crossyourhearts-blog

[crossyourhearts-blog]

luvdisc

Holy shit I literally want fifty a these guys. Can I just get an aquarium a luvdiscs

Captured: Bewear, Mesprit, Tyranitar

Boxed: Amaura, Luvdisc x 50

Released: Flaaffy

[crossyourhearts-blog]

Tyraniitar!!

Now we're talkin, get some muscle on th team. This guy gets me

Captured: Bewear, Mesprit, Tyranitar

Boxed: Amaura

Released: Flaaffy

[crossyourhearts-blog]

Amaura

I like his lil side gem an eyebrows, hes got style

Captured: Bewear, Mesprit

Boxed: Amaura

Released: Flaaffy

[crossyourhearts-blog]

Mesprit

I see what yer doin, this guys a pretty big deal, huh? I like it

Captured: Bewear, Mesprit

Boxed:

Released: Flaaffy

[crossyourhearts-blog]

Flaaffy

Hes cute, fer sure, but looks a lil fluffy. Seems more Aradias thing

Captured: Bewear

Boxed:

Released: Flaffy

[crossyourhearts-blog]

also its a bear

Nice one, Strider

[crossyourhearts-blog]

bewear deliver of deadly hugs

Aw, hell yes, look at im go.

Captured: Bewear

[crossyourhearts-blog]

Put a Pokemon in my muse’s askbox and they will either catch it or let it go; but they can only catch 6 total!

[crossyourhearts-blog]

Shipping Diary: Entry 208

Dear diary, holy shit.

Its been a while since I last wrote, but a lot has been happening. A lot a lot. So much.

I tried admitting some red feelins but....it didnt really work out. For me. But thats okay, thats not important.

The biggest news is Psii. Hes back from whereever the fuck hes been, an he and the Margrave an the Baron had it out, appaently.

I thought at first it was just sorta that troll thing,they can get pretty violent, but apparently its much deeper. Droog had to get involved, and lemme tell you, I could fill up this entire book talking about it. But I wont.

BECAUSE! I saw them interact this morning, like theyd been hate pals for years. Could some kind of black romance be blossoming? Did they rekindle some kind of flame? What about the Baron?

The Baron... ❤️

Ill update ya again when I catch up with everyone!

[crossyourhearts-blog]

Your sobs echo through the now empty streets. Wave after wave of confusing emotion hits your mind, unrelenting, one questions answer leading you to challange a different answer's question. You werent made for this, its not in your capacity to solve moral issues, you dont have the brain or the heart for it.

What is right, what is wrong. Its always been whatever was best for the crew, youd never worried about reprecusssions of your actions before.

But now..

You want to go back. Back to when you were just a brute. Where all you had to worry about was the enemy and no one expected you yo make decisions or see things from different perspectives. Why did you ever get taken from the battlefield. If that had never happened--

Your tears slow, a quick breath in halting your train of thought. No, no...If youd never been taken, youd never have met your crew...

With some difficulty, you turn over, laying on your back in the flesh and blood. The stars...where are the stars? You close your eyes and dream of glorious battle. Whatever happens now, at least you have your memories.

crossyourhearts‌:

There’s not as much satisfaction in that punch as you thought there’d be. It was already traumatizing enough to kill him once, you really don’t want to do it again.

Hes right, though. You’d fought with him, you’d seen him, you’d mourned with him. But why…if hes right, then why. Being lifted into the air breaks you from these thoughts. What can you say, though. Nothing. You stay silent as you’re thrown, letting out only a pained groan as you skid across the flesh covered ground.

“I…” You try to speak. To find something to say in your defense. Maybe that’s a brutes weakness; good at attacking, terrible at defending. Was it just that blaming him for your misery was easier than understanding the whole situation? Could you have understood it if you tried?

There’s a schism growing in your heart. You love your crew, you’ve been through everything with them, you’d gladly die for them. But lately…there are questions in your head that weren’t there before. About what you did that fateful day. Are you only only one with doubts? With regrets?

“I don’t know. I don’t know what to think anymore.” The tears you’d been keeping back return at full force, dripping heavily down your bloodstained cheeks. You barely push yourself back up, hearing a grinding in your chest that is most definitely a broken bone or two.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I don’t know if what we did had to be done, I don’t know anymore. I mourned for so long after it happened, as if that would make it better. We just wanted peace.” Or you, at least, just wanted peace.

Look at him, lying on the floor and crying. “How pathetic,” you scoff. How did he defeat you again? Right, through cowardly backstabbing. “Your peace brought doom to all of us.”

You pick up the spear next to you and step towards him. You ought to execute him for his crimes… but listening to his whimpering made your anger dissipate and only utter disgust is left. 

You shove the spear down, into the ground next to him. May the dogs have him. You’re done with him. It’s time to leave.

[crossyourhearts-blog]

Theres not as much satisfaction in that punch as you thought thered be. It was already traumatizing enough to kill him once, you really dont want to do it again.

Hes right, though. Youd fought with him, youd seen him, youd mourned with him. But why...if hes right, then why. Being lifted into the air breaks you from these thoughts. What can you say, though. Nothing. You stay silent as youre thrown, letting out only a pained groan as you skid dacross the flesh covered ground.

"I..." You try to speak. To find something to say in your defense. Maybe thats a brutes weakness; good at attacking, terrible at defending. Was it just that blaming him for your misery was easier than understanding the whole situation? Could you have understood it if you tried?

Theres a schism growing in your heart. You love your crew, youve been through everything with them, youd gladly die for them. But lately...there are questions in your head that werent there before. About what you did that fateful day. Are you only only one with doubts? With regrets?

"I dont know. I dont know what to think anymore." The tears youd been keeping back return at full force, dripping heavily down your bloodstained cheeks. You barely push yourself back up, hearing a grinding in your chest that is most definitely a broken bone or two.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I dont know if what we did had to be done, I dont know anymore. I mourned for so long after it happened, as if that would make it better. We just wanted peace." Or you, at least, just wanted peace.

crossyourhearts‌:

You’re pulled close and your heart nearly stops, eyes wide as your grip on the spear loosens. You’re not exactly a weapons expert anyway, the most you could have done is bapped him with it. Which would have been pathetic, really.

“I–!” His fists come smashing across your face and you go sprawling, hitting the soft, fleshy ground with a splatter of blood. Oh, its been a while since you were hit that hard. The hearts in your eyes briefly flicker from pink to red, losing their form ever so slightly.

“Maybe…that’s how it started…” You say, blood pouring from your mouth as you push yourself up. “I really wanted to believe it, you don’t know…how much I wanted to believe that.” You hold back the tears. Not now.

With difficulty, you stand, your entire front drenched in blood.

“But you just wanted soldiers. A million, million soldiers…bodies piled up on the battlefield and they were just thrown away so more could take their place. Your loyalty wasn’t to us, it was to Derse!”

You charge him this time, fists balled, aiming for the cracks in his shell. Fueled by anger and pain, you don’t even think through how bad an idea this is.

“How many brute fought for you! Died for you! Just to get tossed to the side! We loved you!!”

He looks miserable. As he should. You want to break him more. Give him what he deserves. And yet you take no joy in it. He had been your soldier. A man you trusted. It should have never gone this way.

“I know how many it were. I know the numbers. I know their names! Every single one!!” Anger makes your voice tremble. And yet the anger was easier to handle than the sorrow lying deep beneath it.

“I loved you as well! I fought for you! I fought with you! On your side in every battle, until the day we may be victorious, or I would fall beside them. But you called me a tyrant and robbed me of that honor!”

He comes at you and you let him. Your body doesn’t move an inch when you take his punch. Blood gushes and a wheeze escapes, hiding in a deep growl. It hurts, but it was a vanishingly small pain compared to the aches radiating through your body and very soul.

“I never chose this war…  I cursed the fate given to us as much as everyone else. I know they blamed me for it and I endured their scorn.”

You grab his hand and hold it, much like the spear before. Except he can’t drop this one so easily.

“But what, pray tell, Brute, was I supposed to do? Watch my people starve? Tell them over and over again why we cannot afford these children they wish for? Why they will never have the lives they deserve?! What king would I have been, if I just tucked tail and let the sundwellers chase us back into our misery?”

You pull his arm up until he lifts into the air, may he struggle as he will. 

“Damned if I do, damned if I don’t!” With that you fling him back against the ground, right where he belongs.

[crossyourhearts-blog]

Youre pulled close and your heart nearly stops, eyes wide as your grip on the spear loosens. Youre not exactly a weapons expert anyway, the most you could have done is bapped him with it. Which would have been pathetic, really.

"I--!" His fists come smashing aross your face and you go sprawling, hitting the soft, fleshy ground with a splatter of blood. Oh, its been a while since you were hit that hard. The hearts in your eyes briefly flicker from pink to red, losing their form ever so slightly.

"Maybe...thats how it started..." You say, bloodng pouring from your mouth as you push yourself up. "I really wanted to believe it, you dont know...how much I wanted to believe that." You hold back the tears. Not now.

With difficulty, you stand, your entire front drenched in blood.

"But you just wanted soldiers. A million, million soldiers...bodies piled up on the battlefield and they were just thown away so more could take their place. Your loyalty wasnt to us, it was to Derse!"

You charge him this time, fists balled, aiming for yhe cracks in his shell. Fueled by anger and pain, you dont even think through how bad an idea this is.

"How many brute fought for you! Died for you! Just to get tossed to the side! We loved you!!"

crossyourhearts‌:

It feels like only seconds after you start running that you feel yourself shoved roughly to the side, like someone bodied you at full strength. You slide in the gore, bloody shoes giving you no traction as you try to right yourself. What are you going to do. Even if this were under normal circumstances you wouldn’t be able to fight him. Not alone! You cant do anything on your own!

As his shadow dwarfs you, you turn to look up at him. The man, the myth, the legend. The nightmare.

“Call it a…tactical retreat…” You say quietly, hoping the bravado of your words will outweigh how utterly terrified you sound. At the same time you take off again, this time heading towards an alleyway. Maybe he wont be able to follow.

“Tactic? Is that what you do now?”

He runs again and you let them, a little amused, a little frustrated. The idea of a hunt excites you. Doing it? Not so much. You’re tired. You want him to fight you, not play cat and mouse.

You pull out one of the spears from your back and throw it after him. Maybe it hits him, maybe it makes him stumble so you can catch up before he’s gone.

“Was it tactic to kill me too??!” you call after him. You sound utterly enraged, as you justifiably are, and a little bit heartbroken. Didn’t you do everything for them? Give everything, to fight on their side??

[crossyourhearts-blog]

Any experienced fighter knows you should never turn your back to the enemy. And this is a perfect example of why. The spear finds its mark easily, a big enough target, piercing skin and shell.

But its not the spear that causes you to stop, its his words. The sound of them, his voice. It strikes a blow far more painful. You grit your teeth as you pull the spear out, gripping it in front of you as you turn to him.

"That...it wasnt like that." You say, trying to force yourself to look up at him. You cant. If only you could blame it on coding alone.

"The queen...the monarchy was corrupt! We had to do something!"

crossyourhearts‌:

It feels like only seconds after you start running that you feel yourself shoved roughly to the side, like someone bodied you at full strength. You slide in the gore, bloody shoes giving you no traction as you try to right yourself. What are you going to do. Even if this were under normal circumstances you wouldn’t be able to fight him. Not alone! You cant do anything on your own!

As his shadow dwarfs you, you turn to look up at him. The man, the myth, the legend. The nightmare.

“Call it a…tactical retreat…” You say quietly, hoping the bravado of your words will outweigh how utterly terrified you sound. At the same time you take off again, this time heading towards an alleyway. Maybe he wont be able to follow.

“Tactic? Is that what you do now?”

He runs again and you let them, a little amused, a little frustrated. The idea of a hunt excites you. Doing it? Not so much. You’re tired. You want him to fight you, not play cat and mouse.

You pull out one of the spears from your back and throw it after him. Maybe it hits him, maybe it makes him stumble so you can catch up before he’s gone.

“Was it tactic to kill me too??!” you call after him. You sound utterly enraged, as you justifiably are, and a little bit heartbroken. Didn’t you do everything for them? Give everything, to fight on their side??

[crossyourhearts-blog]

It feels like only seconds after you start running that you feel yourself shoved roughly to the side, like someone bodied you at full strength. You slide in the gore, bloody shoes giving you no traction as you try to right yourself. What are you going to do. Even if this were under normal circumstances you wouldnt be able to fight him. Not alone! You cant do anything on your own!

As his shadow dwarfs you, you turn to look uo at him. The man, the myth, the legend. The nightmare.

"Call it a...tactical retreat..." You say quietly, hoping the bravado of your words will outweigh how utterly terrified you sound. At the samr time you take off again, this time heading towards an alleyway. Maybe he wont be able to follow.

crossyourhearts‌:

Its hard to run. The flesh tears beneath your feet, fog slowly changing from a dull grey to red. The fog of war. A million, million bodies’ blood spraying so thin it coats the air –

No! No, the war is over. Its been over. Stay present. Stay yourself Find the others. The dogs follow you, but you manage to outpace them. Eventually you hear them stop, so you do as well. Pack instinct. What would make the dogs stop the hunt?

And then you see it.

Them. Both of them, together, a horror to behold. Shaking hands move to your mouth to keep yourself from screaming. Traitor. Theyre right. You are. No. Please, no more. You havent seen the king in so long, but you can recognize him. How could you not.

You dont hear what the queen says, but when the king charges, you turn and run. Breaking through the line of wolves, tears streaming down your face as you run faster than you ever have in your life. You know the king. Youve seen him in the heat of battle. He’ll kill you. And youd never be able to stop him.

When you follow, the beats back away, snarling and snapping at you as you pass, but they would never bite the hand that feets them.

The Brute runs fast, but with your size, you reach him in just a few leaps. With a swing of your hand, you shove him off his bring to a skidding stop. Next, you’re above him.

“A Brute does not run from battle” you remind him, your voice booming more monstrous than it ever did.

[crossyourhearts-blog]

Its hard to run. The flesh tears beneath your feet, fog slowly changing from a dull grey to red. The fog of war. A million, million bodies' blood spraying so thin it coats the air --

No! No, the war is over. Its been over. Stay present. Stay yourself Find the others. The dogs follow you, but you manage to outpace them. Eventually you hear them stop, so you do as well. Pack instinct. What would make the dogs stop the hunt?

And then you see it.

Them. Both of them, together, a horror to behold. Shaking hands move to your mouth to keep yourself from screaming. Traitor. Theyre right. You are. No. Please, no more. You havent seen the king in so long, but you can recognize him. How could you not.

You dont hear what the queen says, but when the king charges, you turn and run. Breaking through the line of wolves, tears streaming down your face as you run faster than you ever have in your life. You know the king. Youve seen him in the heat of battle. He'll kill you. And youd never be able to stop him.

Haunted By The Passed

Just when it seems like youre in the clear, some fresh hell descends upon this frog forsaken city. You’d bunkered down in the Church until the candy shit passed, but now something else is happening. You dont know what. Why cant there just be peace so you can finally rest. And why are none of your messages going through?! Fuck!!

Tentatively, you step out of the inexplicably empty church. What happened to everyone…This fog is probably the cause of…whatever exactly is going on. Unnatural, even for a city like this.

Its a slow amble back towards the hideout, though youre only half sure youve got the right way. Had to leave the car. Kids gone. All this spells disaster. In fact, all this creepy night is missing is some big fuck off monster lurking around the corner.

@rexscelestus

[crossyourhearts-blog]

As you walk, you slow, surroundings changing in every footfall. Were those buildings always so close? You grimace at the sound of flesh as you walk, rending with each step. Your shoes fill with blood, and finally you stop. It occurs to you that you havent hunted in days, and it sickens you that the smell of flesh and blood makes you hungry. No, not again...

And then, that noise. At fist it sounds like dogs growling, but you see just close enough in the fog, a battle worn figure.

"Battler?" You squint, taking a tentative step forward. It cant be... "AB, what are you doing here? You..." The beasts head jerks up, looking at you through the face of a friend long gone. Eyes open all along its body, all turning to look at you. Judging you. 'Traitor.' It growls at you and you stumble backwards, taking off in the opposite direction. Any direction. Just away from...whatever the hell you just saw.

Haunted By The Passed

Just when it seems like youre in the clear, some fresh hell descends upon this frog forsaken city. You’d bunkered down in the Church until the candy shit passed, but now something else is happening. You dont know what. Why cant there just be peace so you can finally rest. And why are none of your messages going through?! Fuck!!

Tentatively, you step out of the inexplicably empty church. What happened to everyone…This fog is probably the cause of…whatever exactly is going on. Unnatural, even for a city like this.

Its a slow amble back towards the hideout, though youre only half sure youve got the right way. Had to leave the car. Kids gone. All this spells disaster. In fact, all this creepy night is missing is some big fuck off monster lurking around the corner.

@rexscelestus

[crossyourhearts-blog]

Haunted By The Passed

Just when it seems like youre in the clear, some fresh hell descends upon this frog forsaken city. You'd bunkered down in the Church until the candy shit passed, but now something else is happening. You dont know what. Why cant there just be peace so you can finally rest. And why are none of your messages going through?! Fuck!!

Tentatively, you step out of the inexplicably empty church. What happened to everyone...This fog is probably the cause of...whatever exactly is going on. Unnatural, even for a city like this.

Its a slow amble back towards the hideout, though youre only half sure youve got the right way. Had to leave the car. Kids gone. All this spells disaster. In fact, all this creepy night is missing is some big fuck off monster lurking around the corner.

@rexscelestus