#and my challenge isn’t even to get all ice types. it’s to beat the game with only ice types

[danielnelsen]

you’re not even allowed to fight calyrex until you’re champion?? i just need to catch glastrier pleeeeaaaase…… 😭😭😭

[reactionimagesdaily]

I dont understand bionicles at all, so maybe a crash course into like. 1) what a bionicle is 2) general plot of the bionicle story? happy 5k btw <3 love ur page!

OH BOY OH BOY, this is a question I've been waiting for. Thank you so much for asking, and I’m glad you like my page!! <333

A couple of disclaimers, before I start: I'm going to focus mostly on the mainline plot, but let it be known that there WERE a bunch of serial stories and comics and games that added to the story overall. Bionicle was, I think, one of the first big instances of a plot that was consumed through a bunch of different mediums.

I'm also going to try and do a lot of streamlining - it's not that I DON'T want to talk about bionicle, but there's 10+ years of story to cover, so... yeah. :P

Also! Sorry in advance to anyone whose 'read more' function doesn't work, because this is gonna be a doozy

So, what is a bionicle? From a meta perspective, Bionicle is a Lego theme that ran from 2001-2010, and was briefly rebooted from 2015-2016. It's name is a mashup of biological chronicle, and it was hugely successful in its time, essentially helping to save the Lego company from bankruptcy. The idea is that you use finnicky technical pieces to build humanoid figures (and sometimes their vehicles!) and then. play with them

From a textual/lore perspective, I'm not sure Bionicle is an in-universe term lol. But the characters that we recognise as 'bionicles' are grouped into a bunch of different classifications - 'Toa', 'Matoran', 'Makuta', 'Glatorian', and so on. The characters are kinda like inverse cyborgs, where there's metal on the outside and flesh and muscle on the inside. They often function like robots (e.g. have removable and replaceable masks that they constantly wear over their faces) but are still essentially living creatures.

So, what's the general plot of the story?

...[inhales deeply] Okay

In the time before time, there's an island called Mata Nui that sits in the middle of the ocean. It's populated by these dinky lil' guys called 'Matoran' that live in six villages organised by elements - fire, water, ice, air, earth, and stone. They eke out a life as best they can, facing dangerous wild animals (collectively called 'Rahi') and worshipping the Great Spirit, who is confusingly also called Mata Nui. (They named the island after him.) The great spirit, they say, once watched over them all, but was long ago forced into an enchanted sleep by his evil brother.

(These are the matoran. Look at these cute little guys :3)

One day, six canisters wash ashore, on the island's golden beaches. And out of these canisters step six strange figures called Toa. Tall, strong, and heavily armed, there is one of these 'Toa' for each of the villages, and each of these guys have control over an element. They are the main 'heroes' of this story.

(These are the six Toa. Here's a fun game - spot the girl!)

Each of the six Toa are named characters - from left to right we have Onua (wise and grounded), Lewa (fun-loving and mischievous), Pohatu (friendly and confident), Tahu (hot-headed and impulsive), Kopaka (cold and quiet), and Gali (intelligent and compromising). Some of the Matoran are also named characters - there's Jaller, the captain of the guard at the fire village, Hahli, a sports player from the water village, Matoro, a translator from the ice village, and Takua, who's technically from the fire village but is also an 'outsider' who tends to wander the island. Takua is especially important because he becomes the Toa's 'chronicler', following them around on their adventures and writing everything down for posterity.

Without getting into too much detail, the Toa spend two real-life years getting into wacky highjinks. They hunt for masks (as aforementioned, the masks they wear can be removed and replaced) that grant them special powers, fight the Rahi, and also face up against a terrifying race of creatures with mind-control powers called the Bohrok that are determined to strip the island of all life. They also fight against a being called Makuta, a mysterious shadowy figure who claims to be the brother that forced Mata Nui into his slumber. When they first meet him, Makuta takes the form of a Matoran to throw them off, before turning into a nebulous black void and doing his best to murder them all to death.

(Makuta as he appears in 2001's 'Mata Nui Online Game'. As far as villain introductions go, marching out to meet all the heroes and then telling them "I bore you, for I am nothing. It is from nothing that you came, and it is into nothing you will go. The people of this world are builders, but look into their hearts, and you will find they also have the power to destroy. I am that power. I am destruction. And I will destroy you." is pretty fucking solid though I say so myself.)

There’s a lot of cool worldbuilding and mysterious details about the island. At one point, the earth Matoran note that they can only dig so far into the dirt before they come across some hard material - some type of metal - that they just can’t break through. Also, amidst the stars in the sky, there’s an ominous blood-red star that’s appropriately known as the Red Star. What’s it doing there? Nobody knows

Also at one point, the Toa also get mutated into new forms after falling into a liquid that's called 'energized protodermis' but should really be called 'McGuffin Sauce'. There's a lot of changing forms and characters being mutated in this series in general, which I'm sure has nothing to do with the fact that Lego always needed new figures to make into toys.

(This is how the Toa look after being mutated. In these forms, they're referred to as the Toa Nuva -and let me assure you that that distinction will soon become necessary. :P)

So, in 2003 in our world (I’m not sure about the timeline within the lore), Takua the chronicler finds a mysterious mask and brings it back to the Turaga, who are the wise old rulers of the Matoran (The most promiment of the Turaga is the Turaga of fire, who’s called Vakama. He’s an even-tempered and wise old man who’s not above hitting villains with his walking stick if they threaten his village.). It turns out that the mask is special - it’s the mask of Light, and it’s part of a prophecy that involves the arrival of a seventh Toa who’s destined to defeat Makuta. So Takua and Jaller go on an adventure to try and find the seventh Toa.

Meanwhile, Makuta isn’t just going to sit around and wait for the Toa who’s destined to defeat him to rock up: he unleashes his secret weapons, the Rahkshi, who are, in lore, suits of armour driven by slugs. Sounds corny - in practice, they’re hella intimidating.

(Look at these bad boys)

Some more adventures happen and, to make a long story short, the Rahkshi kill Jaller and Takua the chronicler puts the mask of light onto his own face, transforming into Takanuva, the Toa of Light. The audience surrogate and ‘weird’ character was the secret hero all along!! I love that honestly.

(Takua and Takanuva - before and after)

As someone with light powers, Takanuva is essentially the perfect counter to the big bad Makuta, who has shadow powers, so he finds Makuta’s lair intent on beating him. Makuta challenges him to a game that’s called ‘Kohlii’ but is basically this universe’s version of lacrosse - Takanuva accepts and proceeds to wipe the floor with him. During their fight, they fall into another conveniently-placed pool of energized protodermis and become merged, forming a new being called ‘Takutanuva’. Takutanuva doesn’t stick around very long, because he’s this weird contradictory being of both light and shadow, but before he fractures he opens a gate underneath Mata Nui and lets the Toa, the Turaga, and some named Matoran get through. Inside, they find a hidden city - a whole other world.

Takutanuva then manages to use his powers to hack the universe and bring Jaller back to life. Hooray! After that, he dies, and Takanuva is back. Makuta is nowhere to be found. [eyes emoji]

So now the Toa, the old Turaga, and a couple of Matoran are inside this whole new location, and they’re all wondering what the heck is going on. Well, not all of them are wondering. Vakama, the head Turaga, steps forward and admits that actually, the six (seven) Toa heros that we’ve come to know and love... aren’t actually the first Toa. Gasp!

The next two years of sets and story are essentially one giant flashback, as Vakama tells the current heroes about adventures past. It turns out that the hidden city they’ve found is called Metru Nui, and once upon a time, Vakama and the other Turaga were Toa themselves, fighting to keep the city and the matoran safe.

(New (old) Toa! The flying green one is Matau, who was a stunt-driving excitable madman, and then on the ground from left to right we have Whenua (nerdy chronicler), Nokama (schoolteacher-turned-superhero), Vakama (anxiety-ridden leader), Nuju (absent-minded stargazer), and Onewa (racist prick who needs (and gets) a character arc). To differentiate themselves from the Toa that we’ve come to know and love, these Toa are the Toa Metru)

They had a bunch of adventures of their own. They fought the Vahki (capture robots upholding an authoritarian police state) and the Morbuzakh (evil sentient vines), and they also had ‘arch enemies’ in the form of the Dark Hunters, who were mercenaries that hunted Toa.

Also, that story about Makuta putting Mata Nui to sleep? Not a story so much as a history lesson! Ultimately, the reason that the city of Metru Nui was abandoned was because Mata Nui WAS awake, watching over them all, but then Makuta forced him into slumber and essentially caused a cataclysm. The Matoran were rounded up and forced to sleep as well, and the Toa Metru had to flee the city. When they came back, it had been overrun with Visorak (basically giant spiders), and they had to fight hard to defeat the horde and its leaders and escape with all of the sleeping Matoran.

Once they left Metru Nui (and arrived on the island that would become Mata Nui), the Toa Metru sacrificed their powers to wake up all the Matoran - which is how they transformed into the wise old Turaga. Also, the Matoran woke up with no memories, which is how they’d never known about Metru Nui up until this point.

Anyways, after exploring Metru Nui and making plans to move back in, everyone does some digging around and discover something about Mata Nui: his spirit is fading. Whatever Makuta did to him, it not only put him to sleep, but it’s also slowly killing him. After presumably having an existential crisis, the gang come up with a solution: there’s another legendary mask, the Mask of Life, that should be able to resuscitate Mata Nui, or at the very least, keep him from kicking the bucket while he’s sleeping.

(The Mask of Life! If you look closely, you can see that the faceplate is shaped like a humanoid figure (because, yaknow, life) and if you think that’s not the tightest shit ever you can get out of my face)

So, the modern-day Toa (the Toa Nuva, if you guys remember the name) are like ‘okay, give us the location of the mask, we’ll go and find it’. So they get sent to another island, this one called Voya Nui, and they arrive and... get their asses handed to them? What?

A quick backtrack: a gang of thugs called the Piraka had already arrived on Voya Nui in search of the Mask of Life, wanting it so they can use its power to blackmail powerful organisations and generally get ahead in the criminal world. (From a Meta perspective, they’re,,, really interesting. Up until this point, the villains in Bionicle had either been wild animals, or villains with grand overarching plans. These guys are basically overpowered street thugs, complete with their own theme song - the ‘Piraka Rap’. Look it up on YouTube; it’s fucking hilarious, because the rest of Bionicle is generally timeless, but the Piraka Rap was basically dated as soon as it came out. I love it.)

(The Piraka themselves! Fun fact; in Bionicle lore, ‘Piraka’ is a slang term for ‘thief’ and ‘murderer’, and was also considered so vulgar that if a Matoran called another Matoran ‘Piraka’, war would be declared over it. These guys are really just going around calling themselves slurs. I have to respect that.)

So, yeah. The Piraka defeat and imprison the Toa Nuva when they get to the island. Now what?

Well, now it’s time for the Matoran to get involved! A group of named and previously-established Matoran set out to see if they can rescue the Toa. There’s Jaller, Hahli, and Matoro, who I’ve already mentioned, and then there’s Kongu, Nuparu, and Hewkii. And I need to take a break to say that all these characters have been with the story since 2001 (it’s now 2006), and they’ve all contributed to the plot before!! Kongu is a prominent Matoran from the air village who led a flight of giant bird-riders to save the day one time, and Nuparu is an engineer from the earth village who basically invented mechs to help the Matoran defend themselves against the Bohrok. These guys are BADASSES and I want to bring up how a really strong initial 3 years of storytelling laid a great foundation for so many small characters. It’s just neat! :D

Anyways, these Matoran travel to the island of Voya Nui in canisters (like how the original Toa landed on Mata Nui) and while they’re sailing the ocean blue, their canisters are struck by lighting from the mysterious Red Star. And that lighting, say it with me now, TRANSFORMS them! Specifically it transforms them into Toa. They end up calling themselves the Toa Inika, because they’re searching for the mask of life, which is also called the ‘Ignika’.

(The Toa Inika. Being transformed by a bolt of lighting means that in addition to their regular elemental powers, they also have electric/lighting abilities.)

Souped-up and ready for action, the Toa Inika manage to defeat the Piraka and rescue the Toa Nuva. However, through plot shenanagins, the Mask of Life ends up being sent to the bottom of the ocean around Voya Nui, and the Toa Inika learn that under the waves is a hidden city - Mahri Nui. As they descend, the Mask of Life does something odd; it sends out a wave of energy, transforming the Toa Inika so that they can breath underwater. So now, they’re the Toa Mahri. (Because they’re headed to Mahri Nui. You get me?)

Mahri Nui is ruled by the Barraki - ancient warlords who were imprisoned under the sea many thousands of years ago after they became powerful enough to threaten Mata Nui himself. They were put in a prison called The Pit, but during the cataclysm caused by Makuta putting Mata Nui to sleep, the city of Mahri Nui sunk into the water and slammed into the Pit. Many prisoners and Matoran died, but the Barraki were freed. Uh-oh, spaghetti-ohs.

Speaking of Makuta - guess who’s back! Thought dead after no-one could find him after Takutanuva died, it turns out that his spirit is possessing a robot body that had previously been a prison guard. He spends some time hanging out with one of the Toa Mahri, Matoro, basically playing mind games with him and trying to get him to turn to the dark side. Eventually, three different characters and factions smack the shit out of him, and he slips out of the robot body to go do... something else (watch this space). 

This year of story was REALLY plot-heavy and I kinda can’t do it justice here. The important developments are that the Toa Mahri eventually manage to reclaim the Mask of Life, and Matoro yoinks it. While his teammates act as a big distraction, he swims away and puts on the mask. It basically grants him ultimate power, but it also fuckin’ kills him. His final acts are to teleport his friends to safety, and then release a massive burst of energy that burns him up and saves Mata Nui’s life. The Mask of Life, with no-one left to wear it, sinks into the ocean.

(“In his last moments, Matoro feels no fear. He know he has succeeded--the Toa Mahri are safe, able to resume their lives in Metru Nui. The Turaga and Matoran will know that they became true heroes. Matoro does not see himself as a hero. As a Matoran, a Toa Inika, and a Toa Mahri, all he ever tried to do was his duty. Now that duty has led him to his destiny.”- Bionicle Ignition 11: Death of a Hero)

[dries tears] Anyways, now that Mata Nui’s life has been saved, the only thing left to do is wake him back up. To do that, the Toa Nuva (the Toa that showed up at the very beginning of this story, if you recall) need to journey to the core of the universe, and a civilisation called Karda Nui. Three of the Toa Nuva - Lewa, Pohatu, and Kopaka - are sent to a village in the clouds, where they protect the local matoran and battle the forces of Makuta. Because, as it turns out, the big bad Makuta that we know? Makuta is actually the name of his species. The guy just wanted to feel special, apparently. The Makuta that the Toa have been fighting for over half a decade is technically called Makuta Teridax (or just Teridax), while the other Makuta have other names that I can’t remember off the top of my head.

Anyways, while those three Toa are figuring that out, the other three - Tahu, Gali, and Onua - journey to a place called the Swamp of Secrets in order to find a set of keystones that supposedly contain instructions on how to awaken Mata Nui. And it’s there that they find an unlikely ally: the Mask of Life itself.

See, the Mask of Life has always been a weird one - if you recall, it released an energy pulse for no reason that transformed the Toa Mahri and let them breath underwater. (It’s also done some other fucky stuff that I haven’t been able to mention - there’s a short story about how one time, a guy touched it, and it gave him the ability to involuntarily bring everything around him to life, which ultimately drove him mad. So. You know. That’s fun.) Well, it turns out that when the mask sank into the ocean after Matoro’s death, it ultimately ended up in the swamps of Karda Nui, and it senses the battles raging about it. More than that, but it remembers Matoro’s bravery as he donned the mask knowing it would kill him, and remembers how his final wish was to save his friends. Wanting to know what it means to be a hero, the Mask of Life creates a body for itself, and ventures out into the swamp to discover its destiny.

(The Mask of Life has a body now!! Good for him! Good for him.)

There’s some more shenanigans that I’m skipping over - at one point, Takanuva (Toa of light, remember him?) rocks up to help. Long story short, our eight heroes - Tahu, Gali, Onua, Lewa, Kopaka, Pohatu, Takanuva, and the Mask of Life - fight their way through the Makuta and into the very core of the universe - the Codrex. Inside, after yet more shenanigans, the Mask of Life figures that in order to wake Mata Nui up, it will have to sacrifice the body it’s built for itself. The moment is sad, but the mask remembers Matoro’s sacrifice, and is inspired to act. He sacrifices his dreams of becoming a hero, and in doing so, becomes a hero... ;_;

The mask flies deep into the Codrex, its body dissolving; when it reaches the bottom, it creates a massive energy storm that the other characters have to escape. (Our heroes make it out - most of the villains end up getting vaporized, big RIP.)

And just like that, the journey is over. After years of battle, the Toa Nuva have completed their purpose, and awakened the great spirit, thus bringing peace back to the land. Everyone meets back up in Metru Nui - the Toa Nuva, the Toa Mahri, the Turaga, the remaining Matoran. It’s a glorious day. And as they gather, something happens.

Deep, deep beneath the ocean, energy pulses through rock, and machines that have been dormant for millennia begin to whirr and move. The island of Mata Nui - long abandoned as the Matoran moved back down into Metru Nui - cracks open like a wallnut, each half sliding into the sea. From underneath where the island had been, a tremendous head rises out of the ocean, countless galleons of water pouring off of it. Titanic shoulders follow. Then the chest, and the limbs, and slowly, surely, Mata Nui rises.

Meta context: for years, the nature of Mata Nui has been a mystery. Is he a metaphysical being? Is he a real person? No-one was sure... but they know now. That solid material that the earth Matoran couldn’t mine through, all the way back in 2001? That was his skin. The mysterious red star that created the Toa Inika? That was a failsafe machine orbiting Mata Nui, poised to create new Toa as necessary. The island of Mata Nui was atop his head, Metru Nui was his brain, Karda Nui was deep in his guts. The Matoran were workers to keep him functioning, the Toa were basically his immune system (the canisters they arrive in are literally shaped like pills)... All this time, all these stories, all these characters, this entire world - they have all been inside a robot the size of continents.

(Fucking hell. Look at this. The clouds come up to his ankles.)

Celebrations ripple through Metru Nui as everyone realises what has happened. The great spirit is awake again! The Toa have won! But as the Turaga raise their voices to try and congratulate the Toa, a chill spreads over the spectators as the air grows cold. Everyone stops and looks around. What’s happening now? And then, from everywhere and nowhere, a voice rumbles. It’s a familiar voice. An unwelcome voice. A voice that most of the gathered heroes thought they’d never hear again.

It’s the voice of Makuta - the original Makuta. Makuta Teridax.

And what does he say?

“I AM EVERYWHERE. I AM EVERYTHING YOU SEE.”

Matoro’s sacrifice had ensured that Mata Nui’s body did not die, but before the great spirit’s consciousness could return, Makuta supplanted it with his own. After that, all he had to do was wait for the Toa Nuva to achieve their objective. And as they finished the fight and won the day, they handed victory to him on a silver platter. No longer does he need to strive to rule the universe - he is the universe.

(Meta perspective again but like: FUCK, man. I can’t emphasise enough how mind-breaking this was for the kids who were invested in the series. Think Thanos snapping his fingers in Infinity War, except probably more devastating, because there wasn’t a direct sequel lined up to give the heroes another chance, and there wasn’t a way to ‘undo’ it. This was a plot development that we all had to live with T_T)

(You can tell things are bad because his eyes changed from green to red.)

And what of Mata Nui? What about the spirit that the Toa were actually trying to wake up?

Oh, Makuta stuffed Mata Nui’s consciousness into the Mask of Life - and then blasted the Mask into space.

[inhales deeply]

man...

Okay, in all honesty, part of me wanted to end it there. But you know what? We’ve come this far. And there is more to the story. So I’m going to ignore my concern I won’t be able to do it justice and blunder on.

 Bionicle’s last chapter (2009-2010) follows Mata Nui himself - no longer an abstract spiritual concept, but rather a concrete character. A god felled from his pedestal, struggling to find a way to save his people. And it’s AWESOME. Armed with only the Mask of Life and a sentient shield named Click, he wanders the shithole deserts of the planet he crash-lands on, bringing the disparate tribes together, uncovering secrets about who made him and what his ultimate purpose is, and learning what it means to be a regular person. Also, at one point, in a move very reminiscent of the god that he once was, he turns a guy into a snake. You know. As a ‘fuck you’.

(There’s something really cool to me about a main character being someone who essentially lost all the power of the cosmos. Mata Nui might just be my fave character in this whole story honestly.)

Eventually, Mata Nui discovers some crucial pieces of information. Firstly: the planet that he’s landed on, Bara Magna, is his ‘homeworld’ in that it’s where his giant god body was built. Secondly: the two moons orbiting Bara Magna (the jungle moon of Bota Magna and the ocean moon of Aqua Magna) were once part of the planet itself, and split off during a planet-destroying cataclysm, leaving behind a desert wasteland in their wake. Third: the function he was ultimately built for (his ‘destiny’) was to reunite the three celestial bodies into one planet, bringing life back to Bara Magna’s harsh desert environments. He was on his way to complete this task when Makuta crashed his systems with a computer virus - which was what forced him into the ‘slumber’ that he was in for most of the mainline story.

His fourth, and probably most important discovery, is that he’s essentially his makers’ second attempt at a world-fixing giant robot. Before creating him, his makers (the ‘Great Builders’) constructed a giant robot that malfunctioned and exploded. Long-deactivated, the pieces of it are still scattered through the deserts of Bara Magna - in fact, many of the villages on the planet are set up in or around these giant robot pieces. Mata Nui figures that if he can reconstruct this old robot, he can use it to complete his destiny, and maybe even save his people.

It isn’t easy. He has to convince the villagers he’s come to befriend (the Agori) to give up their homes and their safety, and he has to find an experimental power source that’ll actually get the giant metal body moving again. But eventually, he figures it all out. Powered by the experimental source, the Mask of Life, and probably also friendship, he inhabits this enormous form and rises once again. Without missing a beat, he reaches out and begins to pull the moons towards the main planet. As far as he’s concerned, he’s going to fix everything, or die trying.

(The power of skybeams)

However, it won’t be that simple. Makuta senses that Mata Nui’s spirit has inhabited a new form (and I don’t mean that in a metaphysical way, I mean that in a computer/technology way), and he quickly jets over to Bara Magna. Obviously, flinging the fucker into space wasn’t good enough. It’s time for him to destroy Mata Nui, mano y mano. Giant robot y giant robot.

(Makuta and Mata Nui, facing off. God I love this picture.)

It’s the final battle - for real this time. The two giant robots begin to punch each other, and Mata Nui is up against some obvious disadvantages. For one thing, he can’t risk attacking Makuta with all his might, because he doesn’t want to hurt his people, who are still inside the giant robot. (Inside, they’re fairing... poorly. It’s like facism, but if facism was being actively enforced by God.)

In the fight, a hole gets blasted in Makuta’s body, and out pour a whole LOAD of Rahkshi. (Remember those guys?) However, Tahu and Takanuva also manage to escape, and join a ground battle that’s breaking out between the Agori (and their protectors, the Glatorians), the Skrall (a tribe of warriors native to Bara Magna who are absolute dicks - I’ve had to gloss over them, unfortunately, but believe me when I say that they’ve been major antagonists for as long as the narrative has focused on Bara Magna), and a bunch of guys who are called ‘Piraka’ but aren’t the gang of thugs from Voya Nui. (I think they’re the same... species?) Long story short: large-scale shitfight is happening at the feet of the two robots that are slugging it out. Makuta, being a dick, decides to try and literally stamp on all of Mata Nui’s friends down below, and Mata Nui has to desperately hold him off.

Around this point, the Mask of Life (which is really the MVP of this whole story) uses its convenient energy bursts to imbue Tahu with a set of golden armour that allows him to release energy blasts of its own. (Why it singles out Tahu, I’m not sure, but I’m presuming it’s because Tahu was the first face of the series and it just makes thematic sense for him to be a major player in the final battle.) Tahu uses his new golden armour to disintegrate ALL of the Rahkshi - and there were a lot of them on the field of battle, let me assure you. Makuta feels the loss of so many creations at once, and falters, and Mata Nui seizes his chance. He’d done his work well before Makuta had arrived, and the jungle moon is now in low orbit above the planet. Pouring every last ounce of his strength into one more push, he surges forward and up, pushing Makuta up and making sure that his head is right in the path of the falling planet.

Crunch.

(Kudos to Makuta Teridax for being such a persistent antagonist that the only way to get rid of him for good was to drop an entire damn planet on his head.)

Mata Nui guides the falling body carefully to the ground, letting it open and freeing his people. The remaining Skrall and Piraka surrender. The Matoran and Toa meet and mingle with the Agori and Glatorian. Mata Nui raises his hands, and completes his purpose; aided one last time by the Mask of Life, as well as his body’s innate systems, he enacts a synthesis on the now-united celestial bodies. Lush forests and large bodies of water appear in the desert. Life flourishes. Birds probably start to sing. Mata Nui has completed his purpose, and vindicated all of the heroes who fought for him for so long.

He feels himself fading. He lets his spirit withdraw into the Mask of Life. A new slumber - this one, earned, and of his own volition.

Perhaps one day, he will return.

(“We will honour Mata Nui, and all those who fought for him, in our memories. But the time has come to move on. His destiny is fulfilled, and for many of us, it has yet to be written. My friends, it is time to go.”- Tahu, The Mata Nui Saga, chapter 34.)

And there we go! Very, VERY long, but that’s the general plot of bionicle. There are an absolute tone of details I’ve missed out or skipped over, and I encourage you to search them out for yourself if you’re interested. But them’s the basics! :D

[pucksnsticksnhockeyboys]

never isn’t an option - pt. 2

summary: you’re tired of hiding how you feel from Matthew, so you risk everything for chance at happiness.

warnings: none really, angst 

word count: 4.7k

note from the writer: here it is! this is the last part, and I'm super proud of how this whole thing turned out. make sure to take this survey to help me decide what to work on next!

read part one here

Three weeks. It had been three, miserable, weeks since you last saw Matt. It felt like an eternity, and you weren’t sure how you had managed to go so long without seeing him. He was your best friend, and he had made every attempt to reach out to you since then. Texts, snapchats, and even a phone call late one night. It was killing you to be so distant from him.

“So what’d you do to Chucky?”

Rasmus asked the question between shoveling fries in his mouth. He had practically dragged you out of your apartment, taking you to the hole-in-the wall diner down the street and ordering some very non-nutritionist approved food before you could get a word in. If it was under any other circumstances, you would have rolled your eyes at his lack of table manners. Instead, you shrugged your shoulders lamely and pushed your own fries around your plate.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You hummed quietly. He wasn’t talking about your failed attempt at confessing your feelings, you were sure of it, because you had gone over that with him at least four times since the incident.

“At first, he was moping because of the thing,” he started, and you were glad it didn’t outright announce what the thing was. Avoiding his gaze, he continued. “And then like a week ago he just got worse. He’s always in a mood now, and you can’t tell me you haven’t seen how sloppy he’s been on the ice.”

“I haven’t been watching the games.” The confession tumbled past your lips before you could stop them, and Rasmus gave you a pointed look. You rarely missed a game, even before you met Matt and fell in love and had your heart broken. “But I’ve been keeping track of scores, at least.”

“My point is, something must have happened to make things worse and I want to know what it is.” He continued before the conversation was completely derailed. You might have been hurting, but that didn’t stop you from caring for Matt unconditionally, so you thought for a minute about what had happened. If you were willing to be honest with yourself, you probably weren’t the most reliable source of information on Matt’s life anymore. It hurt, but you had been removed from him for three weeks. All except for—

“He called me a week and a half ago, late at night.” You offered, trying not to think about if you still were able to affect him so much. Sure, you were his best friend, but you ruined everything with the impulsive decision to confess your feelings.

“Well, what’d you talk about?” Rasmus asked as if the question was obvious. You shrugged, looking back down at your plate. He nudged you with his foot under the table, and you sighed while reluctantly meeting his concerned gaze.

“Nothing really, I told him I was on a date and—”

“You were what?” He interrupted, a little too loudly for the quiet diner but he completely missed the disgruntled look from the middle aged woman behind the counter as he waited for you to explain yourself expectantly. You groaned, dropping your head into your hands and propping your elbows up on the table. “Who were you on a date with? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because I knew you’d freak out like this!” You exclaimed, waving a hand dramatically in his direction. “And it was with one of my friend’s coworkers, she made me go to try and get over Matt.”

“And you told him you were with another guy?” Rasmus asked dumbfoundedly and you nodded bashfully. He sighed, shaking his head at you and you felt as if you were in the principal's office after getting caught doing something you shouldn’t. But you were an adult, you could go out with anyone you wanted. “Wait, if Matt called you late, what were you still doing on a date?”

“Because,” you hesitated, flushing at having to confess what you were next to him. “I went back to his place to, you know, but then Matt called and I bailed right after.” Despite the situation, Rasmus laughed loudly, leaning back in his booth and you wondered where he found humor in the situation.

“So you didn’t even sleep with the guy?” He asked, grin on his face as you nodded sheepishly. You had been fully prepared to, having convinced yourself that not-quite rebound sex was a good idea, but you changed your mind upon hearing Matt’s voice. “Man, you’re so in love with him.”

“Shut up.” You groaned, no heat in your voice. “It doesn’t matter anyways, he doesn’t feel the same and I’m probably never going to see him again, so.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be his plus one to the charity event tomorrow?” The question had the blood draining from your face—you had completely forgotten. It was always assumed that you were Matt’s plus one to Flames events, and you’ve had the charity gala marked on your calendar for over a month.

“I doubt he wants to see me.” You tried to reason, but Rasmus shook his head. He grabbed your phone, and all you could do was watch as he unlocked it and opened your texts.

“That’s definitely not true, like, at all.” He teased, typing out a message for you. You practically jumped out of your seat once you realized just who he was sending a text to, but by the time you reached his side of the booth the message was sent and your fate was sealed.

“Did you really just text Matt—”

“Oh look, he’s already responded.” Rasmus sounded far too pleased with himself for your liking, but you ignored him entirely as you snatched your phone back that he had been dangling in your face. You read Rasmus’ text to Matt first, biting your lip in nerves. ‘You still want me to go to the charity thing with you, right?’ Matt’s response was simple, and came in near record time, but you forced yourself not to think too much into his ‘of course I do’ because you knew that was exactly how you’d break your heart all over again.

You glanced up from your phone and met Rasmus’ smug grin, smile toying with the corners of your lips no matter how badly you wanted to frown at him. His simple sentence was enough to set off a parade of butterflies inside you, but you forced yourself to remember that he didn’t feel the same.

“This doesn’t mean anything.”

Time seemed to pass before your eyes, because before you got the chance to properly breathe and process what exactly entailed a night of being Matthew’s plus one while avoiding thinking about your unreciprocated feelings, he was knocking at your apartment door to pick you up.

You counted to three before opening, both to ground yourself and make it seem as if you hadn't been anxiously waiting for him. Even still, you weren’t ready for how breathtakingly handsome he looked. He was dressed in your favorite suit of his—you were certain he knew it was your favorite, you made a point to tell him that each time he wore it for games—and his hair was put together in a way that seemed effortless.

“Hi.” You breathed quietly, having to be the first to break the silence. He was still taking you in, his gaze raking up and down your figure in the outfit you had picked out weeks before. Like nothing changed, you felt a shiver run down your spine under his gaze.

“You look, wow.” He spoke, a reverence to his voice that had your heart beating faster. You knew being his plus one would be a challenge, but he was making it incredibly hard for you to focus on being just friends with him while he looked at you like that.

“You clean up nice yourself, Mr. Tkachuk.” You told him, the teasing a ghost of your past relationship with him you hoped would transfer to your new role as someone that he rejected. He chuckled, and you decided that maybe things wouldn’t have to change as much as you thought they would.

“Anything for you.” He hummed, and then like he hadn’t said that, he offered you his hand. You took it on instinct, slipping your hand in his and allowing him to pull you out of your apartment and into the elevator. Matt had ordered a car for the night, the same as he always did, and you smiled politely as he opened the door for you.

Even when you were both in the back of the car together, he slipped his hand back in yours, moving it into his lap so he could play with your fingers. You watched him carefully, wondering if he knew how much of an effect he had on you and he was doing it on purpose or if he was trying to make your friendship as normal as possible. You weren’t sure which one you preferred more.

You also wondered how long you’d be able to keep this up. How long you’d be able to stand by his side and pretend that you were perfectly fine with being nothing more than Matt’s friend. You were certain that if you had to sit by one more time and watch him flirt with someone else you’d be physically sick.

Small talk was made to fill the silence, but beneath that you could feel that there was something unsaid, something holding Matt back from being fully present with you. It hurt you to think that maybe that something holding him back was you and what you had said, but you knew you couldn’t have gone on much longer just pining away.

You just wished that Rasmus had been right about how Matt felt.

It didn’t take long for you to run into the other guys once in the venue for the charity gala, especially not with Matt leading you around with his hand dangerously low on the small of your back. You pretended to ignore the smug look Rasmus sent you as you greeted David with a hug, and after pleasantries were exchanged you found yourself tucked back into Matt’s side. You were chatting with one of the guys’ dates—you couldn’t remember who she came with, considering Matt’s touch was dizzying—when she asked you the one question you had been hoping to avoid all night.

“So are you guys together?”

She meant no harm by it, and you couldn’t blame her for asking, considering the fact that Matt had barely let you out of arm's reach since you arrived, but your smile still fell from your face. You saw recognition cross her face, knowing she must have realized that her assumption was incorrect, and you schooled your features into a polite and totally fake smile as she started sputtering out apologies.

“It’s fine, don’t worry about it.” You assured her, but she still looked horrified. You sympathized, you remembered how terrifying it was to first meet all the guys’ significant others for the first time—even though you were not one of the guys’ significant others, if the past few weeks taught you anything.

Her date came then to rescue her, Sam grinning at you as if he knew something you didn’t. You made a mental note to grill him about the new girl he was seeing and didn’t tell you about, but suddenly it was just you and Matt left standing by the bar. You turned to face him, only to find he was already watching you with a look that was a little too close to admiration for your liking.

“Have I told you how good you look?” He murmured, one hand falling to your hip as if he couldn’t help himself. You wanted to be mad. You wanted to scold him for toying with you despite knowing your feelings. But you couldn’t. Instead, you welcomed his touch and gave him a bright smile only he ever seemed to be able to drag out of you.

“Wouldn’t hurt to hear it again.” You mused playfully, distantly wondering just when it became so easy to talk to some that knew your feelings and didn’t reciprocate them. Matt chuckled at your comment, the sound lifting your heart momentarily.

“I’ll tell you that for the rest of my life.”

And that… felt way too much like something that it clearly wasn’t. Too much like a promise of forever that he couldn’t give you. That he wasn’t willing to give you.

Your smile faltered then, and Matt must have seen it because his did too and suddenly you were both looking at each with looks too somber for the mood of the gala going on around you. You hated it for a multitude of reasons, but the one that struck you the most was that no matter how normal things seemed, you being his plus one and hanging out with his teammates, things would never truly be normal. Your confession ruined things permanently with him, and you’d have to suffer the consequences.

Matt opened his mouth as if he was going to say something, but someone in an official looking suit approached and stole Matt’s attention from you. Even after the man said he needed to talk business with Matt, it took a second for him to look away from you, like it pained him to take his gaze off of you.

“Can we talk for a minute, Mr. Tkachuk?” The man asked, though you knew before he said anything he’d be pulling Matt away from you. Matt nodded politely, knowing he’d have to leave and go charm the rich guys. It was a charity gala, after all.

Before he left, though, he turned to you once more and bent down so he was level with your ear, lips brushing against your skin at his proximity and you felt a shiver run down your spine. It was quickly replaced with an ache in your chest, knowing that no matter how much you wanted to kiss him, it simply wasn’t in the card for you.

“Nate’s a lucky guy.” He whispered, breath blowing against your ear and you had to actively force yourself to not shut your eyes. He pulled back almost immediately, a grin much sadder than his previous business smile having found a home on his handsome face. He left you, then, confused about what he meant.

It took a moment, but you realized that he was talking about Nick, the guy you had gone on one date with. You rolled your eyes, knowing he mixed up the names on purpose—he did the same with your ex boyfriend, the one you had been dating when you became friends with the Flames. Matt made a point to call him by a different variation of his name each time, and by the end of the relationship, Kyle and somehow managed to change to Liam.

Before, you had held onto the hope that he did it because he was jealous. Now there wasn’t an excuse for his behavior. You doubted that he forgot, but at this point it made more sense to you than jealousy being the cause.

You weren’t alone long before Johnny joined you, leaning against the bar with a look you had seen several times before. Usually, though, it wasn’t directed at you.

“You went on date with someone?” He bypassed pleasantries, and you weren’t surprised, given the exasperated look on his face.

“Who told you, Rasmus or Matt?” You sighed, smiling politely at the bartender who placed in front of you the drink you had ordered soon after Matt left.

“Rasmus did. Matt hasn’t talked about you since he told me he loved you.” He sounded so sure of his words, like it was a fact such as the sky was blue and grass was green and Matthew loved you. But it wasn’t that simple, and you set the glass in your hand down on the counter, suddenly losing your desire for it.

“That’s… no, Johnny. He doesn’t.” You shook your head, focusing on everything, anything, but Johnny.

“He does, and so do you, so just talk to each other.” He sounded tired, and you wondered if he’d given this speech before. You wondered if he gave this speech to Matt, because you surely weren’t the only one in this situation that needed to be lectured. But then again, you knew firsthand how stubborn Matt could be.

“Look, he made it very clear that he didn’t feel the same. So I’m going to just be his friend, and that’s fine.” It certainly wasn’t fine, but you weren’t about to tell Johnny that. Not when you wanted nothing more than the conversation to be over.

“You two are ridiculous.” Johnny huffed, but then it was his turn to be swept off to sweet talk donors, and you gave him a tight smile as he left.

When Matt found you again later than evening, you were in a considerably worse mood than when he left. You were tired of hearing about how he loved you when just only three weeks prior you had left his apartment broken hearted. You weren’t mad at Johnny, you were certain you could never be mad at him, but the entire situation had you annoyed. Not even a light conversation with the wives and girlfriends of other players could fix your sour mood, so you barely paid Matt any attention when he slipped into the free seat next to you at one of the many tables set up in the ballroom.

Your phone was sitting innocently on top of the table, having been discarded there the moment you sat down and engaged Brodie’s wife in conversation. It buzzed halfway through an anecdote about the last roadie, and you picked it up to see you had a text.

“Is that from Nash?” Matt whispered in your ear, voice quiet so no one else at the table could hear. You shot him a pointed look, knowing who he was referring to. He misinterpreted your silence as a question, and you watched as a slight pout found its way onto his face. “That guy you went on a date with.”

“That’s Nick, and this is my mom.” You held up your phone, flashing him the screen so he saw that the name at the top of the conversation was not Nick or Nate or Nash or any other guy. “So try again, Matthew.”

“Wait, are you mad at me?” For a second, you could have sworn you saw a happy look in his eyes. It left as soon as he realized you called him by his full name and not any of the nicknames he was so accustomed to.

“I’m not talking about this here.” You whispered harshly, turning back to the table with the full intention of listening to whichever of the wives had taken over storytelling duty. You knew you were being short with Matt, but your conversation with Johnny had left a sour taste on your tongue and a heavy weight in your chest.

“Fine.” Matt replied, and you stupidly thought that would be the end of the discussion until the end of the night. But you should have known better, should have known Matthew better, because suddenly he was taking a hold of your hand and pulling you up and out of your chair.

“Matt, what—” You started, but he wasn’t even looking at you. He was facing the table of concerned wives and girlfriends, all of them trying to figure out what was going on between you and Matt. All of them except for Johnny’s girlfriend, who was grinning like the cat that got the canary.

“We’re heading out, tell the boys I left.” He told them, and you barely got the chance to say goodbye before Matt was leading you out of the venue, handing out excuses over his shoulder to men in suits you knew for a fact he was supposed to be stopping and talking to. One man jumped in front of Matt to stop him, and Matt stopped so abruptly you nearly crashed into him.

“Matthew, do you have a minute to talk about your point predictions this season?” The man asked as a mere formality. If his appearance told you anything, it was that he was one of the rich donors Matt was supposed to charm for the evening.

“I can’t, sir, my girlfriend isn’t feeling well and I’ve got to take her home.” Matt lied easily, though it didn’t seem much like a lie with the way your face paled at the fake title he gave you in order to get out of the situation. It wasn’t the first time he’d pretended to be your boyfriend, he’d done it a dozen and one times while out at bars and clubs to get random guys to stop talking to you. But it carried a different weight now, now that he knew how you felt and now that you had been rejected by him.

“Ah, well, you better get her home.” The man said, but you barely registered it. Your stomach was in knots and your lips were pursed into a tight line, and even in the car on the way back to your apartment you didn’t say a word. Matt kept his hand in yours, though, and you were certain that the only thing keeping you grounded at the moment was his thumb brushing comfortingly over the back of your hand.

You led the way into your apartment and left Matthew to shut the door as you changed into a pair of sleep shorts and a baggy sweatshirt you were certain was probably his. He had already made himself comfortable on your couch, his suit jacket tossed over the back of your arm chair. He had loosened his tie and it was clear that he had been running his hands through his hair, and he looked entirely like the boyfriend you wanted but couldn't have.

You waited for him to speak first, making a point to scroll through your phone instead of meeting his gaze that fell heavy on you. If he was going to drag you out of the gala, then he was going to have to explain why. He cleared his throat after minute five of nothing but tense silence in your living room.

“Rasmus told me that you bailed on your date after I called.”

Of course he did, you thought, making a mental note to lecture the defenseman about keeping secrets the next time you saw him. You didn’t look at Matt as you nodded, but you did turn off your phone and drop it into your lap.

“Good, that’s—yeah, good.” He nodded to himself, and something inside you snapped. Your brows tugged together like you were trying to solve something complex and annoyance bubbled up in your chest.

“I tell you how I feel and you let me down, so I move on.” You started, voice firm despite the fact you felt your resolve breaking down. You had assumed that you’d go on to live the rest of your life never addressing what happened at Matthew’s, but now you were bringing it all back up. “I go on a blind date and you get annoyed. If we can’t be friends anymore then just tell me because I can—”

“I love you.” Matt interrupted, rushing to assure you that not having you in his life was something he absolutely did not want.

“I—what?” You stopped, feeling your heart stop and blood freeze. That was the exact last thing you expected to hear him say, and who could really blame you, considering the way things ended the last time you talked about your feelings with him. “No, you don’t.”

“Yes, I do.” He hurried to correct you. Your look of confusion only deepened, a frown etched into your face as you tried to figure out what angle Matt was working. He shifted from his spot on the opposite end of your couch to directly beside you. “Johnny knocked some sense into me the other day.”

“What day?” You asked slowly and quietly. You knew Matt would never do anything to hurt you and pretending to love you the way you loved him would certainly count as hurting you, but the instant trust wasn’t there. You were protecting yourself, slowly opening up instead of immediately jumping into his arms.

“Twenty minutes before I called you when you were on your date with Noah.”

“Nate.” You corrected, sounding a little too winded for having just been sitting on the couch. But Matt had an effect on you and you were certain he always would.

“Nick, but nice try.” Matt smirked and it was then that you realized you had screwed up your own date’s name. You didn’t care in the slightest about Noah or Nate or Nash or whoever he was, because Matt was sitting before you and Matt was offering you his heart.

“You really love me?” You asked, teetering on the edge of giving into Matt. You saw something akin to heartbreak flash in his eyes, a result of you even questioning his love. He nodded, then, slowly and calmly and you were certain that was the only time you had even seen Matt do something slowly and calmly. “Then do something about it, please.”

He wasted no time then in connecting his lips to yours in a kiss so long awaited the entire world slipped away in an instant. Before, Matt was overt in his affection, kisses pressed to your cheeks and forehead and hands and shoulders—anywhere but your lips. You’d always had an idea of what Matt’s lips on yours would feel like, but nothing could have prepared you for the feeling of being kissed so soundly by the love of your life—of being kissed by Matt.

It could have been ten seconds or ten minutes, but you felt breathless by the time Matt pulled back. He was grinning from ear to ear, a look you were certain was mirrored on your face. No words were shared, at first, and he brushed a strand of hair out of your face in an act so tender and so intimate you felt yourself falling for him all over again.

“Was that good enough?” Matt teased, and despite that fact that you rolled your eyes you chased after his lips for another kiss. He hummed in content against you, which elicited a giggle from you and soon you were both in a fit of laughter on your couch for no good reason other than the fact that you were two idiots in love.

“So Johnny talked to you, huh?” You questioned, catching your breath. Matt rolled his eyes, clearly remembering how Johnny told him to get his shit together. He replied with a nod, wrapping an arm around your shoulders to pull you closer to him.

“Told me that I loved you, made me realize I’m an idiot.” He explained, a lightness in his voice as he admired you openly. You had his undivided attention, a fact that made your heart soar.

“You kinda were an idiot.” You teased, earning no argument and a laugh from him. You couldn’t help yourself, then, leaning up to press a kiss to the corner of his lips. He didn’t let you retreat far, chasing after your lips for a series of short and sweet kisses. Finally, after what could have been an eternity later, you parted and dropped your head against his shoulders.

“I’m sorry I let you walk away.” He told you sadly, his tone serious and sentence punctuated by kisses pressed to the top of your head. His somber mood should have transferred to you, but you were riding the high of being loved by him so wholly you felt it to the tips of your toes.

“As long as you never do it again.” You told him. You were smiling, certain that you wouldn't be able to stop smiling for the next few weeks. And, slowly, the expression was mirrored on Matt’s face and nothing but honesty flooded his crystal blue eyes as he spoke next.

“Never.”

Never, for Matthew, was the only option.

[missdawnandherdusk]

I’ve Got You

Gryffindor!Reader X Draco Malfoy

Requested: @queenofmankind​ Hii! can I request a small oneshot for Draco x Gryffindor reader based on the song “I Got You” by Leona Lewis please if that’s not too much? Thank you! 

A/n: Okay this is in no way “short” though I suppose by my normal works it is, only about 3.5k. But I hope it’s what you were after and may I just say it is an amazingly precious song by oh my stars does it sound like the early 2000s of my youth. Also sorry it took so long to get around to, I’m very particular about music (because I have synesthesia with music among other things) but I absolutely love how this turned out!!  Let me know what you guys think and watch these dorks pine after each other. 

“Malfoy?” I looked up from the rack of new quills. “What are you doing in this part of town?”

The blond hair boy stared at me shocked, as if my acknowledgement of him was unbelievable. He rolled his eyes and went back to looking at new rolls of parchment.

“Oh, come on really? You’re gonna be like that?” Crossing my arms, I turned and faced him completely.

“Be like what?” He snapped, his eyes cold and defensive. “In case you have noticed, we don’t like each other!”

“And in case you haven’t noticed, it’s the summer, and I never said I didn’t like you. Not that I do like you particularly,” I muttered under my breath.

“So, what that it’s the summer?” His words were quick and sharp.

“Well, I mean, right now, I’m not a Gryffindor and you’re not a Slytherin. You’re just Malfoy,” A smile played at my lips. “Or have you forgotten?”

“How can you say something like that? Of course, you’re still a Gryffindor and I’m still a Slytherin. That’s how this works!”

“But it doesn’t have to,” I held out the parchment I knew he was looking for because I had seen him use it all year.

“Of course, it does!” He snatched the parchment from my hand. “If we’re not our Houses what are we?” The words were like ice, but they didn’t faze me.

“Maybe, I don’t know... people?” I rolled my eyes, shaking my head at the seemingly lost cause. “Don’t be a stranger Malfoy,”

His dumbfounded look had me laughing to myself as I exited the small shop, and stepped out onto the lane, smiling up at the rain that came down.

........................................

The next time I saw him, was just before the school year started. We both wound up looking for the same book together. There was a challenge in his eyes—the book was elusive: who would find it first.

“Ha!” I called, holding up the book victoriously.

Draco’s head popped up from a few rows away. He sulked, making his way over to me. I handed him the copy and went to look for another... that wasn’t there. Draco seemed to realize that too.

“Here,” He scoffed, shoving the book back into my hands. “You found it first.”

“No, it’s alright,” I smiled, not taking it. “I can buy it second hand, I don’t have a problem with that,” There was a slight accusation in my tone that Draco seemed to pick up on.

Rolling his eyes at me, he stormed off, book in his hands. I remained near the shelves, looking to see if I had missed another copy indeed, but it was in vain. Sighing, I stood. Until I heard a familiar voice ranting near the counter of the shop. A very scared store clerk rushed away, ducking into the back of the store, coming out with another copy of the book we had just been arguing over.

An annoy smirk was on Draco’s face as he gave me the one from the shelf.

“This one had no doubt been touched by a mudblood.” He sneered. “How dare the clerk think I would buy such a thing,”

Tried as he might, I saw right through his little charade.

“Okay, Malfoy,” I chuckled, hugging the book to my chest. “Sure thing,”

“And besides. I owe you for finding that parchment. I don’t like being in people’s debt,” His mask was stoic and unfeeling.

“It’s not about—” I tried as he walked away.

I let out an annoyed growl that faded to a smile as I caught his eye as he left the shop. There was a smile on his face as he looked back at me.

........................................

As soon as we were back on school grounds, he was a Slytherin and I was a Gryffindor again. But maybe we weren’t. Maybe we were... people.

When I found Draco asleep in the library late one night, hunched over his Potions notes, I found myself smiling at him. He wasn’t a Slytherin then, he wasn’t even Malfoy... he was Draco.

“Draco,” I whispered softly, nudging his arm. “Draco, wake up,” I whispered a bit harsher.

Blue eyes flashed open, his wand at the ready as he almost fell out of his chair—if I hadn’t caught him.

“I got you,” I helped him stand. “What are you doing here? It’s the middle of the night.”

 He rubbed his face and leaned against the desk that protruded from the shelves of books. 

“Studying,” His voice sounded annoyed and groggy.

“Oh, I’m sure,” There was a smirk on my lips. “Go to bed, Draco, you’re exhausted.” 

“You’re just saying that, so you’ll beat me on the exam tomorrow,” He sulked.

I almost rolled my eyes.

“Yes, because your grades are much more important to me than your well-being,” I drawled. “Don’t be stupid Draco, go to bed.” I annunciated each word.

“I’m not being stupid, and I don’t need you looking after me! We’re not friends and I don’t like you! Now stop acting like I do and leave me alone!” He snapped, grabbing his notes and storming out of the library, leaving me there, dumbfounded and hurt.

A deep breath in and out, and the hurt faded. I raised my head and walked out of the library behind him. For better or worse, he was on my mind as I laid in bed that night, and all the while the next day as we took our Potions exam under Snape’s watchful eye.

Our interactions throughout the years stayed at about that level. I’d catch him in a moment when he needed help but wouldn’t admit it, and I wouldn’t hesitate.

........................................

It happened when I was going back to my dorm after prefect duty and Draco was avoiding Filch like the plague. I said nothing but grabbed his hand and shoved him into a nearby classroom, standing guard outside. As Filch passed, I smiled and nodded, and he left without suspicion.

“If you ever—” Draco seethed, white hot fury on his face that honestly scared me. He towered over me this year.

“You’re welcome,” I snapped, heading back toward my dorm, my fists clenched, tears in my eyes.

“Stupid, stupid, stupid!” I yelled at myself. “What is wrong with you?” I met my reflection in the mirror. A confused, hurt girl looked back.

You care for him, she seemed to say back.

........................................

It happened again when he and Harry fought after the quidditch game. Hermione aided Harry, and no one dared go near Draco, who was bleeding and appeared downright dangerous. As soon as the crowds left, I saw Draco try to take a step forward and stumble. Rushing forward, I grabbed his arm and slung it around my shoulders.

“I got you,” I murmured encouragingly.

He didn’t seem to have an insult to throw at me as I took him to madam Pomfrey. I didn’t stay as soon as he was in her care. Instead, like a true Gryffindor, I fled the scene and broke down in tears in a nearby hallway. Hermione found me and wrapped her arm around my shoulder.

“It’ll be alright,” She encouraged. “You’ll be alright,” 

........................................

And again. It was sixth year. I had watched Draco go from an annoying git to looking like death walking. The night after Harry did something that I would never forgive him for, I found Draco curled up in the Astronomy Tower, a mostly empty bottle of Fire Whiskey gripped tightly in his hand. Worry grew in my chest as I wrestled the bottle from his hands.

“Did you drink all of this?” I shrieked. “Of all the stupid insolent thoughtless reckless idiotic things you could have done!” I didn’t even know how to end the insult.

“I’m fine,” He slurred. “You worry about me too much,” His head lulled back, half opened eyes looking up at me, an amused smile on his face.

“Oh, I worry just enough for your sorry ass,” I growled, helping him to his feet. “Come on, we have to get you back to your dorm,”

“You’re bossy,” He leaned most of his weight on me, tripping and nearly face planting on the first step he tried to take. The curse that tumbled from his lips caught me off guard.

“Merlin, Draco.” I groaned, helping him back up. “Oh, I am never going to hear the end of this,” Muttering to myself, I draped my robe around him.

“Get this fucking thing off me,” He sloppily fumbled, attempting to dislodge my robe from around his shoulders. “Bloody Gryffindor,”

“You’re making this very difficult,” I growled, resorting to actually carrying him with the aid of a Levitating Spell.

“But that’s how you like me,” Draco smirked, his head falling back. “Little Gryffindor can’t leave the Slytherin prince.”

“More like Slytherin damsel in distress,” I muttered under my breath, walking up to the Gryffindor portrait.

The Fat Lady eyed us both. I gave her a pleading look with the password said and she let us in. Thanking the stars that the common room was empty, I quickly hurried up the stairs, marveling that they didn’t fall out from under me. Who knew that carrying a boy up the stairs would work?

“Put me down!” Draco whined.

I obliged and dropped him on my bed. Locking the door and practically barricading the room, I paced my floor trying to figure out what to do with the very drunk very ostentatious Draco who was lounging across my bed.

“Of all the times I imagined your bedroom, I didn’t expect this,” His eyes followed the walls of my room that were covered in my favorite paintings and hanging plant vases.

My cheeks flushed as I realized that he just admitted to thinking about my room. More than once. I shoved that thought aside and started to think about what to do with him. What was I supposed to do with him?

Sighing, I resulted to taking care of him.

“I’m going to take my robe off of you. And yours,” I whispered softly, nearing him. 

“Stripping me already? Isn’t that a bit forward?” He grinned. “Never took you as the type.” 

“For the love of Merlin, shut the fuck up right now,” I begged, squeezing my eyes shut. 

“Ooooh, I don’t think I’ve ever heard that pretty mouth curse before.”

I paced away from him and clenched my fists, fighting the urge to punch him in the face. Six years. Six years he never once batted an eyelash at me. Never showed an inkling of care and this is what it took? Him wasted and not thinking correctly?

Inhaling deeply, I ignored all of the other words that came from his mouth with great difficulty as I got his robe off as well as his tie and sweater. Tugging him off the bed, I lead him to the small bathroom that was allotted to my prefect dorm. Draco slumped down on the toilet. Rummaging around in the back of my med kit, I found what I was looking for, something I had bought off of Fred and George: anti-nausea tablets. It was intended for use after throwing up tablets to get out of class, but I figured it was better to keep them on hand.

“Here,” I offered it to Draco with a glass of water. “We need to sober you up,”

“I’m fine,” He slurred again, leaning against the cool tile of the shower. 

“No, you’re not. Draco.” I bit out and took a deep breath. “Please,”

“Whatever,” He grumbled and took the glass of water and tablet, downing both. Some color returned to his face and I sighed in relief. “Why is it so damn hot in here?” He groaned, easily slipping his shirt over his head.

I gasped, seeing the angry red gashes littered across his creamy skin. My eyes followed them over his shoulders and down his arms, to where something else resided, having my stomach churning.

“Draco you didn’t,” I squeaked out, taking his left arm, tears in my eyes. “Tell me you didn’t!”

“I had to; The Dark Lord was going to kill me family... kill me.” His words were surprisingly calm, all things considered.

Tears streamed down my face as I reached up to stroke his face, there was a sadness that lingered in his eyes. He was a broken man in my hands. I ran the water from the faucet, running a washcloth under it, wringing it out, then crouching down between his legs.

“I’m gonna clean you up, alright?” I whispered softly.

He didn’t speak. His eyes stayed trained on me. The garnet cloth was a stark contrast to Draco’s marble skin.

“Why are you so kind to me?” He mumbled out. “I’ve been an arse to you for years...”

“Because,” I smiled softly, delicately wiping the sweat from his face. “Against my better judgement, I’ve got you Malfoy.”

His eyes slipped closed and his weight slumped against me.

“Draco? Draco!?” I tilted his chin back, kneeling before him. “Wake up! Come on asshole, wake up!” There were tears in my eyes as his blue eyes fluttered open.

“Your eyes have flecks of gold in them,” He slurred out, his hand clumsily brushing the hair from my face.

“Okay pretty boy,” I smiled. “Let’s get you to bed,”

It took some effort and a bit more arguing, but he was curled up on top of my sheets, sleeping on his side. I let out a defeated sigh and pulled my desk chair beside his head and sat there, picking up my book, keeping mind to wake him every so often to drink water and to make sure that he was sobering up. Sometime around four in the morning, I felt sure enough to let him sleep off the rest of the alcohol as I folded myself in the chair, watching him until my eyes became too heavy to open again.

In the morning, he was gone. There wasn’t a trace of him left. The bed was made properly, his clothes had vanished, the washcloth I had used was dried and folded back in the cupboard. Looking around there was no evidence except my dislodged desk chair that last night wasn’t a dream.

It broke my heart more than it should have.

When our eyes caught in the halls, he looked away and rushed the other way, leaving me staring after him and Hermione pulling at my arm, reminding me we were going to be late.

He avoided me the rest of the year. 

I didn’t see him that summer.

I avoided him seventh year.

 Almost. 

........................................

Draco crashed into me one night. Fear struck my heart because I was out past curfew, getting a blanket from a first years dorm that they had forgotten to bring to the Room of Requirement. He almost didn’t notice me, there were tears in his eyes.

Then he yanked my arm hard and shoved me against the wall, his wand under my throat. 

“You shouldn’t be in the halls,” He hissed, almost in hysterics. “What are you thinking!?”

I held my tongue, tensing for the Cruciatus Curse that I knew was coming. It was an all too common punishment these days. Seconds dragged on as we stared each other down. Then, he backed away, catching me when I stumbled at the lack of support.

“Now we’re even,”

Then he stalked down the hall in the opposite direction.

“Draco,” His name fell from my lips without my permission as my feet followed his. “Draco, please,”

“I won’t be forgiving twice,” He growled, keeping his brisk pace.

“Fine,” I pulled his hand, making him stop. “Do whatever you want to me. Snap at me, insult me, leave me, torture me, I don’t care, but Draco I ask one thing,” My voice wavered as tears pricked my eyes. “When are you going to see that this has never been about keeping score?”

His snarled faced fell into the same broken look that haunted his features about a year ago. His hand raised, and I flinched involuntarily, but there was no need. His arms curled around me, pulling me to him. I froze. He inhaled deeply then released me.

Wordlessly he left. 

And this time I watched him go.

........................................

His eyes met mine as we stared at each other from different sides of the same war.

Then he was gone.

This time I knew the heartbreak was coming. I just didn’t know how much it would shatter me. 

.......................................

It had been a few months since the Battle of Hogwarts. There was a knock on my apartment door. Night hung in the air.

“Mr. Weasley? Draco?” I frowned.

“Alright Draco, you know the rules,” Mr. Weasley gestured. “Five minutes.” I let the blond- haired man into my apartment.

“Please, I don’t have a lot of time.” His voice was barely a whisper.

“Alright...” I closed and locked the door behind him.

He stood in front of my small hearth, his back to me, watching the dying flames. 

“Draco?” I asked, taking a step towards him.

“My... my trial is tomorrow,” The words scarcely left his lips at an audible volume. “They... they say I can call any witness... to speak on my behalf... Harry would be my best bet, but he would never but I thought maybe you would—” He stopped short, turning to face me. “I don’t deserve to ask this of you,” His blue eyes scrutinized mine, holding all the sadness of the world. “But please,”

“Give me a time and place,” I said without second thought. “I’ve got you, Draco,” A smile touched my lips.

A strangled cry of relief left his lips as he pulled me into his arms. I don’t know how long we stood there, holding each other. There was another knock on the door. Five minutes was up. Mr. Weasley gave the information for the trial, and his best, before apperating away.

I wasted no time going around to every classmate I could find, not giving in until they promised to be there tomorrow too. When Harry agreed, I sagged in relief and pulled him into a hug. Maybe, after all this time, I could forgive Harry for nearly killing Draco after all.

After the trial—and the witness accounts of nearly fifty Hogwarts Alumni that Draco was a victim of war—is when Draco broke down crying into my arms, away from the cameras and the crowds. I held him and rubbed his back softly.

“I’ve got you,” I soothed. “It’s alright. You’re alright, Draco.” 

........................................

The next few days, Draco wound up on my doorstep in the waking hours of the night, trembling. Claiming that he couldn’t sleep at the Manor because of what memories haunted him there. Again, he begged for my kindness, whispering that he knew he didn’t deserve it, crying because he desperately needed it anyway.

After a while, I simply invited him over for dinner then to spend the night. There was no use denying that he was going to wind up here anyway.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” I rolled my eyes. “You’re not sleeping on the couch. You’re like six foot four, Draco.” I crossed my arms in indigitation. “Take my bed and I’ll sleep on the couch,”

“No, that’s just wrong,” He argued. “I’m imposing on you, I can deal with a bloody couch,”

“Draco,” I scolded, fighting the urge to stomp my foot. “Take—the—fucking—bed—you— asshole,”

An amused smile played at his lips as I glared up at him. He didn’t argue back, however, to my surprise. When I was finally grasping at sleep—not because of the stupid couch—there was a creak in the floorboards and the sound of socks against hardwood. They paused in front of me and I felt arms pull me into their grasp, cradling me.

“Draco?” I slurred sleepily. “Put me down,” It was nearly a whine. 

He shushed me softly. “I’ve got you,”

That was the first night we both found sleep and comfort in each other’s arms. And it surely wasn’t the last. Draco moved in about a month later, and the first thing he did was buy a bigger bed for the both of us—and a longer couch.

........................................

Months turned into years. Nervous butterflies turned into ‘I love you’s. Night terrors turned into nightmares turned into peaceful nights. Night turned into day. Traitor turned to Co-Trainee Healer turned to Co-Head Healer. Girlfriend turned into fiancée turned into wife. Boy turned into man turned into father. Fears turned to memories. Moments turned into photo albums.

One thing never changed: You always had Draco Malfoy.

. 

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[leonameowzz]

TW Boys vs Durians

So my dad just bought some durian puffs for the family & that’s what prompted me to write this 😂😂 I personally love durians but ik there are many who can’t stand the smell. Just curious dear readers, but how do you feel about durians?

Scenario: G/N!MC feeling homesick and craving food from home asked Sam if he was able to obtain durians for them. The businessman was glad to oblige, for a decent price of course! How he gets them we will never know, but now MC has a whole bunch of these exotic fruit, so they set out to each dorm wanting to share some and feeling curious about everyone’s reactions.

*Bonus: Grim literally eats suspicious looking black rocks off the ground, so eating a durian is nothing special to him as he wolfs down the fruit hungrily. The Ramshackle dorm will definitely reek of said fruit for many days but neither of the occupants really mind~*

Riddle wrinkles his nose after catching a whiff of the durians. Because of his strict upbringing, he never got to eat too many different types of food unless his mother told him to. However being the dorm leader, he knew he had to set a good example to his dorm members, so he bravely took the first bite. It was definitely a strange flavour but he didn’t seem to mind too much.

Trey has actually heard of durians before given that his family runs a bakery, although he has never tried them. He gets used to the strong smell pretty fast and asks MC if he could keep some to use in baking for the next Unbirthday party. MC happily agrees and recommends making puffs, crepes and even chocolates.

Cater probably has the worst reaction out of all the Heartslabyul guys. He immediately backs up after smelling the fruit, refusing to get closer even with ADeuce constantly teasing him. It’s only when MC remarks that it would make for a pretty popular Magicam post does Cater approach, quickly using his camera’s burst mode to snap multiple photos.

Ace being quite adaptable, also gets used to the strong smell easily. He’s usually up for a little challenge and doesn’t mind trying out this new fruit. It didn’t go as smoothly as he hoped due to the mushy consistency but he managed to swallow his bite by downing it with some water.

Deuce is not the most enthusiastic about trying out this foreign food and the smell definitely didn’t help, but he musters up the courage to try it anyway, since it was MC who brought it. Didn’t help that Ace definitely taunted him to eat it. He actually takes it pretty well (even better than Ace), shyly remarking that he had eaten some pretty nasty stuff during his delinquent days.

Leona picks up on the foul scent of durian from a mile away, and it’s safe to say that this lion is definitely not eating whatever “fruit from hell” as he calls it, that MC had brought. He grumbles to them to remove it immediately as he doesn’t want to stink up the entire dorm, especially his room. MC had anticipated that reaction but comments slyly how lucky they were to be graced by the presence of two kings that day. (Durians are known as the king of fruits & Leona will always be king in my heart)

Jack initially thinks that MC had brewed a potion wrongly or something because they smelt weird. After explaining the situation, Jack apologetically declines trying some due to his sensitive nose and MC totally understands. Though they can’t help pouting slightly since they realized no one from this dorm would want to eat durians because of the off-putting smell.

Ruggie is the only Savanaclaw member who dares approach MC from the mention of food. Are they sure it’s not rotten? He can’t help feel suspicious because of the scent but decides to take MC’s word for it. With his deft hands, he swiftly takes some durian flesh and stuffs it into his mouth, while pinching his nose with his other hand. Secretly he willingly ate it knowing that he would be able to slack off on Leona’s duties since the scent would be stuck on him.

Azul gingerly pokes at the soft durian flesh as it oddly reminds him of his squishy octo-form. This is certainly something you don’t see everyday and he’s contemplating if it would be able to sell well in Mostro Lounge. He urges MC to share their findings regarding everyone’s reactions with him, promising to sign a mutually beneficial contract with them should the majority response be positive.

Floyd exclaims loudly about the durian odour but doesn’t seem too put off by it. He is definitely intrigued and even tries chomping on it in an effort to see which is stronger: his sharp teeth or the durian spikes, much to MC’s horror. He remarks that the texture is similar to the shellfish that he eats, and probably the only reason he’ll eat more is to tease people who hate the smell.

Jade is also intrigued but has a more subdued reaction as compared to Floyd. He’s not one to shy away from questionable food being a mushroom collector. He politely accepts the piece offered to him, thanking them for letting him try something new. Like Trey, he asks MC to let him keep some so that he may try experimenting with it for a new menu item.

Kalim is excited when MC cheerfully offers him some durian to eat as usually it’s the other way around where he throws a huge feast for them instead. He does comment on how it smells funky but doesn’t hesitate to taste it (at least after Jamil tried it first). Kalim has had his fair share of exotic foods so isn’t too bothered by the texture or smell. While the durian could never compare to his favourite coconut, he still enjoys it nonetheless.

Jamil isn’t too bothered by the smell either since he’s used to the scent of strong spices in their cooking. Besides he knows he will have to try it first regardless, since Kalim would be eating it. He is still thankful towards MC and even brews some refreshing tea to pair with the durian. Jamil chides Kalim who initially suggests throwing a durian party, but wouldn’t be against making some durian chips with MC since it was simple enough.

Vil is surprisingly not bothered by the strong smell, though he does remind MC to stay outside the dorm so as not to frazzle the other students. As a dignified celebrity he must always keep his cool, though he is tempted to eat some after hearing that the fruit is rich in nutrients and promotes healthy skin. Unfortunately he can’t due to having a photoshoot later but he’s definitely down to try some on his off days.

Rook is caught off guard initially, both from the appearance and smell of durian. He’s quick to recover but declines trying some, mentioning how he has to refrain from standing out when stalking his prey. Also MC swears they heard Rook muttering something about turning the spiky shell into a hunting weapon of sorts, though they choose to brush it off for their own safety.

Epel brushes off the smell like it’s nothing, which makes sense given his upbringing (I mean he literally made his own fertilizer and wasn’t fazed by that stench at all!)  He’s eager to try some stating how manly it would make him since even the Savanaclaw people didn’t dare eat it, and ends up really enjoying it.

Idia panics upon seeing MC approaching his room holding the durian, thinking he is about to be attacked. Is this revenge for him beating them during the recent gaming night? And wow the smell was definitely something... He sarcastically remarks that if the spikes weren’t enough to kill anyone, the smell would definitely finish them off. Not to worry though, Idia has a super air filtration system built into his room that nullifies the stench easily.

Ortho is busy scanning this fascinating fruit and updating his already extensive database. Even if he can’t actually taste or smell it, he does want to be knowledgeable about it since MC claimed that it was one of their favourite foods.

Malleus is grateful that MC considers him a close enough friend to let him try something from their home. Humans certainly eat some interesting things don’t they? Still he feels some sort of kinship towards this fruit, perhaps it’s how the exterior seems intimidating to many, in contrast to its soft interior. He teases MC to be careful when handling the fruit so that they don’t prick their finger on the sharp spikes.

Lilia doesn’t hesitate to pluck a piece of durian from MC while hanging down from the ceiling and proceeds to munch on it, not fazed at all. He smugly states that it’s an acquired taste and thanks MC for letting him taste such exquisite food. His eyes twinkle in excitement when MC recounts how delicious durian ice cream is and volunteers to make some for the rest of dorm.

Silver is definitely woken up by the sudden pungent smell but relaxes after seeing his master and father calmly eating away. Lilia encourages him to try some which he accepts, although he falls asleep again not too long after. It is definitely a rare sight as no woodland animals gather near Silver that day, most likely avoiding him due to the smell.

Sebek almost screamed at MC for bringing something so foul-smelling into their dorm but held his tongue after seeing how excited they were. He would be spurred on to try some since Malleus had no problem eating it despite really not liking what he was about to put in his mouth. After all he couldn’t call himself a bodyguard if such a trivial fruit stumped him. 

[honestsycrets]

Never and Always II: A Cold Bath.

❛ pairing | ivar x reader

❛ type | multi

❛ summary | hvitserk wants to take an ice bath. oleg questions the reader about england.

❛  tags | verbal arguments, fear of Ivar, reader attempts to jump in sea, athelstansdaughter!reader, possible triangles, ivar isn’t the villain, implied previous ivar x reader, nsfw-borederline, oblivious hvitserk

The ice is frosty under your ass. A circle of ice had been cut, as you were told, for Oleg’s beautiful wife. After she was done with it, Hvitserk had this great idea. He slung his forest green tunic to the ground and unraveled his pants, all while you held your face between your fingertips. His hands ran together as he warmed himself up from the cold that slurried through the air toward his pale cheeks.

“What are you hiding for?” he laughs.

He’s in. You hear his body dip in-- but more than that, you feel his large hands on your calves, working up your dress from your knees. You squeak and peek through your eyes. His broad shoulders look… you gasp in a breath. He’s beautiful under the warm light of your room, when he’s pulling on his tunic, but better like this. When his blotchy and black tattoos are complemented by the frosty air. His hacksilver pendant rests on his hirsute chest. Just waiting for you to join in.

“Hvitserk, don’t--” you squeak, finding that his hands have left for the many ties on your sides. “I don’t have anything under this!”

He glances around. The unmoving guards are turned around. Like anyone would care to watch you. You might be a princess: but you’re far removed from the lines of royalty by which name you claimed.

“Since when have you cared?” Hvitserk mumbles, working them free. “Lift your hips.”

You obey. He adds another piece of clothing to the pile to the left of him, averting his eyes to yours. Was he looking? As Hvitserk offers up his battle-worn hands to yours, you realize he isn’t. He helps you scoot off the ledge and into the waiting waters-- and into his arms. Your chest bumps into his, cool waters hardening your nipples into erect peaks.

“It’s cold--” you excuse, setting your hand on top of his chest for support. You can’t help yourself: you swathe your fingers over his hacksilver pendant, tracing the golden corners of it nestled between golden hairs. His eyes linger on your finger. “I’m surprised you still have this.”

“Why?”

You press your lips together. “Paris was a long time ago, Hvitserk.”

He urges you back against the wall of ice to allow for some well-deserved distance between your bodies. You’re at a lack for his warmth, the way his hairy chest felt against your breast, or the way you had to ignore his nether regions as he swam in place.

“Not in my mind. In my mind, it was a day ago,” Hvitserk reaches for a pitcher of mead. How it isn’t iced over by now, you’re not sure. He gives you a cup and takes one for himself. “Have you and Ivar…”

“No,” you cut him off. “Not after he left my room.”

He drinks a full swash, bouncing between his pale cheeks before swallowing. You flush. “He hasn’t forgiven you.”

More than me, you’re reminded. The way his nostrils flared or heat behind his dark eyes. You’re a long way from Kattegat, but what happened… it’s there with you. You turn over in the icy pool and allow your hips to float freely while in thought. More than Ivar.

“He’ll get over it, Thor willing.”

Hvitserk joins you and finishes his drink. “We all thought he would marry you.”

You pour yourself another drink. “He proposed to me.”

“And you said…?”

You bore into the reflection of the cup.

“I don’t want to talk about this anymore.”

“Very well,” Hvitserk sighed, shifting himself around. With his back to the ice, he settles his arms back on the wall to balance himself. “You shouldn’t wear those rags from home. They do nothing for your body.”

The rags from home were safe. The clothes that Katya had given you were… showy. They were meant to make a spectacle. While here among the Rus, that was not what you wanted to do. You peer over to Hvitserk, “What would you know of my body?”

“I know you’ve filled out,” Hvitserk answers with his head tipped back. He lifts his head again, moving to sock your arm with his closed fist. “You should flaunt it. We might need a woman’s touch with Oleg.”

“I plan to keep myself as far away from that dog as possible.” You snap, turning your face down into your arm. Whatever the reason Hvitserk wanted you to dress more… alluringly, it was wrapped in political conquest. He noticed your body and yet, the moment that you waited for? It was… bittersweet. It was a pawn in the game of chess. “He has plenty of whores.”

“Not English princesses,” Hvitserk says pointedly.

“I am not English. I am heathen,” you splash your drink in his face. Hvitserk flicks his head to the side and then up. In that short expanse of time, you’ve pulled yourself out of the water. He watches as you snatch your brown bag of a dress and yank it over your head. “And you are a fool to think otherwise.”

“Princess,” he reaches out, catching your thigh in his sturdy grip. He applies an amazing amount of pressure to keep you in place until he can slip between your legs, floating whilst you pull the dress down. “I know I am, but I am a fool who wants to keep you alive.”

You slide out from underneath him. You could do that yourself.

Your little servant knew you hated the dress. Not minding that your legs were accustomed to slacks or that… your usual staples were drab. She was in tune with every instance of uncertainty you had. She’s a mouse of a girl, small but soft and loving. Her soft brown eyes pale and her body thin, she makes herself smaller when Hvitserk enters the room.

“What do you think?” you ask her honest opinion, spinning in place, and stopping to look at the woman in the mirror. She’s foreign to you. You gestured to your gown. “You think the boys will approve?”

She clasps her hands together, nodding with a bob of her long veil. She grins a wide gap-toothed smile.

“Why don’t you speak?” you ask her. “Are you mute?”

You swap a look as Hvitserk bounces past the wooden room divider and seizes your wrist. You had questions the girl whose presence flooded the room like a shadow and yet still slept in a bed near the door.

“There you are. You took my advice,” there’s a slight pause, then a smile. “Come, Ivar is waiting for us to say hello to Prince Oleg and his wife. Is this gold?”

There’s only so much you can ask of your Hvitserk now that he was awake and well. Apparently asking that he be attentive was too much to ask of him. His mind is constantly running; even when he is quiet.

“Yes, I think so.”

“It’s nice,” he remarks of the dress. You don’t know why you expected more. Or why it hurt when he glazed it over so easily. As though it meant nothing to him when it felt like it should have meant something. Of course, it meant nothing, you reminded yourself. He didn’t know it should mean something.

“I will see you soon,” you call back to your slave girl. She waves curtly and picks up the strewn clothes around the room.

The floors in Oleg’s castle seem to stretch for miles. All virtually the same; minus the change in the appearance of the guard. Some tall, some short. They all have the same dark hair and hard black eyes. You fiddle with the pendant of Thor that hands above your chest at Ivar’s room. Hvitserk dips inside, and moments later, appears with your once-was lover.

Ivar seems to wear all the same clothes. Baggy, ill-formed, horrendously brown. If you had to see Ivar in brown, you preferred the tunics from home. Shaped to his muscular arms, the neck slightly pulled apart, with a view of his muscular chest and the proud pendant of Thor, that matched your own, beating on his chest.

“--The dress.”

“I’m sorry?” you spoke, moistening your lips for the memory. Talk of this horrendous gown tips you off to Ivar’s voice. You lifted your head from staring at the intricate, but ugly ties at his chest to look him in the eye. He leans in and bumps into your chest.

“You look beautiful in the dress.”

Ivar always noticed you. The warmth that flooded your face wasn’t exactly something that you could withhold, not when he met your eyes with such force. He brought his hand up to your anxious fiddling and forced it to still.

“Thank you.”

“So then why would you wear it, uh?” he asks next. His nose scrunches up, bearing his gleaming white teeth.

“What?”

“He is a womanizer and here you are,” his head tilts to the side, rounding out. Here he goes. You can’t suppress your eyes rolling up as his hand twirls up your side, condescending: just like Bjorn. “--dressed in gold silks and a glistening crown. Calling for his attention! Do you not know the value of a plain dress?”

Hvitserk remains as still as the guards behind him.

“Hvitserk told me to dress up,” you hiss back. “Is that not enough?”

“Hvitserk--” Ivar bobbles his head, rolling his eyes in mimicry. “What does Hvitserk know of men? He does not even know what he wants most days.”

You let out your suppressed breath and pick up your skirts. By all appearances, Ivar was maintaining his image. He lurches out to seize your arm, stopping you in place from storming off back down the halls.

“I don’t say these things to--” Ivar breaks into a huff of air, “I say them to keep us safe. If we were home, you could wear whatever you wanted and it would not be an issue. Now stop making that face.”

“It is my face. What would you have me do?” you arch your brows up at him, challenging his words with a soft gleam in your eyes. “Wear a bag and pretend to be a proper Saxon girl?”

“You’re too mouthy for that. We could never fool Oleg like that.”

“The guards have already seen her,” Hvitserk leans forward. “Let her wear it.”

The weight of Ivar’s eyes fall upon you like iron weights. You remain voiceless when he turns on his brother like a snake, Ivar rules his lower lip in between his teeth. Then out. His expression remains hooded and dark as he starts down the hall. “This is your fault.”  

The dress does not inspire many friends. It’s soft golden silk contrasts against brilliant sapphire blue. With its long waterfall sleeves and cinched waist, you should have a family of admirers. Instead, you have a proud dog and a scowling ex-lover. Oleg hums and prompts your name.

“I have recently heard you are a princess. An English princess.”

Here you go.

“Where did you hear that?” You can play along, despite the words that had seized up the contents of your belly. Ivar was right. This was a game. Your mouth was dry with apprehension for his response.

“I’ve foreseen it,” he says sharply. Or on the lips of his guards. “I’ve not come by the manner in which my beloved Ivar came upon you so haply.”

“He didn’t. His father Ragnar and his dearest friend, my father, Athelstan did,” you told the prince in punctuated words. “My mother Judith abandoned me with them. She knew I would not survive in Wessex.”

“As a baby?”

“Yes,” you say. “But I am a heathen.”

“I’ve no doubt of that. I know a heathen when I see one. Tell me of this-- Alfred the Great.”

“I know nothing of him,” you rap your knuckles over the table. “Only that he is my twin.”

“Nothing?”

“Nothing. I was raised by a boatbuilder, you see. Ragnar’s cruel punishment.” You wish that he would stop asking you so many questions. It was a long time since you dreamed of England and the family that you could have had. Maybe, you could have met Ivar there. He would have hated you.

“And of England?”

“You should ask Ivar. I’ve never been.”

He leans back in his chair.

“That is fine. It has been a long day-- and I anticipate, a longer night. I hope you enjoyed your ice bath with Hvitserk.” In that split second, Ivar turned his head over toward you. The pain resurfaces a power you never knew you had over him. Regret hits you like a shield on the battlefield, forcing you to lurch in your chair, setting a hand on his thigh. Ivar’s eye snaps down to your hand over his calibers.

“What bath?”

Oleg chuckles, warm and cruel. “They bathed together in Katya’s pool. Did they not tell you?”

His head hangs, focused on your delicate palm over his firm thigh. Out of the corner of his eye, his raw stare centered on you. You have noting to be ashamed about. You were not his anymore. You had no reason to feel as if you had, yet again, betrayed Ivar the Boneless. You had done nothing wrong!

Oleg snatches the cloth to clean his face. He wipes crumbles from his beard and drops the cloth on the plate. He excuses himself with his young wife. “Let us talk of England tomorrow, Ivar. I am— interested.”

“Ivar--” your voice sounds small. Too small for a woman whose life was once wound up in being on the battlefield beside a man like Ivar the Boneless. You feel small as you struggle to explain, swirling in a whirlpool of thought. Ivar throws off your hand from his thigh and closes his eyes. With one smooth inhale and exhale of breath, he stands up. He doesn’t have to ask Igor to stand up either. The future grand prince is up, trailing his steps, a puppy after the larger dog that might as well be his father.

“You should go to him.” Hvitserk breaks the silence after Ivar’s thrumming steps fizzled out. “Explain that it wasn’t what he thinks it is.”

That earlier that day, you hadn’t felt a zing of excitement when Hvitserk’s naked chest bumped into yours. That attention of his you craved-- it was nothing. Hvitserk’s hands are turned over his clothed chest now. You try to swallow your pride.

“He knows what it is,” you turn your face toward Hvitserk. Oleg’s many servants pick half eaten gold dishes from the table in front of you. Your eyes pricked as you ran your hands together. Your gown feels somewhat hotter, somewhat harder to stand in. Hvitserk tilts his head slightly. Something wasn’t right.

“Knows what-- what is?” Hvitserk asked.

You’re a coward. If you were half the man that Ivar was, you would be able to tell Hvitserk your deepest, newly realized secret. The air in your chest was punched out. You couldn’t, not now. It aches a whole in your chest. “It’s nothing. I should go.”

You walk back to your room with a knot greater than any battle had given you. You knew why; that your stomach was unsettled by Oleg’s push for England and its riches. The rich green soil and lapping beaches that Ragnar would tell you about. Back when you wondered of whom you came from. Who was Judith? Or Alfred? The thoughts were painful to recall as the child that had been so easily sent away. The door beside you whirled open. A hand launched out and yanked you into the dark room. The buckles alerted you to Ivar’s presence.

“Ivar?”

“Hush,” the door whizzed closed again. It falls with a heart shattering clank against its hinges. You wait til the noise outside the door has settled to walk toward a singular chair among blonde furs. It looks like home. You take a seat and wait for the impending ass whipping you anticipate is careening your way. In its place, Ivar snakes forth.

“He will want to fight Alfred.”

You tilt your head. “And? What concern is that of mine?”

“You know why.”

In the West, where your brother was, you would be faced with the obligation to fight one way or another. Surely Oleg knew your reputation for fighting with the brothers. But you could not-- imagine taking the life of your brother. Even if you did not know his quality.

“It won’t be an issue unless you make it one.”

“Hm,” Ivar reaches out. You jerk back, allowing his hand to curl back in. As his hand becomes a fist, he nods through his thoughts. “Then you had better not betray me a third time.”

“I wasn’t aware there was a second.”

He slips open the door.

“You’re running away, again?”

There’s a moment-- when you think he’ll just smile and close the door behind him. After all, with Hvitserk’s rantings and ravings, it was very easy to do so. You want him the rejection that will follow. Rather, Ivar stabs the ground and maneuvers around to face your accusation.

“I wish you the best in your first marriage with my own flesh and blood,” he mocks, spreading his hand out in half of a bow. “Good night, Princess.”

He might as well have said bitch.

@tephi101 @alicedopey @supernaturalvikingwhore @tootie-fruity @titty-teetee @queen-see-ya-in-valhalla @ethereallysimple @deathbyarabbit @deathbyarabbit @readsalot73 @natalie-rdr​ @lol-haha-joke @lisinfleur @hissouthernprincess @marvelousse @dangerous-like-a-loaded-pistol @vikingsmania @wish-i-was-a-mermaid @lif3snotouttogetyou @gruffle1 @cris101071 @gold-dragon-slayer @babypink224221 @wonderwoman292 @naaladareia @beyond-the-ashes @generic-fangirl @chinduda @laketaj24, @peaceisadirtyword, @ly–canthrope @cris101071 @daughterofthenight117 @unassumingviking @ladyofsoa, @inforapound @winchesterwife27 @feyrearcheron44@readsalot73 @squirrelacorngliterfarts @gold-dragon-slayer @medievalfangirl @sallydelys  @bluearchersstuff @affectionrabbitt @whatamood13 @notyouraveragegirl17 @igetcarriedawaywithyou @unacceptabletatertots @ivarandersen @stra-vage @tgrrose @cookies186 @learninglemni-blog @theleeshanotlouise @soiproclaim @msmorganforever @destynelseclipsa @soleil-dor @strangunddurm

[anxiouslyfred]

Secret Surprise Hell

Summary: Virgil would have thought his soulmate taking the time to plan a surprise party in so much secret he knew a lot of the details before anyone his soulmate knew in person sweet, except now he hates knowing the details and having to keep the person it’s for from finding out early.

/\/\

Knowing the secrets of someone you've never even met was a very very bizarre thing. Nobody quite knew what to make of the soulmate connection and everyone had very strong views about secrets, whether it was that they should keep everything hidden or reveal all constantly, but either way, they were deliberate over how they treated secrets.

Virgil wasn't sure if he liked keeping so many secrets, but when the world left him certain people would vilify him for everything, from the clothes he wore to the things he enjoyed not matching the popular ones, it just felt safer to keep them secret.

Occasionally he'd make a friend and try trusting them with some of who he is, and now even that felt like stealing the knowledge of his accidental secrets away from his soulmate. After all a secret shared by 2 people isn't really a secret at all when they know each other in person.

His soulmate however didn't seem to keep any particularly identifying secrets. The secrets that would appear in Virgil's mind were random, about places they went occasionally, or praises for someone called Roman. Why those things needed to be kept secret, he couldn't know without meeting his soulmate, but he kept note of them in a journal. At least nothing seemed likely to make him get his soulmate arrested over a secret.

There's been news reports over the years about soulmates getting each other arrested, or testifying against each other without actually meeting. It damaged both parties in that soulmate connection as people saw betraying the secrets of your soulmate with utmost scorn, no matter how reprehensible the acts they'd carried out were. Virgil dreaded the chance he could be in that situation, but whomever his soulmate was didn't seem likely to do that.

Currently they were planning a surprise birthday party actually. Virgil had been surprised that came to him as a secret since usually parties like that needed multiple people to plan and it had remained secret for long enough that he knew when the decorations would be brought and that his soulmate was getting them from a department store in the same chain he worked at. It could even be the same one given there had never been a clue over where his soulmate lived.

Virgil hadn't learnt much beyond that they'd come with their brother since that meant sharing the plans with someone else, but he was going to keep an eye out, especially in case anyone in blue or called Patton mentioned wanting birthday decorations. He knew that sometimes people planning surprise parties forgot to let their friends know they were remembered while planning it all. Blue had been mentioned way too much while Remus was planning the party entirely in secret so Virgil could only believe Patton liked the colour a lot.

By the time the day to get party decorations came around he'd grown more and more curious over if there was a way to plan a meet up, make secret arrangements just with himself to go somewhere specific enough his soulmate could meet him there. It was a futile dream and one Virgil couldn't imagine doing. He hated being around public spaces alone, and then the added anxiety of hoping his soulmate might actually try to turn up? It would never happen, but then again he was kind of doing the return with his reaction to this party.

“Come Onnnnnn! If we're going to get this party set up we need to get decorations and get home!” An obnoxiously loud whine brought Virgil out of his thoughts as a pair of twins came into the store. Really it was a guy in what seemed to be a see through green and black ice skating costume and combat boots was dragging someone identical to him but far more reasonably dressed into the store, already looking around to decide the direction they'd head in.

“Welcome to the store, how can I help you today?” Virgil recited, long since trained into greeting people, even if they clearly didn't need to.

The ice skater outfit twin glanced at him for a second. “If you have pinatas I need to know where and if I can beat them up before buying them!” He decided, completely seriously after a second.

“Or perhaps you could direct us to party decorations. My brother has decided to throw a surprise party for one of my friends.” The other interjected, straightening his jacket now the pull on his wrist was released.

“Someone Had Too and you, for all your bluster of being a courteous knight wouldn't even bring up his birthday at all, despite the hints he kept dropping about wanting to do something!”

Virgil interrupted with a quick cough, not wanting an argument to break out. “You want the back shelves, that corner and pinatas are like an aisle away from the decorations. That classes as a party game instead.” He directed, arm pointing through the small clothing section near the front of the store.

“We've got decorations to get and things to beat up then. See ya!” The ice skater uniform was once again dragging his twin away, already talking about the various other things the world said it was good to beat up against things it was bad to.

Once they were out of sight Virgil returned to thinking and just watching the doors, half wondering if the pair could have been connected or possibly even his soulmate and whomever they'd chosen to go shopping with. He could imagine ice skater in combat boots keeping some of the weird secrets he'd received over the years.

“Um, Hey, are there any party decorations in here?” A rather down trodden man had come in while Virgil was thinking. He was in a blue collared top, and had his arms wrapped around him trying to hug himself.

Slowly Virgil nodded, “Sure, but are you okay? You don't look much like you want a party currently.” He wouldn't normally ask a customer this, but even without the thoughts in his head that this could be Patton, he just thought the guy needed a friendly face.

“Friends all forgot my birthday, I guess I'll do something myself. Perhaps if I get a party set up and invite them over this evening I can have a small celebration or something?” The puppy dog eyes though the guys glasses were fatal, and Virgil definitely hoped this was Patton, or at least this guys friends were doing the same thing as his soulmate.

None of that could be said though, so Virgil dragged a hand though his hair. “That's rough, Buddy. Come on, I've finished my time as greeter and should check the shelves anyway. I'll show you where the cakes are and help carry any decorations you pick out once we get there.”

“You don't have to do that, Kiddo. Thank you, though. I'm Patton.” The thanks had Virgil shaking his head, but the name had him freezing. This was his soulmate's friend, or given the weird twins from earlier, his soulmate's brother's friend and definitely had a surprise party planned for him already. How the hell was Virgil going to not only keep him from spending too much on decorations, as well as away from the brothers, while still managing to meet his soulmate?

Either way he definitely was sticking with Patton now. “No, I insist. Come on, I know the nicer cakes we have in stock. What type of cakes do you like? Chocolate, plain with jam, decorated to look like character or animals? We've got something for everyone here.”

“Animals. I love puppies and kittens so if they're on anything I'll probably pick that. Some of my friends have allergies so I can't get a cake with nuts on it.” Patton was already seeming happier with his help, but paused for a moment. “If you're gonna be helping me so much Kiddo, can you tell me your name? These glasses aren't good for reading name tags quickly.”

“I'm Virgil, and now I can't decide if I should show you the latest tray of cupcakes we've started getting or one chocolate sponge I've been tempted to get a few times.” This was far more customer service filtering than Virgil usually did, but he could play sweetness and light for a while.

They were looking at the cupcakes when the twin in a red coat called over. “Hey, Patton, fancy seeing you here.”

Virgil narrowed his eyes to the end of the aisle he'd come from before turning around. With how loud the call was it screamed of distraction technique and if the ice skater dude was around Virgil was going to either give him a piece of his mind or make sure it was passed on to Patton's friends. “If this is one of your friends I should probably get back to stocking shelves before someone challenges what I've been doing.” He offered, seeing Patton glancing towards him.

“Gosh Kiddo, I hope I won't have gotten you in trouble.” Patton had those puppy dog eyes again.

“Nah, I'm pretty sure I've got a good excuse if they try anyway. We pride ourselves on customer service.” Virgil dismissed it, already heading out the aisle. “Hope you have a good birthday.”

Sure enough when he got to the aisle with birthday cakes on there was the dude in his ice skating costume. Virgil immediately marched over, more irritated he'd been caught in this entire thing than happy at the chance to meet his soulmate now.

“Next time you decide to keep a birthday party a secret go to some other bloody store. I did not need to have to distract Patton all because you and that idiot with you left him feeling abandoned on his birthday!” He got immediate attention on him, even with the completely bewildered gaze. “Also is your brother Roman, and that why you constantly have secrets thinking something he's made is good? Cause right now if Patton is his friend primarily I've got half a mind to go and yell at him. Your party for him better be good!”

The ice skater guy burst out laughing then, “Honey, I've imagined meeting my soulmate a million ways but never thought it would be telling me off in a supermarket! You're coming to this party now and I'll make sure you can corner Roman to yell at him too! Especially if I can watch with popcorn. Can you tell Jay and Lolo off at the same time? They've all said I'm making a big deal out of nothing trying to set up a surprise party for Patton, but he's done so many parties for all of us.”

“I'll add them to the list. Have they at least got birthday presents for him?” Virgil shrugged, not quite sure what to do with the sudden invitation, but it wasn't like he was doing anything that evening.

“If they didn't earlier they definitely will by now. I got my morning-star out to threaten them with when Logan tried claiming the fuss made of birthday's was excessive.” Remus agreed, already nodding before pouting. “Hang on, you've known me all of two seconds and have somehow decided to care about both Patton and me in that time? Why the hell is your biggest secret that you're lonely?”

Virgil was not here to get called out for his own issues. “Anger for being dragged into surprise party planning does not count as caring.”

“Yeah and Roman's artwork is as worthless as he claims when the shading goes slightly wrong. Pull the other one. You've latched on quickly.” Remus cut through any blustering arguments Virgil might have tried to say.

“Loud places or crowded places are way too stressful to talk to people in. Hell even here I stick to the tills whenever there's holidays coming up to avoid the crowds. Doesn't exactly help me make friends and any I had have long since vanished cause they liked them.” He shrugged, reaching for the cake Patton had almost gone for before deciding it would be too big for the amount of friends he thought might come over at short notice.

“Cake got, now for chocolate gateau so I can shove it in someone's face!” Remus bounced off, tugging Virgil along with him. “Also, since we're soulmate's I better be getting your number and address so I can turn up out of the blue randomly.”

Virgil snorted. “So you're going to stalk me under the pretence of getting to know me?”

“You know it, MarketKing, you know it!” Remus really was looking through the refrigerated aisles for gateaus, but still turned to leer momentarily at him.

“Just call me Virge, or Virgil. What's your name anyway? I kinda forgot about that since I already knew what you're doing.” He wasn't going to point out the chilled desserts were on the end of an aisle nearer the frozen foods. On the chance an employee figured out who their soulmate was while working they were allowed a margin of unproductive work time.

“Remus, although Duke or Dukey works too. It's fun to have Roman scream those nicknames after I've pranked him. Half the time he gets so embarrassed it's like a second part of the prank.” Remus cheerfully offered.

Whatever this surprise party was going to be, Virgil was definitely interested in where getting to know his soulmate would end up.

[light679]

Hey hun! Dunno if you're taking requests at the moment... but I saw that analysis on Leon's room and it got me thinking... what would Leon's early travels be like while he was taking the gym challenge? I feel like we didn't get to hear to much about it, other than Sonia saying a few things, but I was wondering what your take on it would be? Feel free to ignore this ask if you've got a lot going on at the moment! But thank you if you end up answering! ^^

Hello there! This ask makes me seriously happy! I’m so glad you liked my post about his room! I love thinking about young Leon and his gym challenge, I see so many pictures of him on Pinterest of him as a youngster with Charmander and I die of cuteness every time, so here's some hc's of mine to go along with this! :3 Thank you for such a lovely ask!

So first of all, I sort of hc that Leon and Sonia took the Gym Challenge the same year as Raihan, so all three of them became pretty close friends during this. Leon and Raihan probably met at the opening ceremony or at one of the gyms at hit it off, constantly arguing in a playful way about who was going to be stronger. 

The Wild Area was definitely a struggle for Leon. Sonia and her Yamper leading him to the right path, as she mentioned in the game? Definitely happened here 😂. Sonia probably did her best to not let him out of her sight, but of course when Leon gets excited about something, or saw a Pokemon he really wanted to catch or battle, he would just run off at a moment’s notice. He caught a lot of cool Pokemon that way, but often had to call Sonia on his Rotom phone to have her come find him, who gave him a light scolding later on lol. 

Leon learns how to cook in the Wild Area while he’s camping and such, but isn’t necessarily the best. He’s decent at making spicy foods, which are his favorite, although the reason they’re likely better than his usual is that he puts a lot of spices in to mask any other imperfections since the focus is mainly on the spice when you eat it. Sonia does a lot of their cooking. Raihan is a little more independent and does his own thing, but will pop in every once and while and set his tent up near theirs. Sonia and Leon set their tents up at the same camping spot together virtually every night to keep Leon from getting lost and to just have a friend nearby. In my opinion, Sonia develops a slight crush on him at least once over the course of their Gym Challenge, but it never really goes further than that. Leon’s so focused on his Gym Challenge and eventually Sonia realizes this, so she gets over it pretty quickly. 

In his journey, there’s probably a few spots that Leon really likes. Of course, the Wild Area is something he absolutely loves. It gives him a chance to get really strong and meet strong Pokemon, which as we know is something Leon really puts care in. Particularly the Lake of Outrage is a favorite of his. There’s a lot of really strong and interesting Pokemon there, and the Pokemon that come out of hiding in the different weather is incredible to him. And is also probably where he met his Dreepy, which he evolved into Dragapult. He also probably really likes the cold, mountainous area leading up to Wyndon. There’s quite a few strong Pokemon there too, and he can just feel how excited and eager those Pokemon are to join in some exciting battles, maybe feeding off the energy that comes from the city nearby. 

Which of course brings me to Wyndon. I hc that Leon absolutely loved the city life at first. Compared to Postwick, it’s so bustling, exciting and new to him, with a lot of people excitedly talking about Pokemon battles and the upcoming challenge. It matches his own passion and excitement for battles and the Championship Cup in a way a lot of the other places along his journey didn’t. Hammerlocke was probably the closest thing to matching his excitement, although it still had a different atmosphere that didn’t quite match his, although he was incredibly excited to see all of the history-related things in the city. Leon’s room is a clear indication that he IS smart, and that he enjoys learning new information. Just like he did with Pokemon, he also most likely went to all of those historical spots in the towns to learn about Pokemon, something a lot of challengers may not have done. Obviously in Sword and Shield you do since you’re helping Sonia make discoveries, but in reality, unless you have a strong passion for learning and history/science/etc, a Gym Challenger could easily breeze by something like that and ignore it. But Leon, despite being incredibly excited for his own journey, most likely dragged Sonia to all of these exhibits and areas to learn more about the history of Galar and Pokemon, in part because he hopes it will help him learn about Pokemon to make him stronger and in part for him to just continue learning. Seeing these places eventually makes something click for Sonia and she ends up being thankful that he’s brought her along to them. 

Naturally, every time they stopped in a city that had boutiques, Leon was quick to pick up a new hat. He picked up a new hat in just about every city he could. He might even have done it as a ‘reward’ for himself for winning a battle. Like, once he beat a Gym Leader, he treated himself to a new hat. Eventually Sonia noticed his bag being so full, seeing that it was full of caps and made him send some home. Partly to make sure he had room to carry actually important things with him and partly because it would damage the caps. Sonia liked fashion and clothes too, and would hate to see Leon ruin his new clothes too. After her lecture on how he was damaging the caps, Leon almost always had them sent home unless he wanted to swap it out. His fashion sense in buying other clothes was still absolutely atrocious, but still adorable. 

The Gyms were fairly easy for Leon, breezing through most of them, except one: Melony, who would have been old enough to still be Gym Leader during that time. Not only did he have a few dragon types that were pretty well damaged by Melony’s ice types, but her Gigantamax Lapras wasn’t weak to Charizard, and was in fact, strong against it being an ice and water type. Leon also doesn’t typically seem to use electric types, and there’s a solid chance that his Charizard wouldn’t have known electric-type moves by then (I hc he probably did some special training for that to happen/Pokemon have to go through some special training with Pokemon of that type to learn moves outside of their specific typing). He still won on his first try, but it was a very close match. The dragon-type leader was also probably a bit of a tougher match for him since dragons usually aren’t weak to fire, but still less of a challenge than Melony. 

Leon’s definitely the challenger that a lot of other Gym Challengers look up to and admire, and with him being favored to win their year, though Raihan comes in as a close second. A lot of people loved his adorable Charmander, but he was certainly seen as incredibly ‘cool’ once his Charmeleon evolved into Charizard. Charizard isn’t exactly a common Pokemon in Galar, coupled with it being incredibly strong, people grew fascinated by it very quickly. 

Their match during the quarter finals is really close and intense: Leon beating Raihan by just a hair. Many people were incredibly impressed by their match, for both men. Raihan was offered a position at the Hammerlocke Gym almost immediately after their match, and Leon received several proposals for endorsements contingent on his win against the Champion. Despite how intense their exhibition matches were in the subsequent years, many people still regard their quarter finals matches as one of the best matches in Galar history. There’s probably a rerun screening of it whenever Gym season pops up each year honestly. 

[chaserainbows]

🔥

Send me a “ 🔥 “ for an unpopular opinion.

So to add some context for this one I've dabbled in game design a few years ago and in general been the kind of Pokémon fan that Likes Making Things and looking up fan content pretty much ever since I joined the community, so the conclusion I got from all that is

The typical Pokémon fangame is actually garbage

(Under cut because it'll get long and also because I'm gonna spoil some plot points of Pokémon Reborn and Pokémon Rejuvenation)

First of all, the most common idea behind Pokémon fangames is "the canon games are too easy so I'm gonna make something Harder for The Mature Audience" and you know what? Fair! The difficulty in Pokémon games reached its peak in gen 4 and basically got tossed off a cliff in gen 6, so the idea of a game that actually makes you think is very appealing. However, this causes two main problems:

1) One of the main appeals behind Pokémon games is that you get to choose your own difficulty. Every regional Pokédex has literally over a hundred Pokémon, and while this means you can choose the stronger ones for an easier time and counterpick the main bosses' own teams, it also means you can make many different combinations on the same team and turn each playthrough into a completely different experience.

For example, Pokémon X/Y is typically considered effortless, but it can actually be a pretty tough game if you just... turn off the Exp Share. Likewise, if you think that the game hands you too many overpowered Pokémon too quickly, you can just not use them. There's like 450 Pokémon in Kalos, you don't HAVE to use the starters, the Kanto starters, the gift Lucario, the gift Lapras, an Aegislash or whatever it is if you don't want to. It works for Mega Evolution as well, if you feel like it makes the game trivial you're only forced to use it once. The same is true for literally any other Pokémon game, if you want a bigger challenge you can use traditionally weaker Pokémon, use a monotype team, use unevolved Pokémon, play a Nuzlocke, the possibilities are endless, but if you want a challenge while playing what's basically the game's easy mode then of course you're gonna be bored. And that brings us to our next topic:

2) The average Pokémon fangame dev has no idea how game balance works. Case in point: Pokémon Reborn, which is basically the most famous example of A Pokémon Game For Grown-Ups, With A Grown-Up Plot And A Grown-Up Difficulty, except it's not a hard game, it's an unbalanced one. Most of the challenge comes not from the actual battles requiring a high level of strategy or resources being so scarce that you need to be inventive with them, it comes from the fact that the game is just really inconvenient to play.

I'll prove my point: One of the main aspects from Pokémon Reborn as a game is that Pokémon are hard to find and the really good ones are reserved to the engame, so combined with the fact that the gym leaders and most important bosses have full teams and are fought in terrains that stack the deck against you, you have to get creative if you want to win. This is bullshit, the only thing this restriction really does is that you have to beat the game the way the dev intended (therefore removing the customization aspect of Pokémon altogether) or just find oversights to exploit, like how the Bug-type gym gets bodied by a Vulpix or how the updated version of the Ice-type gym couldn't do anything to a Magnemite, which usually get removed in a future update effectively turning your playthrough illegal. It's not even an impartial process, as Gardevoir trivializes several midgame bosses but never gets pushed back because it's the dev's favorite.

Oh, and you know what I said about terrains? Most of them consist of the bosses' Pokémon getting several buffs just by existing while all their weaknesses get nerfed or outright neutralized, which means two things: There's no real strategy involved, since all it really does is that you have to hit the enemy with neutral moves while getting blasted by attacks with x2.25 multipliers on top of STAB, and also the game gets REALLY easy if you just change the terrain because every important boss other than the first gym leader is completely reliant on it. Seriously, if you have an Ampharos with Electric Terrain you've won.

(though to be completely fair the engine's ai is HORRIBLE so the game can't have good strategies, but that really just proves that the idea is flawed)

The gameplay isn't all, though, there's also the story as one of the main appeal of Pokémon games is that they're more mature and able to handle themes like murder, corruption, mental illness and war.

THAT'S A FUCKING LIE THEY JUST READ LIKE IF MY IMMORTAL HAD A CHILD WITH CALL OF DUTY

Like the idea of a Grown-Up Pokémon League For Adults where the deck is constantly stacked against you and every challenger has to fight the gym leader at a disadvantage is flawed from the beginning no matter how you look at it. Pokémon battles are a sport, and gym leaders are basically professional athletes, meaning that they're subject to rules and most important, public opinion. If all your victories come from the fact that you're in top condition and the competition isn't, then you're gonna lose credibility REALLY fast because could you really win in a fair fight? If you have to issue a handicap against every challenger, aren't you basically admitting that you can't win without it?

And that's before we get into the fact that most of the time the league challenge is FUCKING IMPOSSIBLE for anyone other than the player to complete, even though it's supposed to be something that affects the whole region (oh and since usually those leagues are from 'the strongest trainers all over the world' it's implied that there's a lot of challengers from other regions as well). In Reborn, one of the gym leaders was TRAPPED IN A PARALLEL DIMENSION FOR 15 YEARS and that one is ironically one of the most accessible. Half of the league members were trapped in an orphanage and unable to accept challenges, several of them are part of the evil organization and end up on the run either before or after you defeat them and several of them (including the ones from the orphanage) follow you through the region. Then there's Rejuvenation where one of the gyms is only accessible through a dream world, several of the leaders ditch their gyms either to follow the player or to hide from the police, one of them tries to kill you and ends up frozen alive and you have to repeatedly travel back and forth in time to advance the plot. How is literally anyone other than the player supposed to complete the gym challenge? Even the rivals basically stop talking about getting badges because it makes no sense.

Then there's the evil teams. Despite the fact that they're supposed to be more realistic and gritty than the canon ones, most of the time they're gonna be some sort of cult based on offensive religious stereotypes (with Giratina as satan because OF COURSE), a blatant ripoff of Team Galactic or just a fascist allegory, which I ranted about before because those are the most irresponsible. Their biggest claim to fame is that their higher-ranked members are too strong to defeat because the writer usually won't do enough research about how crime syndicates actually work and makes the league members seem even more incompetent because they're supposed to be the best of the best and yet keep getting clapped by a bunch of thugs for no good reason. They're gonna kill a bunch of people, but conveniently 95% of their victims are gonna be extras that the player has no reason to get attached to. Oh, and the edgelord Gary Oak-esque rival WILL join them for reasons.

In short, they're made using a bunch of popular characteristics without putting much (if any) thought into how they actually work together, and the gameplay is built to be unenjoyable (which doesn't necessarily mean hard) because people play them for bragging rights rather than actually having fun. Most canon games have more mature storylines because mature doesn't mean pointlessly dark, and even though most of them are hyped up by ragging on X and Y, Lysandre is a more compelling character than like 80% of the fangame villains. Oh, and Big Boy Pants unfair leagues are ridiculous

[x-lulu]

quotes from ‘panic’  ↳ in the forgotten town of carp, texas, panic is the only way out. every summer the graduating seniors risk their lives competing in a series of challenges for the chance to win life-changing money. after the death of two players the stakes - and danger - have never been higher. this summer twenty-three players will enter the game. all of them will be changed. only one will win. let the games begin

is that real enough for you? 'cause it's all bullshit. a line's a line, sweetheart, even if it's dressed up pretty. at least mine are honest - ray

can I ask you something? yeah. do you have any feelings at all…that don’t  come straight from your penis? my grandpa used to drink this shit in handles. used to… beat ice right down into the bottle. I could always tell it was vodka night, ‘cause the smell of piss from his bedroom would keep me up. even if I kept the windows open. it’s funny how I liked that smell. it meant he’d stayed away from whiskey. whiskey? he’d stay on his feet and we woke up ‘cause we heard him coming. sometimes…. I feel like smashing everything. sometimes… I wanna know how jimmy cortez felt when he put the  barrel of the gun in his mouth. but most of the times… I feel like nothing at all. is that enough for you?’” - ray and heather

when the ride is over you get off sweetheart - ray

you don’t seem like the type. to get scared? to let it stop you - anne and heather

you turned into a bird that night. I don’t know what you are. It doesn’t matter that you’re pretty. I don’t care. I saw you fly - ray

well, well, well, if it isn’t heather nill. change your mind? lost it - ray and heather

panic is a game about fear. but it is also a trick. win as many challenges as you want, but real fear happens when it’s not a game anymore. - narrated

how come it’s scarier to have what you want than to want the thing you can’t have? because you’re scared to lose it? - bishop and natalie

everyone has a reason for playing panic but we all have the same fear. that we’re heading nowhere but a dead end. that’s why panic ends on the road. that’s why the final challenge is Joust - narrated

once upon a time, there was a girl who believed learning to fly meant she could escape her own shadow. so she jumped hoping she could grow wings - narrated

the opposite of fear isn’t courage, it’s believing. and finding something worth believing in. and finding something worth believing in. yourself is a good place to start. luckily, you can find that anywhere, even in the middle of nowhere, texas - heather

see, some beautiful is nice to look at. but there is some beautiful that makes you feel like you’re flying and it hurts. ‘cause for a second, you forget that it’s leaving you behind. I’m a hall. I’m dead weight. and that’s bad news to a girl with wings - ray

the truth is I was holding on to so much. I was so consumed about what had happened that I was never thinking about what was next. I don’t even think I cared if there was anything at all - dodge

I always thought I could make sense of everything. my mom, I mean, like why she left. why I wasn’t worth sticking around for. but something is different. I mean, I’m still going to los angels, I’m just going for myself - natalie

I’m scared. of what? everything. I thought for some reason I wouldn’t be, you know ‘cause I played panic. you know what scares me most? you. I’m scared I’m falling in love with you. I’m scared, too. we don’t have to fall in love, ray - ray and heather

people tell all sorts of stories about the game. but there are some things they won’t tell you. no one knows who invented panic. and it turns out no one knows how to stop it either - narrated

[molamocha]

Dance For Me

Type: Dancer!Au, Taeyong x reader

Genre: Smut

A/N&Warnings: Unprotected (sock or sleeve, wrap ur pp), it's short ik but I'm trying

Words: 4.8k

How well you handle the awkwardness of that first step decides your talent. What will you choose to willingly correct and improve for the crowd that awaits you? Streaks on the floor like pencil shavings left by an artist, muscles sore like a musician's tired fingers. Process 'til progress is the real beauty in arts.

Sweat rolls down your back as you study the others' movements, following along as you tweak the choreo to your liking. Not too stiff like the original but nothing too off that makes you look like a noodle.

"Not to name any names," your choreographer peers his eyes to the person behind you, "Taeyong." 

The group laughs, the man in question not as amused. Taeyong is wiggly, but his dancing is eye-catching; Borderline seductive, but fascinating. Just the way he flows through the music, making each move seem like one motion until the routine hits a pop. Your eyes tend to follow taeyong, admiring, and he tends to reciprocate, amused. Not that you're complaining though, but the days you decide to focus, it's jarring to notice his full on stare. 

"Stop that." You say, pausing your routine.

"Stop what?" Taeyong asks, attempting to act oblivious.

"There they go again." someone mumbles. Snickering from across the room echoes through the practice room.

You haven't known Taeyong for long, but the back and forth relationship the two of you have together is well known, even with no one really knowing how it started. The audience seems to enjoy it, though your mind hesitates to linger around the ideas and the rumors, despite your heaving contribution in allowing them to spread. It's fun to play along but going farther than that is, well, you don't really know.

"Stop flirting already, someone might get hurt one day." The team leader mumbles.

"Yea stop teasing me, I might start taking it seriously." You laugh, half-heartedly pushing taeyong to the side. 

"What makes you think I'm not already?" He grins. You groan as you shake his words off, not really able to read whether it was a joke or not as the rest of the room's yelling adds fuel to the fire heating up the room's atmosphere.

~|•

"So what's the score?" The girl next to you asks. You don't really know her name, but you know she's the center lead in this project.

"What score?" 

"The score between you and taeyong's game, or are you two just flirting?"

You scoff, "No, we're not."

"Whatever you're doing, Taeyong is winning." A voice behind you adds. You look in the mirror to see a fit figure on the other side behind you. Meeting eyes you recognize his wide friendly smile. 

You laugh a hello, "And what makes you think he's winning, Mr. Nakamoto, since you're just so eager to add input." You dramatically reply.

He makes a face in reply to your sarcasm as he sits down next to you. "What do you mean by winning?" You repeat.

"It's like the two of you are playing chicken," He says, reaching for his feet to stretch, "You almost always walk away."

"Well yea, he plays too much." 

"I can tell, could practically hear your heart beat from across the room." 

You suck your teeth, hearing a giggle from the girl next to you, "So how do I win a round?" You ask, hitting his shoulder.

"Just go farther"

"And what does that entail?"

Yuta sits up, "Whatever is needed."

You groan and he shrugs, "Look, if you're gonna be distracting at least make it interesting."

"Was it not before?" You laugh, "Hard to tell with how you all tease."

He waves you off, "Some of us are starved and some haven't slept in 26 hours." He stretches his arm to the side, "You're boring."

You snatch your bag up from the floor, "Well I wasn't trying to entertain either." You mutter, and you meant that. Nevermind how the games started, how it never ends is what's puzzling, especially with no knowledge or strong interest in your opponent. 

It's hard to get to know him, or to settle your feelings since every sentence between the two of you is 'joke' material. No matter how long you've been acting professional that day, with no hint or interest in being playful, it seems to end that way. Though, the group isn't complete without the two of you. They all say that it's lightened up since you came, but you don't know whether you should take it as friends trying to make you feel better or audience members egging for a sequel.

"I don't think I have any real interest in you." You think aloud.

 Taeyong flinches, retracting his hand that was pointed at the rag beside you, "I just asked for you to pass my towel" he mumbles, confused.

"I'm just saying," 

"Well you're saying a lot." He interrupts, sounding hurt. Taeyong snatches the towel from the railing next to you before walking back to his bag across the room. There's people around, and you're sure they heard your sudden confession, but they don't show their interest.

After involuntarily hurting the mouse's feelings, and, since the day started, neither of you have been playing game you decide to throw.

"Can you blame me though?" You yell from across the room, "Hard to peak interest when it's one sided, no?"

Taeyong turns with a smile back on his face, "I find you very interesting." He retaliates, accepting your challenge, "Dare say I like you." He strides closer, a full audience anticipating with you. He trails on, "Like you, love you," he stops in front of you, his face leaning towards your ear, "Want you." 

Your chest weighs at the last part; he's treading deeper into territory neither of you have tried to entertain. The room erupts and you push taeyong off as the instructor enters the room, slightly disappointed at the mess. 

"Why is it this every week"

~|•

Waking up to a cold and cloudy dawn usually makes you sleep in, but the pop in your back from shifting your weight made you rethink that maybe it's not the day to be late. Walking in you follow a few others in stretching before practice starts. 

Stretching can probably be the most painful after a few hours of practice, let alone waking up sore. Having to massage your shoulders and legs while catering to any muscle feeling heavier than the rest. Collective sighs of satisfaction scattered around the room sounding damn near erotic, making you look up in the mirror to make sure a certain someone isn't eyeing you. 

He isn't here yet, in fact, practically no one is. Some friendly faces and a few unknown, probably late nighters that go home around this time. After declining to grab breakfast with the rest of the group it leaves you with one other person, thankfully someone you recognize. 

"Imma go grab a drink." They inform. You nod and they take one last stretch before leaving the room. As they leave, the door lingers open as a new person enters.

"Oh, you're here early." He says.

You try not to roll your eyes because, of course, what timing. "I needed the time to stretch." You reply, your tone sounding unfriendly.

You both stare a while before looking away, you continuing to stretch while he goes to a corner to drop his bag. He stands quietly in his place in a daze, messing with his bottle cap. You try to ignore his presence, hoping someone else comes in to break the ice.

"Isn't it funny?" 

You flinch, "Huh?"

"We're quiet when we're actually alone with each other," he walks over, sitting on the floor a few steps from you, "Isn't it funny?"

"Well," you sit up, "I don't have anything to say."

He opens his legs, stretching forward, "We've been messing with each other for months now and you don't have anything to say?" He laughs.

"Why are you so focused on me?" You laugh back.

"Why wouldn't I be?" He asks, voice going soft.

You turn towards him, his eyes glassy and innocent, and for the first time you admit to yourself of how cute he is. His question tickles your ear, making your heart beat a little louder than usual. An answer, or at least something to change the subject, not even on your tongue. 

A knock is heard and you both turn to the door, noticing your instructor shyly glancing through the glass. "I thought I was interrupting something." He jokes, sliding through the door. You stand, chuckling gratefully at his timing.

The instructor comes Monday and Friday to check progress, take suggestions, and/or show a new song to choreograph. This is the first time in a while you were happy for his presence, but it didn't last long.

"Deadline four days away, deadline three days away." You mumble to yourself in your seat. 

Deadlines being hung over everyone's head as if that does anything. "If we miss this date, we can't extend" yadda yadda yadda. You decide to take a break since yesterday is still sore on your back, watching the other few that decided to stay and practice, one being taeyong of course. Even when you're not practicing he's a distraction, from his movements to the expressions he makes, sparks flares in your body. Even when he glances at you from the mirror you don't break away.

He walks over and reaches for the water sitting on the sill behind you.

"You seem awfully focused on me today." He smirks.

"You're fun to watch."

He leans in, "does that mean you're interested?"

Something sets off in your head, contrast to your shyness this morning, urging you to pull back. You grab at his shirt, playing a little too far, and pull him forward. He stretches his hand out to the sill to stop his fall, pausing face to face in front of you. Your teasing treading over a thin line between the usual jokes and hard flirting.

"Maybe just a little curious." 

A larger group enters the room to make the attendance more reasonable. They walk in as the two of you face each other, one looking sly while the other distraint.

"Get a room already."

You laugh, "Don't you guys get tired of the same jokes." You ask, attempting to break away from taeyong's wide eyes.

The dancer raises a brow suggestively, "Aren't you two a bit closer than your usual," he lifts his fingers mockingly, "jokes"

You scoff, letting your grip on the shirt let loose. Taeyong admits defeat by shying away, for the first time in a while, in the loud hype that's different than the group's usual chaffing. 

Even as everything settled there was a numbness in your hand from the warmth of his chest. The way his breath tickled your chin, and the look in his eye lingers in your head the rest of practice. While busying yourself with entertaining the crowd, avoiding his eyes, you swear he would've been able to hear your heartbeat.

~|•

"I'm tired." Someone announces, the rest of the room echoing their opinions on dinner as they start to crowd into a group of the starving and the people staying. Taeyong being the only one next to you for not wanting to leave to go eat yet, and the dancers rile up again with their jokes.

"So you two are staying alone again?" The dancer taunts with an annoying grin, "Maybe this time we won't interrupt." Another adds.

Taeyong waves them off, his neck going red directing them to the door while they continue. The door closes as the group leaving teasingly peeks through the glass. Taeyong pulls the shade over the door and the group exclaims before laughing and fading away down the hall. 

Silence settles in the room, even with two people still inside it. You and Taeyong awkwardly let your eyes wander around the room. The razzing never gets to you really, in fact, you've thought about it yourself. How being with the man fidgeting on the other side of the room would be, but it's more embarrassing to think about it when the person is right there, and is the only person right there.

"Um," You shift your eyes to taeyong, "So, should we go over the bridge again?" he finishes. You nod your head in agreement as you walk towards where your position, glad to do something that shakes off the silence.

The bridge of the song is still difficult to compose well with the moves prepared, nevermind adlibs. As you watch your movements in the mirror you hear snickering from behind you.

"What?" You smile. He waves his hands to excuse his laughing, "You look like a noodle." he giggles. Your face scrunches up, half hurt, half exaggerated as you mock his words.

"You either do too much or you're stiff." He teases.

You turn to him and he flinched, "You wiggle more than me." You accuse, now sounding a little offended by his criticism. 

"It's a wave not a wiggle."

"Well let's see you do it."

He scoffs, "My pleasure."

Taeyong positions himself while you reset the music. His body responds immediately to the first beat of the song, brushing and flowing through even the stiff movements. "See, right here." His chest raises as the rest of his body follows in a tidal motion. You gaze at how his hips roll through the movement, matching with the music in the background. Your mind seeming blank as several thoughts rush through your head, unable to keep one still to comprehend. The music pauses and your head snaps up to meet Taeyong's expectant expression.

"Did you hear? I want to see you now, and don't do this." He says, mocking what you supposedly were doing. You suck your teeth at him and he laughs, turning on the music.

You get into position and dance the way you normally dance. Not as fluid as taeyong but of course you have your own style. While watching yourself in the mirror you can see, out of focus, taeyong watching. His stare making your body heat up the more you focus on him.

"Ah, that's still not it." he complains, pausing the music. Approaching you, placing one hand on your side, he holds your hip as his other hand rests on your back. "Like this, follow carefully." His grip tightens, slightly lifting your hip and pulling it back as his hands travel to your waist to guide it to match the movement. 

Your heart drumming at the sudden contact, trying to think professionally as new thoughts rush in. His hand is warmer than expected. Veins poking at the surface, making it harder to suppress a blush as his hands move along with your body. Feeling like a massage while rocking you the way he wanted.

"Wait," you giggle. Taeyong tilts his head.

"It tickles." You excuse. It was a poor excuse, but it was the fastest to say that didn't result in more questions.

"Tickles?"

He thinks for a moment without letting go, his eyes seeing a little more dangerous as your heart sounds louder. His arms roam around you with his head perched on your shoulder, "I like holding you this way though." He grins, not yet settled into you. 

He's risking it, giving you all the cards. This strays far from what you two usually do to mess with each other that it's hard to excuse it as anything but flirting. His sudden stance seeming a little more alluring, feeding into the thoughts you've been having for a while now. You settle your hands over his arms, "Didn't we talk about this?" You say, not yet giving into him.

"About what?" He replies languidly, leaning into you.

"Don't tease me when we're alone, I might start believing you."

"Then believe it" He hums, swaying the both of you.

You stiffen to stop his swaying, brushing his arms from around you. "What?" he whines.

"That's not funny." You fuss, putting distance between the two of you.

"I wasn't being funny." He follows, reaching for your arm. 

He tugs at you to stop and you turn to him, waiting to shake him off. He slips closer, "Do you remember my reply?" He asks, giving your wrist a squeeze.

"To what?" You question, he doesn't answer. He stares for a moment, his eyes looking idle, and you stand across from him, waiting, wanting, expecting something. The beating in your chest you never noticed to fade comes back as Taeyong seems to scoot closer. Swiftly, he grabs hold of your face to attach your lips to his. It's short, but he pulls back, looking into your eyes for a response.

"Taeyong," you breathe, he doesn't let you finish, pulling you back in for longer contact. You hold onto his arms, not sure whether to give into your urges or to pull away. The movement of his lips slightly opening your mouth, he groans as you unconsciously deepen the kiss. He removes a hand to wrap an arm around to pull you closer. Your hands wander to his side, gripping his shirt as you back into a wall. 

"Please," he breathes, "Don't pull away." 

His desperation only fueling your own as you wrap your arms around his neck, tangling fingers in his hair. The desire held hidden behind each other's games now flooding through, making you both crave to go further. Your lips feeling like not enough as his hands fidget over the hem of your shirt, slightly brushing against the warmth underneath. You tug his belt loose as you two wander around the room for a surface, barely breaking apart from each other. 

The kiss parts once taeyong is backed into a sofa, you climbing on top as he gets settled in the new position. Tops go flying as you dig for each other's skin, taeyong pulling at your sports bra before kissing your exposed chest. He unbuttons your pants, a hand shoving itself through to tease at your wet folds. You sigh, grabbing his wrists to urge him to go further. He dips in through your labia before sinking a finger into your opening.

You twitch at the feeling as chills are sent up your body, the cold air in the room spiking your skin. He probes around, testing certain spots before adding another finger to satisfy the dull pleasure from before. You moan as his fingers retrace the spots you responded to, massaging into its softness. 

You clench around his fingers when his hand brushes up against your clit, grinding down, in an attempt to gain more friction. 

"What're you looking for?" Taeyong whispers. He shifts his hand, rubbing his palm into you, "Is it this?" He breathes, smiling at your whining. He rubs in harder, quickening the pace of his fingers.

Your hips jerk forward to follow his hands. "Baby," He grabs your side, "Slow down." He laughs, trailing kisses down your neck. Parting from nipping and sucking on your neck, he watches you desperately grind on him in awe. "God you're so responsive." 

You can't hear him, rubbing yourself against his palm as he works you to the edge with his fingers. A knot begins to form at the pit of your stomach, causing a twitch in your movements despite his hold on you. Before you reach your release he stops, pulling out and you whine. The wetness of his finger brushing against your swollen bud as he takes his hand out. 

He licks at the gloss inching down his fingers before holding his hand up towards you in curiosity. Without looking back at him, you lick at his fingers, sucking and allowing your teeth to lightly drag on the digits while he watches aimlessly. 

He curses as he pulls his hand away, tugging you in for a sloppy kiss. Teeth dragging at skin as he struggles with your pants.

"God, we have no room to do anything." He huffs, tossing your bottoms to the side before helping you undo his.

"We can do it on the floor." You throw in, nowhere near being serious.

He stops for a moment, wrapping an arm around you before sliding off the cushions.

You giggle, "I was joking."

Taeyong shushes you, "You say too much."

He pulls you up to straddle him as he pulls down his boxers, sighing into your touch as you grab him while positioning yourself. You stroke him as you tease yourself with his member, hands kneading impatiently at your hips while you pucker your entrance at his tip. The both of you sighing, rolling ur heads back as you slowly lower yourself on his erection. 

He throbs inside you, letting you take over until you feel comfortable with his size before grasping your hips and quickening the pace. Taeyong fondly watching as your noises echo through the room. Your hands clawing and grabbing at his shoulders as he rolls your hips on his cock. Your body desperate for more as you begin to grind against him.

He stops you, pulling out. Your breathing slows, looking at him confused. 

"Turn around." He demands.

You turn over, being greeted by a teasing slap on the ass. You wince at the sting and the hand still latched onto your hip nudges you to hurry. You look up as you settle yourself, meeting eyes with your reflection before quickly looking down.

"What's wrong?" Taeyong asks, trailing kisses up your back, "Is it the mirrors?" 

He lifts you up by the hips before pushing himself back inside you. You lose focus, grabbing his wrist as you rest your head on his shoulder. "Don't worry baby, you're beautiful." He sighs, slinking an arm around to grab your breast. 

He pulls you in close as he begins to rock into you. Selfishly, he begins to snap his hips into you, groaning as you dig your nails in his arms for support. He uses his hold on your hip to guide you in a rocking motion, not wasting time to regain the tempo.

"Do it like how we practiced baby" he moans. His force snaps you forward, your body burning from the friction, his wet kisses tickling your nape. 

"Taeyong please," you barely cry out, unable to keep up with him, "Slower."

Taeyong listens, loosening his grip and slowing down the pace, exchanging his speed with rougher strokes. You lean forward, stretching an arm out that hits the mirror glass in front of you. Smacking noises re-enter the room, louder than the moans and groans you both are attempting to keep under control. 

Grabbing your jaw, he lifts your head up to meet eyes through the glass. "Look at how pretty you are" he rasps breathlessly, giving you a full view of yourself in the mirror. Hair messy with sweat gathered around your hairline, mouth unable to close as every thrust forces out a breath. It's almost embarrassing how exposed you are, the only thing preserving your privacy being the blinds over the glass door. 

~|•

The next few days you decide to take a break from practice. Waking up the few mornings after that night made looking into your own reflection somewhat jarring. Besides, it'd be best to keep distance until your ears stop tingling from the memory of his breath, or until the lingering feeling of his hands go away. Even then, how do you go back to normal from that?

Turning over for the nth time to stare at the time as your thoughts pace back and forth with whether or not you should just go. The break and the sleeping in was nice and all but your body is eager to move now, and it doesn't feel the same practicing at home. You're only eight hours late, you should just stay in again, right? Go tomorrow maybe.

You turn back over and away from the clock, your body feeling more and more restless to the point where laying down is uncomfortable. 

You sit up with a huff and look around for some clothes to leave with, deciding that playing keep away from yourself is nothing but tiresome.

"I just hope he's not here today"

~|•

You peek into the room seeing a few others packing up on the other side of the room. He's seated in a wrongly facing chair in the corner, head propped up on the chair's backrest as his arms loosely lace around it. He glances at you before looking away, and what a coincidence for you to show up when the others were getting ready to leave. 

As you fight with whether it was dumb to be late or come dance in the first place the others pass by you and give a short greeting before leaving. When the door closes awkwardness chills the room, taeyong's chair tapping echoing through the room.

"Are you not leaving with them?" You ask, carefully. Taeyong shakes his head. You whisper an "Okay" to yourself to end the conversation and turn away from him, glancing at the mirrors.

"You can go ahead," Taeyong offers, "I'm just sitting here."

You nod and walk over to connect your playlist to the speakers. As you start to warm up you notice the gaze from the person behind you, trying your best to ignore him.

 "Are you nervous?" Taeyong asks, interrupting your concentration.

You pause and look at him from the mirror, "What makes you think I'm nervous?"

He points to the floor and you look down, "Your legs do a thing when you're nervous, you did it the other night too." His eyes widen and he flinches from his own words. Taeyong clears his throat and you sputter a few 'um'-s before turning the music up and continuing on with your routine.

Taeyong watches for a minute before getting up himself, following your movements with his own style. Shoes streaking the floors all the while your body selfishly moves with the rhythm and melodies, leaving your feet to catch up. The rolls and the twisting, making edgy motions seem charming, this is what you've worked for.

At some point a piece of the song starts to sound familiar, almost hauntingly familiar. Taeyong slows his movements to a stop and looks over at you. You stop and look over too, meeting his eyes. The music continues, playing the part of the song taeyong insisted on practicing together. You look away and finish off the song after avoiding the waving part, and taeyong continues to watch until the song ends. There's a pause in the atmosphere that you ignore to go dig for your water bottle. 

"Act normal and I wouldn't say anything, but acting awkward makes me want to talk about it." he explains, practically announcing it. His abrupt confession makes you choke on your water and he sucks his teeth at your reaction.

He leans against the wall, "What's the problem?" 

You hesitate to reply, taeyong continues, "Was it the sex?"

You cringe at the memory, "Not specifically," You start, "Just the fact that it was here."

He gives a confused look, "I thought it was obvious that we both didn't want to wait." You stare off to think back. "Plus," he lifts himself off the wall, walking towards you, "You push me towards the sofa." He accused, pointing a finger.

 You open your mouth to say something, "Ah!" he interrupts, raising his hand to stop you. 

He settles back in his seat, rolling it closer than where it's been when you first arrived. "Are you still not going to say anything?"

"I don't know what else to say."

Taeyong frowns for a moment, "Well," he starts, jumping from his seat.

"If you're going to avoid me," he continues, striding closer, "At least," he pauses as his hands move to settle on your sides, leaning into you, "Let me give you something to be embarrassed about."

You should feel confused, you should push him away, but the memories of the other night crawl back into your head. A new feeling or neediness dances through your head, causing your chest to feel hot like before.

He nudges you, lifting an eyebrow at your mused expression. "We should leave, no?" His hands creep up your shirt, caressing the skin under it, "Should we?" he repeats, eyes looking impatient. You play with his belt loops, not wanting to answer but setting an obvious hint to satisfy his questions. He grabs your wrists and pins you against the wall, head creeping past so his lips meet your ears.

"Am I asking a question?" he taunts, you nod. He hums, "And I expect verbal answers, yes?" He lets go of your wrists and settles his hands back on your waist, his grasp seeming desperate.

 "Am I taking you home or not?" 

[polyolefinprince]

What would you do for the next Pokémon region? What theme would the pseudo legendaries and legendaries be?

In terms of the actual region, I prefer fantasy lands to actual places (I'd rather explore Hyrule than NYC, you feel?) which also permits more diversity in location so there can be stuff like a desert area and a snowy area without it feeling forced. I'd also want caves to come back a bit. Places like the Ice Path in Johto allowed so much more exploration than locations like the Galar Mine which is just one path with an optional offshoot.

Honestly, I want a Breath of the Wild type of game where there is a lot more exploration and letting us approach the story how we want. Gyms would be hard to force in a more open-world game but in the past two generations they've been changing how gyms work so I think it's totally feasible to still incorporate that with badges acting as milestones to unlock stronger pokemon and areas. I still think having the region somewhat split up is a good idea, so maybe having different areas going further into the region, with three gyms per area, and you just have to beat one of them to go on but you're encouraged to beat all three so you're pokemon will on-par with the levels of the next region. This allows for a chance of a gym for each type which would give us 6 different levels of area, similar to Alola's four islands (I don't think I would want them to be islands though because the story requires more forest area than oceans). I think this works well because the first could be a classic Grass/Fire/Water trio, then maybe Electric/Ground/Flying as classic types to teach resistances, then Bug/Ghost/Poison to have a generally spooky vibe, then kick off the second half with the classic Fighting/Psychic/Dark trio, then Ice/Ground/Normal (partially because it's what is left and partially because by now you have typing figured out so a strong normal gym is a challenge) and the final one could be the stronger types with Dragon/Fairy/Steel.

In terms of the storyline, I love what Hoenn did with having two teams with contrasting views and depending on the game you chose you got to see different points of view. I want to try that again but have more nuanced arguments rather than Team Aqua and Magma's opinion on the size of the ocean. I think I'd want my two teams to be focused on Nature vs Society, where one team wants to exhaust the natural world's resources for industry and science while the other wants to push civilization back to make room for the return of forests and wild pokemon. This has definitely been done before so it isn't a new concept, but I think that it's something where arguing for the extremes can lead to disastrous consequences in either side. I'm talking Community Center vs Joja Mart but like to the max.

Playing off of that, Princess Mononoke is one of my two favorite movies and while I would love the forest spirit there to be the Nature legendary, I don't want it to be too similar to Xerneas. Instead, I think looking at the boar gods there is a good choice as they can show the wild strength of nature that I want. So the Nature legendary would be a Grass/Ground giant boar. Let's call it Boarture, even though that's not at all what it's name would be because that sounds too much like torture and I specifically want to stay away from making either of them evil, just dangerous. Still, Boarture works for now.

The Society legendary is harder. I don't want to minimize society to industry because that's harder to justify against nature. I still want industry to play a part, as well as scientific advancement but also history and art as important cultural cornerstones. There are a couple different type combos I like for this one, but my favorite is Fire/Steel, which isn't a type combo we've seen before and also pairs up human civilization really well with the myth of the first fire and cooking and shelter and stories which are all decidedly human traits and the steel incorporating technology and science. I think it would take on a more humanoid appearance while still being wisp-y, a body composed purely of a white fire fueled by ambition and hands of liquid steel that it shapes at will to demonstrate its creativity, while still being dangerous to embrace in entirety. Lets call it Muse.

It might be a lot, but I think I also want a separate legendary trio to accompany them both. With Boarture I think you should have to make a case to three disciples before you get to confront Boarture itself. Each of them composes an aspect of the natural world. I like the idea of them being bugs because there aren't enough strong bug types. One of them is Flying/Bug and it helps herald in storms, another is Rock/Bug and it presides over the desert, and the third is Water/Bug and it protects the rivers and streams throughout the region. For Muse's, I like the idea of them all being Fairies because fairy tales are a human creation, and each of them having to do with humanity and society. One would be Ghost/Fairy and presides ovrr stories and history, another would be Electric/Fairy and would be immersed in technology (like a non-tricky Rotom), and the third would be Psychic/Fairy and would deal with identity and the concept of the Self. I don't like the idea of Pokemon being version exclusive, as somebody who didn't have friends to play with growing up, so I think 3 would be plot relevant, but after the game is complete you can potentially go through a second quest to fight the second box legendary and with it in the party you could find the other 3.

Idk what I would do for pseudo legendaries tbh. I've always wanted a Fire/Grass forest fire pokemon so that would be there. I also want a Poison/Steel radioactive pokemon that would fit well with the industrial aspect of the games. I love the idea of a Water/Dark kraken-style pokemon but I don't know if it would fit in well with my idea of the region. A Grass/Fighting moose pokemon covered in bark? A Poison/Fairy witch pokemon with a special move where it throws a potion with different effects based on the type of Pokemon it throws it at? An Ouroboros pokemon that starts as just a snake trying to bite its tail but turning into a fearsome dragon?

Overall, I think it's ambitious. Making it so that the story is different depending on the version while still following the core story isn't too hard, they've done it before. On top of that, making it so you can fight between 6-18 gyms and not necessarily in order will allow incredible individuality to the games, making it feel like everybody can play their own game with a different story than their friend. It would also allow great replayability as people fight different gyms or challenges like a Nuzlocke but you can only fight one gym per area. Or fighting one gym per area and then going back with a fresh team to fight the next 6 and then a third team to be the final 6.

And then having a nature-team is a great segue into another Pokemon Rangers game which they could have done so well on the switch, with moving the controllers in a circle to catch pokemon.

The problem though is that the Pokemon Company is currently emphasizing quantity over quality. I legit don't know if we'll ever see another epic main pokemon game because they are so focused on getting smaller games that they know we'll buy just because it has pokemon in it. They are prioritizing profits over telling a good story with a good game right now, which is disappointing, but I think it's possible we are in the stage where pokemon as we knew it would have died off by now and the only reason it's still going is because there is still money to be made. This is unfortunate, but I understand that we can't have the pokemon we grew up with our whole lives.

[bainhardt]

#RibbonQuest2.0 - Part 3: Master Ball Rank or Bust

It’s kind of poetic, in a way. My very first meeting with Jin, and the beginning of our travels together, was commemorated with the chucking of a Master Ball - a guaranteed capture. It’s a one-of-a-kind ball typically reserved only for one-of-a-kind Pokemon (like Jin). When it comes to capturing Pokemon, the Master Ball stands above the rest as the symbol of infallibility, the promise of success overcoming any and all odds.

Well, we’re gonna need to channel that spirit in our latest challenge, because our success is anything but guaranteed: we have to take on the Master Ball rank in online rated battles for Pokemon Sword and Shield! Among our countless trials and triumphs spanning generations, Jin and I have never actually battled online against other real players. The World Ability Ribbon back in Platinum would’ve been our first foray, but the DS Wi-Fi connection had long been shut down in the time before our quest began.

Keeping with the theme of RibbonQuest2.0, this comes as an unexpected surprise. Jin, like all transfer Pokemon, is ineligible for rated battles; the standardized rules only permit Pokemon born and raised in the gen 8 games. Back when our time in Galar first started, I had never even planned on mentioning the Master Rank Ribbon, simply because we weren’t allowed to try and earn it!

But all of that changed with the release of the Isle of Armor DLC and patch version 1.2. By accepting the reset of your Pokemon’s move pool to only moves compliant with its gen 8 iteration, you’re allowed to mark your transfer Pokemon eligible for rated battles online! The icing on the cake is that Jin’s XD-exclusive purification move, Baton Pass (which I bent over backwards to keep even through all the Pokemon Contests), is now a TR which Farfetch’d can learn anytime. All’s well that ends well, I suppose.

It’s like getting your hand stamped at a concert, but with a side of forced amnesia.

With that, preparations were complete. There was nothing left to do but hop to it and get battling! The Master Ball Rank doesn’t earn itself, and if I’ve learned anything from our past, I think that means we’re going to need some help...

However, in the interest of cutting down on superfluous Ribbon Gang members like (sorry to single you out) Speedrun the Talonflame, I’ll only be honoring the final 5 actual contenders accompanying Jin when the ribbon is earned. Numerous grueling battles will be fought on the path to Master Ball tier and those stories will be lost to time, for only the best of the best deserve to call themselves part of Ribbon Gang 2.0.

I got boxfuls of second-stringers here, for real.

When first beginning in earnest with the July season, I mainly played Double battles, my preferred format for fun. I had a couple different teams, but never climbed any higher than Great Ball. Some teams of note included:

self-proc Weakness Policy Stamina Mudsdale with Skill Link support and Psych Up Stored Power follow up

Entrainment Plus Dedenne alongside special attackers with spread moves (coined the “fuck redirects” team)

a strange combo Sandstorm and Round team that was kind of an excuse to see if Refrigerate Aurorus could amount to anything

I was too committed to gimmicks, and at this time still hoped to reach the necessary heights using something built for fun at its core. I convinced myself that whenever I got around to really trying, it’d come together easily enough. In the past I’d do anything and everything to increase my chances of success, and I needed to return to this mentality moving forward.

After burn out from facing VGC competitive teams, several months of distraction with other games, and the arrival of 2021, I changed gears to test out Singles beginning in March. Despite having essentially zero experience with the format, I drafted two main teams during my Singles stint:

a Focus Energy Baton Pass team designed so every other Pokemon is then guaranteed crits with every attack

a Shedinja team with Pokemon like Ditto and Zoroark designed to help determine whether Shedinja can survive the opponents

Still sounds gimmicky, I know. I can’t help it. But a funny thing happened as I continued to chip away at this challenge: the Focus Pass crit team actually kind of... worked. Once you’re critting every attack, you start to notice just how many game mechanics critical hits outright invalidate. Intimidate? Your negative offensive stages are ignored. Bulk stacking opponents? Their positive defensive stages are ignored. Grimmsnarl and Lapras walling you out? Screens don’t apply against crits (although a Shell Armor Lapras did shut me down quite handily once). Honestly, the boosted damage almost feels like an afterthought.

Every team I played required considerable reworking as I’d progress, honing in on specific threats often encountered and dropping low-participation Pokemon who weren’t pulling their weight. There was even a rule set which allowed the use of extremely powerful Legendary Pokemon for a time (a very bad time). But all digression aside, allow me to introduce the team that would eventually carry me higher than ever, swiftly through Ultra Ball tier and directly into Master Ball. They are the new and final members of Ribbon Gang 2.0.

The ones on the left, I mean. This box is just more second-stringers.

First is Gepigop the Togekiss, sporting Super Luck as a core member of the original crit team. Spamming STAB Life Orb boosted Max Airstream is the Singles meta, after all. And he’s from my Y version, same as Speedrun!

Second is PkmnConquest the Kartana, probably the most consistent and useful member I picked up along the way. Give it a Scope Lens and it’ll BEAST BOOST its way to easy sweeps - just pray your opponent isn’t hiding any Fire types in the back...

It goes it goes it goes it goes it goes it goes it goes it goes Guillotine... the Weavile at number three. YUH. She was included as a direct response to the unending hordes of Cinderace and Zapdos I faced. Focus Sash and Counter helped her turn around so many unfavorable matchups, I can’t recommend it enough!

Bringing up fourth is 8008 8008 the Rhyperior. Need an idea of how broken Dynamax Zapdos’ bulk is? Rhyperior is the only Pokemon I found who can one shot it from full HP without needing to Dynamax in return... and even then, only using Rock Wrecker. Seriously.

In our final slot is AZKi the Espeon, because Hololive kept me company through many of my battle sessions, lol. After one too many Focus Passes were blocked by Taunt, I put an end to it with Magic Bounce. You remember that scene in The Incredibles where Syndrome’s robots were revised as they faced off against more and more heroes? She’s basically that.

By the time I was barely breaking into Ultra Ball tier, I found much greater success if I didn’t try to force the crit gimmick every time, but still had it if I wanted it on AZKi, the fourth in the succession of Focus Passers. Yes, after months spent honing my skills in battle, I finally learned that just bringing three Pokemon that can beat your opponent’s is the simplest way to a win. Incredible, I know. And win we did!

The final needed victory in Master Ball tier was secured by PkmnConquest, Guillotine, and 8008 8008, a trio I found myself locking in very frequently.

It’s... it’s beautiful.

With this Master Ball ribbon attached to my Master Ball Farfetch’d, we’ve finally brought our lengthy Galarian story to its conclusion. Having managed to snag this online-exclusive ribbon before these games lost popularity or network support, Jin is once again a tried and true Ribbon Master, and I’ve no unfinished business to worry about any longer.

Until it is time to take up your sword once more,

Rest easy, Jin.

POKEMON SWSH: COMPLETE!

[mysmashplaythroughs]

Ice Climber Playthrough

Fighter: Ice Climbers, Popo & Nana.

Game: Ice Climber, Wii U virtual console (NES). First Released on January 15th 2007.

Fighter Bio.

Popo and Nana are climbers who over their careers have scaled many mountains. They each carry a mallet which they use as their weapon in order to fight off dangerous animals and break ice blocks from below so they can jump up to the next platform. Popo is the one in blue and Nana is the one in pink. During the events of Ice Climber, it seems a Condor has stolen their food so the two compete to climb the mountain, reclaim all the vegetables they can and if possible, jump and grab onto the condor who flies above the mountain’s summit.

Friends: The exact relationship between Popo and Nana is unknown, in Ice Climber they compete whilst climbing the mountains to see who can get the highest score, however they are well known in the Super Smash Bros series as a duo and as such seem to be closer than simply rivals. Whether they are siblings, lovers or just good friends has never been stated, and I believe neither has their age.

Enemies/Rivals: The main antagonist of the Ice Climbers is the Condor, who has stolen the food and scattered it over the summit of the mountains. The Ice Climbers don’t fight the Condor but simply jump and grab onto it by its feet in order to complete a stage. Of the enemies the pair fight, there are Topis, which in Japan appear as seals but elsewhere appear as little yeti sort of round creatures with beaks. These enemies will repair ice blocks the Ice Climbers have broken, which means they will have to be broken again in order to pass. When hit with a hammer Topis retreat back into the entrances in the mountain they originally came from. Nitpickers who are birds that swoop in are another type of enemy, these will fall out of the sky if hit with a hammer. Finally, if the Ice Climbers take too much time on a stage, a polar bear with sunglasses and pink shorts will walk into the stage, and when reaching the middle of it, stamp the ground causing the stage to scroll up one level. If the Ice Climbers are on the level that is scrolled past they will fall and fail the stage. The Polar bear similarly to the Topis will retreat when hit with a mallet. Finally, there is a somewhat harder to get version of the game, Vs. Ice Climber which had a few changes to it, and in this version later on the Condor is replaced with a giant Moth instead which similarly has to be grabbed at the top of the mountain. This version of the game also has bees as enemies.

Crossovers with other Smash characters: It would seem there are none. The Ice Climbers similar to other characters appear in things like Warioware Microgames and NES Remix, but have not had any direct crossovers or cameos in any other games.

Why this game?

Very simply, because it’s the only Ice Climbers game really. There is another version called Vs. Ice Climber but it’s not as easy to get ahold of and the differences are pretty negligable.

My past with this game.

So, I have no past with this game, similarly to most people, I only really first saw Popo and Nana in Super Smash Bros Melee, and I had no idea where they came from. Some time later, I either read in a magazine or saw on a website that went over various easter eggs and things in Smash Bros what the original game was and it did like most things in Melee make me curious about it. I remember when actually getting a chance to play it though, unlike a lot of cases, I pretty quickly lost interest in the whole thing. It was neat Super Smash Bros brought such unusual and obscure characters into the game, reinventing them really (the official art for the characters is practically non-existent) but that’s really all I have to say overall about them. Now however, there’s one final thing I have to say about the series, which is, if Nintendo wanted to take a pretty much blank slate IP and do something completely new with it, I actually feel of any of them, this game could be the most interesting one to see get a sequel. Taking the concept of climbing mountains and just going wild with it could really lead to something special in my mind, like when they took the concept of Captain Toad’s bonus stages and expanded it into a whole game, only this time there wouldn’t be a restriction of it being specifically a Mario game. The first mountain could be essentially a remake of the original game, with the Topis, Polar Bear, Nitpickers and Condor at the top, then the game could go wild, mountains going up into space, all sorts of physics and gravity bending structures, mountains with a variety of themes, and given just how expansive game worlds can be nowadays, the mountains could end up being absolutely huge locations you have to climb up. This isn’t really a thing I write to make up things I’d like to see, but really, there’s so little to talk about with Ice Climber overall, that the potential revisiting this concept might allow for is honestly all I can find interesting about it.

My Smash Playthrough.

So, this part will be somewhat short, although I wanted to have something memorable about this game so I did two ‘playthroughs’. My first playthrough years ago was on the Wii U Virtual Console, where I simply played through a few mountains. Being made a year before Super Mario Bros, this game is far more in the vein of classic Nintendo arcade games such as Donkey Kong and Mario Bros, so there’s no real end to the game, just trying to beat your high score. I could have tried to get the Condor on every single level, but the thing is, the game honestly isn’t that good, even compared to other old arcade style games that were on the NES like Donkey Kong or Mario Bros. The most irritating thing is building up momentum with the jumps, where unless you’re running before you jump, you’ll barely be able to move in any direction whilst in the air. You’re required to smash blocks from below to make a hole you can jump through, so having a small gap (that the Topis can fill in if you’re too slow) and trying to propel yourself perfectly through it can be really irritating. This is part of the challenge I realise, but I tend to dislike when part of the challenge in a game is getting around how awkwardly a character controls personally.

Many years later, I decided to test out the Switch’s NES online service, which allows you to play NES multiplayer games with friends online. Because of this and Nana only appearing in two player games, I got a friend of mine to help me play through some stages. The game wasn’t overly fun this time either, but at least having a friend join me made it a little more memorable. Still overall, this game isn’t one I’d really call a classic of Nintendo’s past, although I still like the Ice Climbers in Smash, so I’ll be thankful it could lead to that, but that’s really it when it comes to this game.

Specific aspects about the game relating to Ice Climbers in Smash.

Well, they have hammers. Honestly, the only thing I really did with my ‘playthrough’ was play the game in multiplayer in order to have Popo and Nana both in the game. If you were really dedicated, you might be able to set up the game so that one controller moves player 1 and 2 simultaneously to try and replicate the way they move in Smash, but even I think that might be going too far. Anyway, the only other thing really is grabbing the condor at the end of the level, seeing as it makes up part of the Ice Climber’s Final Smash and their entrance, but that’s really it.

Credits.

For information on this game including dates of releases I must give credit to the Ice Climber Wiki. (Which yes does actually exist and had the info about the bees and moth in Vs)

The screenshots in this post are taken by me using Miiverse before it shut down and with the screenshot feature on Nintendo Switch.

[tortoisesshells]

Buying Time (2/6, probably, who knows, ~2,800 words, some salty language and more ways to not deal with grief)

Customs and Duties, but make it a modern!fake-dating AU with a severe lack of fake dating and more historical minutiae than any self-respecting modern AU should have; Part the Second, in which neither party has any luck with antique clocks, despite planned and unplanned meetings.

He never did see that coat again. Either someone had taken it, or maybe it had somehow found its way into the water that seemed omnipresent in that place – tidal creeks and ponds, the little river, the sea itself. One of life’s mysteries. There were others, from that day in January, but it was easier to think about the coat he’d lost.

Or why that particular shop: there was a bookstore nearby, and frankly that seemed a better place to finish sobering up before driving on to New York – where he would, in all likelihood, end up maudlin drunk on Andy Gillette’s couch, but at least get the thin satisfaction of someone worrying about him. At any road, he’d looked at the sign for S. J. Treat & E. C. Treat, Antiques – quaint, with a little hour-glass carved next to the names, and found himself inside – where he’d proceeded to make a complete ass of himself before the proprietor, who, contrary to what a sensible person would have done, sat him in a (modern) chair behind the counter and poured coffee from a thermos that might have actually have been an antique, listened to him ramble about Decatur and Barron because he’d been thinking that maybe his ancestors had been onto something, with their elaborate and ritualized pretenses for beating the shit out of each other over “honor” – and, after she was satisfied he was safe to drive, Mrs. Treat made sure he had  his keys, wallet, phone, and a water bottle before wishing him well. 

When he returned to Boston, he penned a note of thanks, knowing that it was wholly inadequate. Then, after his series of stilted emails with Elizabeth over the disposition of the apartment and everything in it, he’d had the idea.

*

Mrs. Treat politely insisted he pick the restaurant , since he was paying, and he insisted that she pick the restaurant, as she knew the area better than him. They probably would have stood there in the square batting courtesies back and forth like a deranged game of shuttlecock, before he made a tentative suggestion – which, contrary to her earlier assertions that she wasn’t picky – Mrs. Treat scoffed at as both too trendy and too loud, and steered them off in the direction of an unassuming shingle-sided tavern he hadn’t looked twice at on his initial and inebriated visit.

“It’ll be reasonably quiet,” she said, “And there’s a decent chance they’ve got the Franklin stove going.”

With that ringing endorsement, she ushered him into the bar, waved to the bartender, and pointed to a table that was, indeed, right next to an ancient woodstove – and sat in the chair closest to it.”

“I hope you don’t mind,” Mrs. Treat said, by way of an apology, “I get cold easily.”

“Not at all,” he replied, looking around the low-ceilinged room. “The decoration is …”

“A little idiosyncratic?”

He nodded.

“It’s what the tourists expect, I think.”

“They expect harpoons?”

“They’re not used,” Mrs. Treat said, with an expression that was very nearly a smile, “You’d be able to tell if they were. There’s a lot to be said about common misconceptions regarding 18th and 19th century maritime activity in this neck of the woods – or the coast, as the case may be – but that’s not what we came here to talk about.”

James privately wondered how you went about telling how a harpoon had been used, but missed his chance to ask: Mrs. Treat briskly arranged the tablet, folders, and notepads on the table, pausing only for the waitress to take their lunch order. Mrs. Treat recommended the scallops, and a local brewery with atrociously punned names, but he noted she only ordered a sandwich for herself. He thought of reminding her that he had asked her to find a clock that might very well cost more than a car and he wasn’t going to begrudge her a pint, but just as quickly scrapped the idea as horrifyingly bad-mannered.  She might not drink, after all. Or hate seafood.

“I’ll start with the bad news: the sum total of it is, I haven’t found your Williams shelf clock.”

“I assumed so.”

“I would get in touch right away if I had, absolutely. But I haven’t.”

Watching her twist her wedding band, he cleared his throat and asked: “Any good news?”

Mrs. Treat stopped her fidgeting and laughed. “The good news is that I can probably teach a specialist course on clock manufacture to 1850? I found more information on the Boston concern that Williams tended to purchase his clock-faces from, the history of brass rolling mills in New England – mostly Connecticut, by the way, none of your Hub nonsense here – though I don’t know for sure if Williams bought from Abel Porter and Co. or imported from England. You said your clock was early 18-teens, which makes trade with Britain a tad unlikely. There’s more information on the mahogany trade in there, as well. Book review for a monograph creatively titled Mahogany, by a Dr. Anderson – I suppose that’s part of the commodities trend where every other book was titled Cod or Pepper or whatever have you – in case you’re interested. Oh, and did you know that Williams once rented shop-room that had previously been occupied by a silversmith named Zenas Fearing?” She pushed a full manila folder across the table to him.

“If you want it,” she said, quickly, “I have all this in scans and pdfs as well, I can just email it to you. But I prefer hard copies.”

He took the folder and leafed through the pages, her annotations in red standing out against the page. “At this rate, Mrs. Treat, I’ll be able to construct it myself.”

“You might consider it. Shelf clocks are more common by the Federal period, but they’re still rare. If you could find a good source for Honduran mahogany you’d be able to make a pretty close replica to an original. Or just 3D print it, I guess.”

She sat back in her chair and swirled the ice around her glass with an apologetic smile. “I want to be clear, Mr. Norrington. I do believe that David Williams likely made multiple clocks of the type you’re describing, and I do believe that several have survived the last two centuries, and will come up for sale if they’re not already – these things can get misidentified. My failure isn’t an indication that it doesn’t exist, only – hmm. I say this as a professional: I appreciate your business and the trust you’ve put in me, but I’d be remiss if I didn’t at least tell you to consider going through a specialist. I don’t know clocks as well as I do desks and highboys.”

When he said he had consulted a specialist, Mrs. Treat cocked her head, and frowned. “Well. That’s good.”

He wasn’t sure what to say to that – she didn’t seem upset or offended, more puzzled than anything. He hadn’t meant it as an insult to her professional abilities; the dealers he had consulted spoke highly of her, tempered by the recent loss of her husband, who had been the founder of the business. Still, she looked at him cautiously – like she suspected something was afoot. “You care a great deal about this clock, I see.”

“One needs goals in life.”

“A lawyer’s answer,” she shot back. “But I understand, I think. And that really is all I have for you – there’s copies of correspondences with a few auction houses about Williams’ clocks – mostly tall clocks that have come up in the last half-century, some research from Newport Historical Society I called in a favor for – mostly about Williams and his contemporaries. Shockingly, most everyone wants to hear about William Claggett, so this is a bit thin – but if you ever get to Newport – the antiques show really is something! – you really should see the Claggett clock in the Redwood Library; it makes the to-do about him and his workshop seem very, very justified. There’s some auction results for the last few times one of his has come up, too. Just for comparison. Close to the back, yellow tab.”

Well. That was a number of zeroes.

“I appreciate your diligence,” he replied, closing the folder and pushing it to the side, to make way for the two plates the waitress was sweeping up with, and was very grateful for it, because he wasn’t sure what else there was for her or him to say. At least Mrs. Treat seemed to think one shouldn’t talk during the first few bites of a meal, efficiently clearing away half of her turkey club before setting the rest aside, and pushing her chips around her plate, which seemed an oblique signal that she’d welcome conversation, or still had something to say.

He didn’t say anything – a lawyer’s habit, maybe, though God knew it’d never helped him outside of the courtroom; or maybe he was still feeling a little foolish for letting the blind grief and very old scotch go to his head that day, and wasn’t entirely sure who Mrs. Treat was, even after doing some due diligence of his own: she seemed personable, dedicated, and honest – too honest for her own good, if she was encouraging him to look elsewhere. The glasses she wore on a chain gave her the air of a librarian, or slightly eccentric aunt – appropriate enough for her occupation. Still, it was rude to be too quiet for too long, and Mrs. Treat really had done an admirable job given the conditions.

“Will you permit a question, Mrs. Treat?”

“Of course.”

“You needn’t have given me all this information – or anything else that you’ve sent along. I would have been satisfied with an email that was some variant on ‘Not yet.’ Why all this?”

“It’s the slow season for me. Almost no foot traffic between the holidays and Memorial Day weekend – a spike around Valentine’s Day and St. Pat’s, because of the road race – but all in all, winter into early spring’s my designated vacation time. I liked the challenge – and I spent a lot of summers in Newport, when I was a teenager.” She paused, before looking at him curiously. “Will you permit a question?”

He nodded.

“I’ve been assuming you’re looking for a Williams clock because there was one passed down in your family – how did your family come to acquire the original? I’ve had to get very good at family genealogies over the years, but I wouldn’t have to have done so to know you’re not from a Newport family.”

“An antecedent married a woman from Newport; it came with her to the marriage.” If there had been an implicit question in why he did not have that original clock, he ignored it – better leave it as some question or quibbling over inheritance. Old families were fairly notorious for that. His cousins still weren’t speaking, even after fifteen years had passed, over the disposition some porringers. God alone knew what Hell would break loose when Grandmother passed away, and left the Burt silver tea service to one her descendants.

“Good provenance,” was all the reply that Mrs. Treat made on that score – all the reply she could make, because her phone began to ring and, apologetically, she checked the ID before blanching. “It’s my daughter’s school – if you’ll – just a moment – I’ll be right back!”

And she was – dashing back to the table looking like she was either about to break something or cry. “I am sorry, Mr. Norrington – I have to cut this short – my daughter’s been in a fight at school – she bit someone, actually – no blood, thank Christ – and, well –”

“I understand,” he said, rising to his feet belatedly, because he felt he ought to.

“Bless you! Do you want the folder with all the copies? Yes? Great. I’ll be in touch in June. Enjoy the spring up in Boston!”

Mrs. Treat rushed out the door, and he sat back down with the folder. If nothing else, it’d be more interesting that his current caseload.

*

In his inbox, not a few hours later, was a painstakingly polite email containing more than one apology and several thanks for understanding as he had:  Just in case (she wrote) I’ve set up a DropBox with all the info in the folder, find it at this link, I am profoundly sorry for my unprofessional behavior, Best Regards, Elinor Treat.

He replied immediately that there really was no need for her apologies: though personally unable to relate to the experience of managing children alone, his sister’s children were enough of a handful, and – came the sobering thought – they hadn’t just lost their father the year before.

Biting, though. He wanted to ask, but that would be rude.

And as May rolled through into June, Theo reminded him that it had been six months, and there was no time like summer to at least try to start dating again. This struck him as profoundly collegiate, and he said so, which led to a completely fruitless argument over whether or not either of them had dated in college, and why or why not, and how that at all had any bearing on the subject at hand – the only thing worse than arguing with a lawyer, he supposed, was being one yourself and doing it anyway. Like being an electrician and still sticking a fork in a wall socket.

He won a one-month moratorium on the topic, but that seemed pretty pyrrhic, all told. Weatherby Swann still couldn’t look him full in the face – and he didn’t anticipate that starting to date again would at all endear him the senior partner turned Gubenatorial hopeful. Or maybe it would? Swann could breathe a sigh of relief that it hadn’t been so serious as it seemed at first – no broken hearts, no resentment. Just two people who weren’t quite meant to make it.

He was out of his office before he knew it, saying something vague about getting lunch to Ned Jarsdel and he’d be back shortly, etc. etc. – and didn’t even notice he had a shadow until Theo Groves jumped into the elevator behind him with an obviously innocent expression.

“Someone’s got to make sure you eat your greens,” Theo said, airily.

“I’m not six years old,” James replied. He said it petulantly enough that it sounded like he was, and his junior snorted. Decades of incredibly expensive education, and that was the best he could do.

“You eat like you are.”

“And you know many first-graders who survive on scotch and bagels?”

“More in the sense of, ‘You can’t be trusted to eat a nutritionally balanced meal on your own account,’” Theo corrected, following him into the noisy lobby, “Honestly, it’s a marvel you haven’t developed scurvy by now.”

James tried to think of concrete proof he’d eaten something with vitamin C in the last week, but came up short, and settled for sniping that Theo had a job and caseload of his own – which, somehow, turned into another bout of unproductive bickering that lasted  up State Street, and James pretended he didn’t notice he was being herded towards Sweetgreen (or however it was spelled). With the vaguest glimmer of self-knowledge, he knew he was bristling from the shame of being seen to be incompetent; it didn’t stop him bristling, but at least he let himself be chivvied along through the crowds and the late-spring sunshine.

This was, of course, the moment he encountered Elinor Treat again.

“Mrs. Treat?”

She was standing on the edge of a group of children, clustered around a tricornered guide at the Old State House – and whirled around at being hailed with a puzzled look, until she spotted him and waved. With a word to another woman, she broke away and jogged over. “Mr. Norrington, hello! Forgive me – I’m here with my daughter’s class – end of year field trip, you know. I hope you’re well?”

Very aware that Theo was suddenly Interested in the proceedings, James was as dry as possible in introducing the two: Theodore Groves, a junior associate; Elinor Treat, antique dealer.

“Allegedly,” she said, with a sort of chagrinned cheerfulness, “I’m afraid I haven’t been very helpful yet.”

“Yet?”

Mrs. Treat looked at him rather than answering Theo’s question outright; he supposed he appreciated her discretion. “She’s investigating a family heirloom for me,” he replied, which was at least partially true.

“An interesting line of work,” said Theo.

“It has its moments. It does put a target on my back for chaperoning these kinds of trips, though – and we’ve still got to make to Charlestown.” She glanced over her shoulder at the school group, anxiously, “I don’t mean to be rude, but I’ve got to get back. Responsibilities aside, my daughter’s a firecracker and even the Massacre won’t be enough to keep her occupied long. Goodbye! I’ll be in touch!”

Blessedly, Theo said nothing until after they’d gotten their lunches, and sat out in the sun. “So. She seems nice.”

“You have another two weeks before you’re allowed anything on the topic,” James replied, stabbing at his under-dressed spinach bad-temperedly.

[oh-boy-me]

Mammon did it he and the rest of the Pokémon team beat the Elite Four and the champion!

Below the cut is a summary of the battles for anyone who was interested in this Pidgeot and his friends.  Since I talked about it (and because I’m pretty proud of accomplishing it) I thought it would only be fair to not leave anyone in the dark lol (and to brag I get bragging rights).

It was fun to do this, so maybe I’ll do another Obey Me-themed challenge run more publicly one day.  For now, this is no longer on my mind and I’ll probably get the next request out later today :)

First up, a recap of the challenge rules, so you know why some of my movesets are abysmal.

A Pokémon can only use its level up moveset.  TMs and HMs are not allowed.

When a Pokémon wants to learn a new move, I HAVE to accept it, and I HAVE to replace the oldest move.

I obviously need HMs, but I can't use those Pokémon in battle (shoutout to Simeon the Lapras, Barbatos the Beedrill, and unnamed Doduo for those roles.)

Next, the team!

Solomon (Lv 60 Kadabra): His only attacking move is Psychic, but as you either know or will soon come to know, a good psychic type is essential to beating this game.  Solomon almost got boxed because for a while he had zero attacking moves, but luckily for him Psychic is good enough that I switch-trained him up to it.

Asmo (Lv 55 Golbat): My girl carried me through most of this game, but unfortunately I think she's going to be mostly a set-up/sacrifice Pokemon for this part of the challenge.  I can't level her up any further because I know that at Lv 56 she'll replace Confuse Ray with Haze.

Luke (Lv 57 Raichu): I actually boxed Luke back when he was a Pikachu after some bad moveset changes.  But he made a comeback, and now he's a crucial member of the team with powerful electric moves.  Plus, his speed is insane and I accidentally EV trained him in Special Defense, what with all the Tentacool I killed.

Satrio (Lv 62 Dugtrio): Satrio is very useful in some situations and useless in others, since three of her four moves are ground.  However, her high attack stat, boosted by soft sand, and her SUPER high speed, are crucial to this.  He also saved me so much time when she had Dig.  What a good girl.

Bellphie (Lv 57 Victreebel): While training him I learned that apparently Pokemon that evolve via stone don't learn any new moves after evolving!  Fun!  I decided that move tutor moves were fine as long as I taught them in the right order, so I caught a bunch of Paras in the safari zone for their mushrooms and gave him a proper moveset.

Mammon (Lv 62 Pidgeot): My boy.  My boy.  My second Pokemon after Levi the Squirtle.  He's been through it all.  He has one attacking move, but that's not all that's up his sleeve.  Mammon has tricks and he intends on using them.

With that out of the way, we move on to the Elite Four Challenge.

--Lorelei--

Lorelei is the ice type Elite Four member, and if you noticed, uh.  4 of my 6 Pokemon are weak to ice, and none of them can do anything to an ice type either.

However!  Gen I didn't make any ice type pure ice, so four out of five of Lorelei's Pokemon are part water.  And I have Luke.

Lorelei leads with Dewgong and I lead with Luke.  I immediately use Thunderbolt on it, which isn't enough to KO, but is more than enough to force Lorelei to use a full restore on her next turn.

Each major story battle, the opposing trainer has a set amount of healing items to use.  The Elite Four has two full restores each.  From what I've seen, they're programmed to use one full restore if their Pokémon finishes a turn with their HP below a certain threshold, but they won't use more than one per Pokémon (barring the last), and won't use their second restore until their ace Pokémon is on the field.

Lorelei uses her first full restore, and I use Slam to put Dewgong back into KO range.  Since I outspeed, Luke takes out Dewgong with one more Thunderbolt.

Luke then oneshots her Cloyster with Thunderbolt and levels up to Lv 58.  From now on, I need to be careful with when I use Luke, because he can't level up any more than this.

He nearly oneshots Slowbro as well, and the first slam that actually hits finishes it off.

I use Slam against Lapras, knowing that even the stronger Thunder can't oneshot it.  Unfortunately, Lapras' first move is Confuse Ray, meaning Luke has a 50% chance to damage himself instead of attacking.

And he doesn't!  But he misses Thunder.  Luke then teams up with Lapras to beat himself up, and Luke faints.

I switch into Satrio to finish Lapras off.  What's that, you say?  Satrio is ground type; she's weak to ice!

True!  But Satrio is very fast and has Earthquake.  She takes out Lapras with two Earthquakes, tanking a Surf in between with no problem.  Jynx is an easy oneshot with Earthquake too.

And with that, the first E4 member is down.

--Bruno--

Bruno is a fighting type trainer who seems to always use the same order of Pokemon: Onix, Hitmonchan, Hitmonlee, Onix, and Machamp.

We have Bellphie and Solomon, though.  Bellphie takes out both Onix with a single Razor Leaf each, and Solomon handles the fighting types with Psychic.

--Agatha--

Next up is the ghost type E4 member, but did you know that Gengar was the only Gen I ghost line?  Agatha fills in the blanks with poison types.  Did you also know that the Gengar line is entirely part poison?

Do you know what move is super effective against poison types?  Psychic.  Solomon uses Psychic five time, and then the battle is over.

--Lance--

Just like I had nothing for ice types, I have nothing for dragon types.  Dragon is only weak to dragon and ice in this generation, and I have neither type on my set.  My only goal right now is this: keep Mammon healthy until Dragonite uses Outrage.

Lance always leads with Gyarados, so my obvious choice is to lead with Luke.  I don't.  I forget to switch Solomon out of the first slot.  But Luke is a good boy who survives Hyper Beam upon switching in and uses Gyarados' horrible weakness to electric against it with a Thunderbolt.

Next up is to force my way through his two Dragonair with my strongest non-resisted move, Earthquake.  One Earthquake puts it in full restore range, a slash puts it back in KO range, and then Earthquake again finishes it.  An Earthquake and a Slash take out the second, since Lance won't use his second full restore until Dragonite is out.

Speak of the devil!  Dragonite comes out and I switch into Bellphie to land a stun spore.  A paralyzed Dragonite has its speed cut by 75% and has a 25% chance to not move at all.  Unfortunately, it uses safeguard, which protects Lance’s team from status moves, so I can't finish the paralyze-confuse combo.  All Asmo can do is tank hits and wait for Outrage.

With some good paralysis luck and a critical air cutter, Asmo gets Dragonite below half health, before it finally uses Outrage and knocks her out.

It is finally Mammon's turn.  Dragonite is locked into Outrage for the next 1-2 turns, so Mammon uses Wing Attack to wait for Outrage to hit him, after which he is finally free to act.

See, Mammon has a move called Mirror Move, which will copy the last move used against him.  Outrage is a dragon type move that has no choice but to happen on consecutive turns.  Dragon is weak to dragon, so Mammon has successfully given me a super effective move.

Lance can't use a healing item while Outrage is active, so Mammon takes out the Dragonite.

The last Pokemon is Aerodactyl, which Solomon can handle with Psychic.

--bITCH--

The final battle.  Blue always leads with Pidgeot, so I lead with Luke, and this is why I had to be conservative with him.  I have zero idea how many full restores Blue has, but it's too many.  FAR too many.  I don't want to oneshot Pidgeot; I want to force Blue to waste one of his full restores on a Pokemon that can't win its match.

Luke just BARELY doesn't kill Pidgeot, so Blue does waste the item, and the same move combo I used to take out Dewgong works on Pidgeot.

Bellphie takes out Rhydon with one Razor Leaf, and while Alakazam used to be a run-ender for this team, Satrio outspeeds it and takes it out with one Earthquake.

Mammon comes in to battle Venusaur, and Blue doesn't know how to use Venusaur so Wing Attack just has to get past his setup stalling.

Next up is Gyarados, but Luke is still healthy so we know how that goes.

Last is Arcanine, the bane of my existence.  It won't die.  Its attack stat is insane.  It has Extreme Speed, a priority move.  And Blue bought the entire stock of full restores.

I switch into Solomon to take Arcanine's Intimidate.  Intimidate cuts the opponent's physical attack stat upon the user switching in.  However, this is Gen III, so psychic type moves are always special.  I use future sight to get in some emergency damage padding, but Flamethrower and Extreme Speed take Solomon out before I can do anything else.

Solomon protected Satrio from Intimidate though, so Satrio is able to withstand an Extreme Speed and oneshot Arcanine with Earthquake.

And with that, Ah shit defeated Rival bITCH and became the Pokémon League Champion!