers spilling everywhere. The Rockets weren't pleased, but Mistress let out a small cheer.

A yelp caught Psyduck's ear. The broccoli was speeding back toward him, the Rockets' Pokémon directly behind. He seemed distressed.

"Psyduck, Headache!" Mistress shouted. It was the one command Psyduck knew by heart. Dutifully, he launched himself face-first into the pavement and -

The brief prick of pain brought clarity. He could sense all that was around him. The Pansage had taken refuge behind him as the Mightyena and the mechanized Hondour closed in.

"Now, Psyduck - use Psychic!" Madame Misty called. The blue flash filled his vision, and he reached out with it to seize, not only the Pokémon, but the nefarious Rockets who commanded them. Up high into the air he raised them and then, with a hearty push, launched them into the stratosphere. He heard their cries of shame and failure as they sailed away and -

He stumbled over his left foot and fell back to the ground.

"Way to go, Psyduck!"

"Mistress?" he asked. He had no idea what she was praising him for. The memories of what happened during Headache, as always, eluded him.

Whatever happened, the Rockets were gone, Masters and Mistresses were scrambling about to reclaim their chambers, and Mistress was happily chatting with Foresthead. He was speaking in long words again, but he seemed to be paying Mistress a compliment, one that involved Psyduck. That was a rare but pleasant experience.

Foresthead's fishing rod was slung over his shoulder, and the line dangled near his knees. Now that it was still, Psyduck took note of the lure. It was modeled after Foresthead himself, and it was not unlike the lures Mistress made in her own likeness. Though Psyduck didn't recall seeing one since she had sent the last one off to her Ashboy.

---

"Way to go, Psyduck!"

"Psy?"

Misty shook her head, but a smile was on her lips. Cilan wore one himself. Seeing the relief in everyone's eyes as they hurried to reclaim their Pokémon was a balm for the soul. That was also the most exciting battle he'd been a part of since coming to Kanto.

"That was amazing, Misty!" he told his partner.

She giggled a little. "It was, wasn't it? We make a pretty good team, Cilan."

"As do you and your Pokémon. In fact, I think I've seen enough to declare this..." he pirouetted, Pansage mirroring his actions on his right, "evaluation time! Your Starmie has a cool and crisp battling technique, and I also detect its deliciously effective speed. As for your Psyduck - he's living proof that appearances can be deceiving, for through that nearly impenetrable soup of confusion comes a sumptuous power I've never encountered before! To see a masterful Gym Leader's bond with her Pokémon is always a feast!"

"Pansage!"

"Uh...thanks, Cilan," Misty chuckled nervously. Her hand went to the back of her head, and that gesture made Cilan think again that he knew this girl from somewhere.

He felt a gentle tug on his fishing line. Psyduck was tugging at it as he looked over Cilan's lure.

"Psyduck, don't play with Cilan's fishing pole," Misty chided.

"It's alright." Cilan lifted the line up. "I think he was just captivated by my lure."

Misty leaned in for a closer look. "Wow, Cilan. Did you make this yourself?" he nodded. "It's so cute! I've made a few Mini-Misty lures myself."

Miny-Misty lures...

"THAT'S IT!"

Misty and Psyduck both jumped back from him. Cilan hadn't meant to yell so loudly, but it was as if a thousand switches had gone off at once in his mind. "That's where I've seen you before! You're the lady of the lure!"

"The what?" Misty asked, blinking in confusion.

"A dear friend of mine who traveled through Unova with me is from Kanto, and he carries a fishing lure that looks just like you!"

Misty gasped. "You're the Connoisseur Ash traveled with! I knew I heard of them before!"

"The one and only," Cilan said proudly as he adjusted his bowtie. "Well, I must say, this is an honor! I never thought when I started traveling through Kanto that I'd have a chance to meet Ash's sweetheart!"

Misty threw a hand over her face, which didn't do much to hide the scarlet flush spreading across her cheeks. "Oh, no! Y-you've got it all wrong, Cilan! Ash and I are just friends!" she laughed, a high and inauthentic chuckle that seemed desperate to cover something up.

"Oh...well, I -"

"Did...did Ash say we were?"

The shy, hopeful tone in Misty's voice came as a relief to Cilan; he'd feared for a moment that he'd given away some secret or unrequited love on Ash's part, and Cilan never wanted to betray a friend. That made answering Misty's question exceedingly difficult.

The truth was, not only had Ash said nothing of the sort, he hadn't even given a name to the lady of his lure. Cilan greatly doubted that he would ever have seen it if not for a chance mistake. They had checked in to a Pokémon Center in the country shortly after leaving the Kingdom of the Vale. Iris went off to explore the woods, and Cilan had told Ash that he would be out all day procuring supplies. He'd been halfway out the door when he realized he'd forgotten his wallet. When he returned to the room for it, he'd found Ash and Pikachu sprawled out on the floor, gazing at a fishing lure molded after a young lady. It rested in a pink and red handkerchief in Ash's palm.

"What's that, Ash?" Cilan had asked. He'd never seen his friend react so hysterically to a simple question. The boy had screeched at the top of his voice, leapt to his feet, and shoved both items into his vest. It was amusing, but a little concerning as well. "Ash, is everything alright?"

"It's a gift from a friend. Just a friend!" Ash's cheeks flushed a little as he stressed that last point, which of course convinced Cilan that whoever this friend was, she was much more than that. It seemed a sensitive subject for the young Trainer, however, so Cilan didn't press the matter. Still, curiosity wouldn't let him end the conversation there.

"I've never seen you fish with that lure."

Ash turned toward Pikachu, and the two of them shared a somber look. "I almost lost it once." His head snapped back up. "Can you go now, please?"

The flavors coming off of Ash in that moment had been overpowering. Cilan detected a healthy helping of joy, and the sort of warmth that only comes from old and long-lived relationships. Bitter stings of sadness, longing, and regret were less strong, but they tempered the taste. An unpleasant but powerful note of confusion ran through him as well. But buried under all of that was another flavor, one Cilan never expected to detect in Ash. True, it was only half-baked, and Cilan doubted if Ash understood it, but it was an unmistakable note.

It was love.

And as Cilan looked at the ginger-haired gym leader before him, glancing down at her shoe with a pensive look in her eye, he found that a very similar blend of tastes came off of her. Though in Misty's case, the love was fully baked, and there was less confusion than there was a peppering of hope and fear.

But the close match made him feel confident that he knew the right way to answer her.

"Cilan?" Misty asked again; evidently, he'd been in thought too long. "Did Ash say we were...s-sweethearts?"

"He said nothing of the sort. But," Cilan couldn't resist a wink, "an A-Class Connoisseur such as myself can evaluate more than just Pokémon."

"Huh?" Misty looked up. "What do you -"

"I mean, if you don't mind my saying so, that I think you might want to have a talk with our young friend."

Misty looked down again. The blush returned to her face, but it was softer this time, and a small smile played on her mouth. "He's in Alola now," she whispered, more to herself than to Cilan. "In school. It's hard to believe, Ash in school." She laughed softly, then let out a long sigh. "I just don't know if -"

"Misty!" One of her sisters, the blonde, came running up the street. "Like, your boy toy's mother's on the phone."

"Don't call him that!" shouted Misty, but she calmed down quickly. "I'll be right there."

"So you know Mrs. Ketchum too?" Cilan asked.

Misty nodded. "She's like a mother to me. I visit her every weekend. Come to think of it - it's Friday. She's probably calling to see what time I'll be in. Would you like to come and meet her?"

"It would be a pleasure! I've been making my way toward Pallet Town anyway!"

"Awesome!" Misty laughed, and she and Cilan made their way back to the gym, Psyduck waddling alongside his Trainer.

"Cilan?" Misty asked, a hint of hesitation in her voice. "I...I know we just met, but...well, you know Ash too. And I'm not saying I have anything to tell him -"

"Psy!" the duck snorted in laughter. Misty roughly bopped him on the head with his Pokéball to return him.

"As I was saying - not that I have anything to tell Ash, but if I did, and if I needed a boy to talk to about another boy...see, our other friends are just...I couldn't...if I needed..."

She was clearly struggling with this, and Cilan saw no need to force her through the words. "I would be happy to help in any way that I can."

---

Cilan was the only person Ash knew who would come to a place like Alola for a vacation but still dress in his finest. The only change he'd made to his outfit was adding a big straw hat that he picked up as they walked through the airport.

"I can't wait for you to meet all my friends," Ash said as they rode down the escalator. "They're really great."

"Pikachu!" the mouse on his shoulder agreed.

"I'm sure we'll all get along splendidly," said Cilan. "I must say, Alola is quite the change from Kanto."

"So how did you like my home? It's awesome, isn't it?"

"Oh, the region was delightful, but your actual home was the highlight of my travels! Your mother was most accommodating."

"You met my mom?" Ash was surprised by that, but not unpleased. He loved it when the people close to him got together. "I'll bet she was surprised when you dropped in."

"Actually, I had someone to make introductions. You see, on the way to Pallet Town, I passed through Cerulean City."

Another surprise. "You met Misty?"

"Pikachupi?"

Cilan nodded. "Your lure doesn't do her justice, Ash."

An unpleasant shiver ran up Ash's spine. He'd blacked that incident out of his mind until now. "Well...hard to fit someone that scrawny into a little lure, huh?" he chuckled, his hand flying to the back of his head.

"She's quite the lady, Ash. I had a wonderful time with her. In fact, I plan on returning to Cerulean City after I'm done here."

"Is that right?" the growl in his voice shocked Ash, as did the sudden images of Danny that passed through his mind. What did that guy have to do with anything?

Cilan kept going. "I met Misty just as she was preparing to visit your mother. The three of us passed a most enjoyable weekend together. And amidst everything else we did, we had a very interesting conversation about you."

"About me?"

Cilan nodded. With a slightly smug look, he drew an envelope from his waistcoat. The only mark on it was Ash's name, and he recognized Misty's handwriting. He reached out for it, but Cilan held it back.

"Now Ash," Cilan said, suddenly very serious. "I know things like this can go over your head at times, but I want you to read this very carefully, and be sure you understand it before you do anything."

"Uh...OK." Cilan held out the envelope, and Ash took it. "But what's this about?"

"You'll see...hopefully. Just remember Ash - you've held onto that lure as a treasure, but think about the lady who gave it to you."

[garden-ghoul]

fellowship of the bloggening, part.......

“five maybe?”

THE RING GOES SOUTH

When Frodo, Sam, and Bilbo come back from the council Merry and Pippin are indignant that Sam and Frodo get to go and they don’t. Everyone argues cutely for a bit, it’s very heartwarming. Frodo tries to be anxious, but he can’t for long; Rivendell has an air of carefree-ness, because elves are experts at ignoring stuff they don’t like. But it’s looking like our heroes will have to set out during the winter, which everyone is disgruntled about.

Elrond has decided that nine walkers will go to counter the nine riders. Very poetic, I guess. He wants representatives from every “nice” race, it’s very, I dunno, Star Trek or something. Also this:

'Strider!' said Frodo.

'Yes,' he said with a smile. `I ask leave once again to be your companion, Frodo.'

'I would have begged you to come,' said Frodo, 'only I thought you were going to Minas Tirith with Boromir.'

I made the mistake of going into the ao3 tag of frodo/aragorn last night and let me tell you, I am never going to ship anything ever again until I die. The entire concept of romance was a mistake, and I don’t trust anyone on the internet with it. Still, they are cute friends and they love each other. Merry and Pippin argue with Elrond until he sighs and lets them go (they’ll sneak out anyway!) So with that the company is decided; Aragorn’s sword is reforged (Anduril < Narsil). One wonders why he didn’t have that done a long time ago; I can only supposed Elrond kept saying it wasn’t the right time, in his prophetic way. I am digging how elvish leaders seem to end up with the gift of precognition kind of only after they have ruled for a while. I like to think it’s something that happens, you find yourself becoming more and clairvoyant the longer you rule. Speaking of swords, Bilbo gives Frodo his sword Sting and a coat of mithril mail as a parting present. Boromir has a longsword “of less lineage” than Anduril, hahaha. Boromir blows his horn as a setting-out tradition, and everyone in the entire valley jumps. Elrond tsks at him. And Gandalf has Glamdring, “the mate of Orcrist” which Thorin used to use. It seems weird that a dwarf and a human-shaped wizard would wield swords that were the same...

'That animal can nearly talk,' said Sam, ‘and would talk, if he stayed here much longer. He gave me a look as plain as Mr. Pippin could speak it: if you don't let me go with you, Sam, I'll follow on my own.’ So Bill was going as the beast of burden, yet he was the only member of the Company that did not seem depressed.

But as they’re about to set out:

'Bill, my lad,' he said, `you oughtn't to have took up with us. You could have stayed here and et the best hay till the new grass comes.' Bill swished his tail and said nothing.

Sam!!! And Bilbo tells Frodo “don’t be too long.” Yeah, Frodo, don’t take like 2 months destroying the most powerful magical artifact in the world while being hunted. That’d just be rude.

Anyway, after setting out, everyone is absolutely miserable. Even with Elrond’s nice furs they are always cold, and can’t risk fires, and it sounds like they have to walk by night. They pause by the ancient border of Eregion to listen to Gimli listing all the mountains he recognizes (cute!). Also Legolas says that the elves who lived here were “of a race strange to us silvan folk.” Dude... you’re not a Silvan elf. Isn’t Legolas Sindarin? Anyway, Gandalf declares a rest day because once a land has elves in it, it is slightly safer forever. What. 

HOWEVER Sam and Aragorn spot a bunch of sneaky spy crows, so the party has to go off in the night. They make for the Redhorn Pass on Caradhras, but he (Gimli personifies the mountain as Caradhras the Cruel, I love it) flings snow and boulders at them until they eventually give in and decide to go back down the way they came. Boromir and Aragorn go to clear a path, and Legolas runs around on top of the snow cheerleading them (he is such a jokester, extremely annoying how he’s not depressed; if he were in my party I’d want to punch him by now). They find out that the snow was honestly JUST falling on their party; Caradhras really did have it out for them.

Hardly had Frodo touched the ground when with a deep rumble there rolled down a fall of stones and slithering snow. When the air cleared again they saw that the path was blocked behind them.

'Enough, enough!' cried Gimli. 'We are departing as quickly as we may!' And indeed with that last stroke the malice of the mountain seemed to be expended, as if Caradhras was satisfied that the invaders had been beaten off and would not dare to return. The threat of snow lifted; the clouds began to break and the light grew broader.

So they go back down the mountain--those nasty birds are back--and prepare for

A JOURNEY IN THE DARK

We’re goin through Moria, kids. Gandalf has been there, and come out alive; Gimli is raring to go look for his lost cousins; Aragorn has been there too, and has a great deal of anxiety about it. He also warns Gandalf, specifically, that if he passes the doors of Moria he must beware. Where does he get his info?? Is he a prophet now like Faramir? Pippin, who has been trying to look tough, is scared and dispirited, wishing he had stayed in Rivendell. Unexpectedly it’s Sam who brings the optimism; he trusts in their company to keep them safe. Dear boy.

During the night we are assaulted by wolves, but Gandalf scares off most of them with a super fire spell, very cool. Not sure what the point of this bit is. We then go looking for the entrance to Moria, and find that the river that used to show where the gate was has dried to a trickle; it was dammed to create a lake. Listen, Mr Rolkien, I don’t believe you know how dams work. Unless it was dammed very recently and is still filling up, you get the same outflow as inflow. You fool. You horrible fool. Well, anyway, they make it to the door (which does indeed have NARVI <3 CELEBRIMBOR carved into it). Gandalf spends a good fifteen minutes muttering at it, trying to guess the password, while everyone else gets edgier and more impatient. Boromir, who is apparently twelve, sullenly throws a rock into the lake. This, naturally, awakes a tentacle monster and a bunch of snakes, and our heroes flee into the mines; the tentacle monster shuts the doors behind them and barricades them with trees and rocks. Goodness! Gandalf leads the way forward, although sometimes he has to stop to consult Gimli on the way to go. Everyone is a little doubtful; Aragorn reassures them by saying that “He is surer of finding the way home in a blind night than the cats of Queen Berúthiel.” EXCUSE ME? TOLKIEN YOU’VE BEEN HOLDING OUT ON ME. TELL ME ABOUT QUEEN BERUTHIEL AND HER CATS. Please, please, if anyone reading this knows more you’ve got to tell me.

Ooh, Frodo also has superpowers now from getting stabbed by an evil knife; he can see “unseen things,” and he can see in the dark. In the end, Gandalf mostly navigates by smell and wizard-sense. They make it to a huge hall with black glassy walls, which Gandalf thinks might actually be right next to the outside; Gimli loudly sings a song about Durin, which seems a little foolish to me since I know they’re about to get attacked by orcs. Also, we learn that the mithril coat Bilbo gave to Frodo is worth the entire Shire. Which is just... wow. Mithril has really appreciated in value since Sauron took all of it, huh? Ah, and we find Balin’s tomb. Rest in pieces, son of Fundin.