#and i had no idea that sycamore was going to get *that angry* when i first started writing

[lubdubsworld]

⋆⋆✵ Perfect Imperfections ✵⋆⋆

Chapter 1

Genre : Arranged Marriage AU! Angst! Explicit Sexual Content.

Rating : 21+

Warnings : Ableism , Chronic disability. OC has limited use of her left leg, Emotional infidelity? Mild Cheating ( nothing very physical.. a kiss or so )

Summary : Marrying Jungkook is a mistake. Falling in love with him? Definitely the worst exercise in masochism .

~~~~~~~~~~

Chapter 2

No one tells you how easy it is to imagine yourself in love with a beautiful man. Especially when you don’t have a clear understanding of what love actually is. 

When I met Jungkook, even knowing he was in love with my sister hadn’t done much to douse the flames of hope and attraction. He was a lot of things that other men in my life weren’t. Kind without being pitying. Concerned without being overbearing. He took care of me without making me feel helpless. And there was always such a thin line between these things that I found myself impressed by his ability to toe the line so well.

Jungkook took care of me without making me feel like a burden and I suppose, some part of me had assumed that this could, in due time turn into love. But I was clearly wrong.

Jungkook and Liza had been kissing in the hallway of their hotel room and someone had taken pictures. My father and his had managed to get them taken down but the news was already out, spreading like wildfire . My phone began ringing sometime around eight in the morning and hadn’t stopped. It was now a little past one in the afternoon and I felt queasy, despite the assurances that it was all being taken care of.

It was the pity in everyone’s face that I couldn’t bear.

I wasn’t hurt. Angry, yes? Upset? Of course. But I wasn’t hurt because there really was nothing to be hurt about. Jungkook didn’t love me. He was in love with my sister . He had made it clear, through his words and his actions, over and over again. At this point, I could see this debacle as nothing more than a possible way to get out of the marriage. Perhaps, my father would approve of a divorce?

I glanced at the article again.

The photo is just so annoyingly clear, I thought with a grimace. If it was a little blurry, I could convince myself it wasn’t him and her. But it was clear. That was my husband with his lips locked with my sister’s. Against my better judgment, I read the article again. It was a gossip column, of course there would be nothing good in there. But sometimes curiosity can be a persistent thing.

I felt my skin crawling as I realized that the phrases were all pretty true. There was no gossip here. Just plain facts.

And then my eyes reached the end of the article.

Of note is the fact that Jeon Jungkook’s wife is disabled and perhaps the virile young man is merely looking for pleasure he can’t find in his own marital bed.

I swallowed, quickly exiting the page and tossing the phone on the bed, away from me. I stared out of the window of our bedroom, the large doors left open to let air and sunlight in. There was a tall sycamore tree right outside out bedroom and the branches almost reached in and I stared at the rustling leaves, trying to scrub my mind clean of the words I’d just read.

But it was impossible.

It wasn’t something I hadn’t thought of. The stark difference between me and Jungkook, physically. He spent five days a week in the gym and they were right. He was a young man with healthy sexual appetites.

I’d never cheat on you. Jungkook’s voice from a week ago still echoed somewhere inside my skull.

I sighed, playing with my wedding ring.

I wasn’t a virgin when I married Jungkook. Hadn’t been one , when I got into the accident either. My then boyfriend, a tall strapping lit major had been a very sexual guy as well and our libidos had matched pretty well. But I’d been an athletic nineteen year old, able to bend like a pretzel at his whim and there was just endless time and endless stamina and just a whole lot of attraction . We had spent hours, exploring each other the way college kids do. Weekends in bed spent trying every possible permutation of sex positions and kinks and I’d discovered all the things I liked. All the things I didn’t.

But then the accident had happened and well, when you’re in crippling agony, sometimes sex takes the backseat. I’d been focused on my recovery, on making sure that I came out of this at least with the ability to walk and I’d succeeded. Burying the part of me that craved a man’s touch, it wasn’t easy but it was necessary.

And then Jungkook had happened.

Sex with Jungkook hadn’t been difficult. Not really. I wasn’t completely crippled after all but it was also nowhere near as exciting as it could be with someone who had full use of her legs. I knew that. It was kind of obvious. But I hadn’t dwelt too much on it because to be honest, Jungkook hadn’t looked like he’d minded. He had seemed to enjoy himself .

But then reading about how he probably hadn’t enjoyed it definitely stung.

Worse yet, probably half the country was reading it with me. I felt nauseous. Did no one think that they should have left the last part out of that article? It was terrible enough without adding that bit about me.

A faint buzzing made me turn to the bed.

I glanced at my phone as it rang, my father in law’s name prominent on the screen.

Showtime, I thought with a grimace.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I suppose it was too much to hope for , expecting that boy  to keep his dignity. This is outrageous.” Mr. Jeon’s loud voice rang through the foyer of the house and I flinched, gripping the edge of the futon as Sana jumped a bit . She sat next to me, holding my hand carefully. Moral support I supposed but I was feeling entirely too blasé about the whole thing. None of this was unexpected, I thought miserably and I wasn’t feeling up to pretending otherwise.

“I still wish they’d talked to me about this.”

My brother in law’s voice broke me out of my thoughts. The man looked like he’d been dragged through hell and back and I felt a pang of genuine sympathy. He looked wrecked and it was obvious she was in love with my sister. Resentment coiled thick and deep inside me. Resentment and envy.

With no effort at all she had charmed both the Jeon brothers, I thought bitterly.

Jeon Jihyun looked absolutely stricken at the thought of losing his wife.  

“I’ve asked Lisa to take the first flight out. She called me this morning, hysterical. It was something done in the heat of the moment. She .. She’s very apologetic. I believe her and I’m willing to forgive her. We’re…. We’re thinking of starting a family together. ” He said softly and my stomach turned.

I felt my skin go ice cold as I wrapped my arms around myself. Shivering just a bit, I lightly squeezed Sana’s hand. She looked at me in askance and I had to swallow to get my voice out, throat dry. The words made me want to retch. I could imagine how Jungkook would take this news.

“Can you get me my shawl? It’s in the green room.” I said hoarsely.  She bowed before moving away from me and when I looked back up, Jihyun’s gaze caught mine.

“This must be hard on you.” He said softly and I flushed, staring down at my knees.

“Not like I can run from it. Literally or figuratively.” I smiled without mirth.

“Jungkook is …he’s just confused. He needs some time to sort himself out. I’ve asked him to take a break and come back to Seoul after a couple of weeks. The separation would do him some good.” Jihyun said quietly and I sighed before nodding. What else was I supposed to say to that anyway? There wasn’t much I could do, my influence on things almost nonexistent at this point.

“Are you going to give the boy a break, Jeon?” My father demanded, staring at Jungkook’s father who sighed.

“Yes. I’ve been trying to get these damned reporters off our back. They’re all over the place. And yes, I think Jungkook should stay in Japan for a while.  We’re starting a new distribution branch there and I wanted him to scout places and possible vendors. I’ll tell him to hash out all the details before coming back.”

His phone rang again and he excused himself . I watched him leave the room, trying to make sense of his words.

How long would it take to build a whole branch in Japan? I had no clue. But it could hardly be done in a few weeks, could it?

“That’s.. That’s a long time.” I said hesitantly and my father frowned.

“is that a problem?” he asked.

I sighed. There was no point keeping this to myself. I was supposed to go to the doctor’s tomorrow. And well, it would be better if they heard it from me first.

“I.. I’m pregnant.” I said quietly.

The silence that followed was deafening. I stared at the carpet, not able to bring myself to look up at them. I could guess, what I’d find there. It was what I always found in people’s faces.

“Oh, sweet child.” My father’s sigh made me look up and there it was. The pity. I felt sick to my stomach. Sana returned, settling the hand knit shawl over my shoulders and I wrapped it tight, before glancing at her in some desperation. She smiled reassuringly, settling next to me and gently taking my fingers in hers. The warmth grounded me for a second and when Jihyun growled, I stared at him.

“I… I didn’t know. Fuck, I’m going to kill Jungkook. This fucker…” Jihyung swore and my father sighed, clearly thinking hard.

“you can’t be staying alone now.” He said softly, sitting up and cracking his knuckles, and I swallowed. I wouldn’t bear it if they tried to take me back home. I had hated it there.

“ You must come back home with me.” He said softly but I quickly shook my head.

“ No.. No I won’t. I … Please.” I begged, the mere idea of going back to my childhood home a nightmare. My mother would kill me with just her sharp and vindictive words. I was in no shape to put up with her verbal and emotional abuse. It was one of the things that had made me agree to marry Jungkook in the first place.

“Well, you can’t stay here by yourself.” My father protested. I’ve been by myself my whole damn life, I wanted to scream.

“I’ll be fine. I have Sana and the others to help me.” I said tiredly. My father shook his head before turning to Jihyun again.

“Is Namjoon still working on his book?” My father asked him and Jihyun frowned. The name elicited a tug in my memory and I turned to stare at my father, confused.

“You remember him? He used to tutor you when you were hi High School.”

I had a brief flashback to dimples and almond shaped eyes. I remembered him vaguely. Very vaguely. But nowhere well enough to want him to live with me, alone or not.  

“Dad…” I protested but he held a hand up to silence me, nodding at Jihyun .

“Namjoon? Kim Namjoon? ” He shook his head. “ I’m not sure. Why?”

“I think it would be good if he moves in here. His father was telling me that he was looking for a place to stay, now that he’s moved back to Korea. ” My father said softly, staring at me and I stiffened.

“Father…” I began desperately and my father shook his head.

“Don’t argue. He was a dear friend of yours. I don’t think you should be alone at a time like this. And I think Jungkook would approve. Like Jihyun said, the kid needs some space to sort himself out. Let him finish whatever business is going on in Japan.” My father glanced at Mr. Jeon who looked at me with guilt.

“I owe you an apology , on behalf of my idiot son.”

I looked away, not sure what to say to that. I hated the man quite passionately. Jungkook wasn’t perfect… far from it. But this man had taken a sledgehammer to my husband’s mind and heart at every turn. The disdain, the condescension, the sick way he favored his brother over him, the way nothing Jungkook did was ever good enough. It had all taken a toll on my husband. I had watched it chip away at Jungkook’s self confidence, at his mental health.

“I think more than anything, you owe an apology to your son. You knew he was in love with Lisa and yet…. You forced him to marry me.” I said quietly and the room went eerily quiet. My father rounded on me , eyes blazing.

“Leah!!! Apologize, now!” He roared and I looked away.

“You’re all the same. Ungrateful and entitled.” Mr. Jeon said sharply, before turning to his son. “ I’m leaving Jihyun-ah. Tell me when that wife of yours get home. I want to talk to her.”

He shared a half hug with my father before stalking off and my father grabbed his jacket as well.

“I’ll leave as well. Your mother is being quite hysterical. Apparently, all her friends are hounding her about the article.” He sighed and I nodded , watching him shrug on the jacket before nodding at Jihyun and then following his friend out to the front doors.

Jihyun stayed standing , watching my father’s form disappear through the door before turning to me.

“ Are you alright?” He said quietly, moving to kneel in front of me. Sana stood up, bowing before leaving and I watched her disappear into the hallway leading to the kitchens. Jihyun’s fingers wrapped around mine, brushing my knees and I stared down at him.

“The question is, are you alright?” I brushed the hair off his face. He sighed.

“No. No I’m not. I’m angry and jealous and very much filled with resentment towards my brother.” He said honestly and I laughed, tugging on his hand and patting the seat next to me. He straightened before moving to settle next to me and I leaned on his shoulders, sighing as he wrapped on around me, the warmth of his body comforting .

“Are you going to give your marriage a chance?” I asked carefully.

“She told me she was going to break things off for good. We.. We’ve been talking about it. Starting a family, making this work.” He said quietly. I nodded. It was understandable. Unlike Jungkook and I , Jihyun had a responsibility. He would need a son and even though people liked to act like they didn’t care much about gender, like they didn’t care much about having children , it was sort of an unspoken rule. First son of the house ? You had to have a male heir to carry the family name.

I wondered how that conversation had gone between Jungkook and Lisa. It didn’t really match the photo I’d seen.

“I suppose Jungkook probably put up a fight. He genuinely wants to end up with her. He… He tells me often that he loves her and can’t love anyone else. ” I wondered if I ought to feel embarrassed or insulted.

But the truth was, I was numb to a lot of things that had once hurt quite a lot..

The conversation with Jungkook about my pregnancy had definitely cleared things up for me. There was nothing there worth salvaging. Chasing something that wasn’t real , that was foolishness. Especially when I had a very real baby to think about. A child that counted on me to make the right choices.

“I don’t think he did. She spoke to me last night and said that he agreed. Of course that was before the article came out. I’d like to think she didn’t lie to me but I’m not sure.”

I sighed, settling in closer to his chest. He was warm and firm, solid and reliable. I wondered if it would have been easier, if my father had just married me off to Jihyun instead. Jihyun and I …we were alike. We had been friends , even from childhood. Had watched with fond adoration as our younger siblings had fallen madly, wildly in love. Jungkook and Liza had been drawn to each other from the first. Inevitable.

Jihyun and I were more carefree. We didn’t feel things that intensely and perhaps that was why we could sit here in the calm of the afternoon air, quiet and introspective when we ought to be furious and raging.

“ Should we run off together? You and i?” He said suddenly making me laugh.

“Very much incapable of running.” I reminded him with a grin and he squeezed my shoulder .

“I’d carry you.” He said simply.

“Where would we go?” I asked curiously, indulging the fantasy for just a few minutes.

“Somewhere far away. Maybe India? There’s so many people there and we could get lost in the crowds.”

“That does sound appealing.” I smiled and turned to look up at him. His face inches from mine, not as handsome as Jungkook but strong featured and kind. “ But I’m not alone anymore. I have a child.”

His gaze dipped to my lap.

“Yes. Jungkook’s child.” He said thoughtfully.

“No. Mine. Nobody else’s . Just mine.” I said quietly. Jihyun’s gaze softened. He pressed a quick kiss to the top of my head.

“I’m sorry.” He whispered, echoing his father’s words.” On behalf of my idiot brother, I’m sorry.”

And where Mr. Jeon’s words hadn’t made any sort of impact, Jihyun’s made my heart clench and ache in the worst way. Self pity was something I loathed but sometimes, being handed the short end of the stick at every turn in life makes it impossible to not feel sorry for yourself.

Tears stung, welling up in my eyes and spilling over my lashes like water bubbling out of an aquifer.

I blinked slowly, not bothering to wipe them as they traced a path down my face, dripping into the fabric of my shawl. In a moment of clarity I wondered what Jungkook must be going through now. Nothing good for sure.

It definitely said something, that I still worried for him. Sighing, I let Jihyun hug me closer. I would take advantage of his kindness for a few more minutes. It had been a while since someone had held me like I mattered.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I called Jungkook that evening.

It wasn’t an easy choice but my heart ached and my mind raced with unanswered questions. I didn’t want to get lost in my own thoughts so I didn’t overthink it. We were still married. I was allowed to call him.

He picked up on the third ring.

“Where are you?” I asked quietly and Jungkook’s groan made my face heat up a little.

“I… Leah?” He sounded groggy. I glanced at the time. It wasn’t late.

“Are you sleeping?”

He didn’t reply for a few minutes.

“I’m sorry about what happened. We.. We didn’t do anything else. It was just.. it was a kiss. Just that.”

“Are you still in the hotel?” I asked quietly ignoring his words.

“ For tonight, yes. Dad wants me to stay with a friend of his. I’ll be going over to their place tomorrow morning.” He replied .

Silence followed for a few seconds.

“Namjoon is moving in tomorrow.” I said stiffly.

Jungkook didn’t respond for a minute or so.

“Yes. Father said it’s a good idea. And I agree. You shouldn’t be alone while I’m here. He’s right. Hyung’s a nice guy. He’ll help you out.” Jungkook said softly.

“Liza came home. She wanted to talk to me.” I said quietly.

Jungkook didn’t reply and I sighed.

“I told her I wasn’t going to talk to her before I talked to you. I don’t… I don’t want to say anything to her that I haven’t already said before. But I still want to know your thoughts on all this. Your plans, that is. I take it you weren’t happy with her ending things.” I said stiltedly.

Jungkook didn’t reply for a few seconds.

“Things between us ended a long time ago, Leah. It was over when we both agreed to marry other people. Maybe even before that, I don’t know… I … I guess I just didn’t want to acknowledge them.” He said quietly. “ She’s different, now. Even that kiss felt so wrong.  She’s moving on. I’m glad in a way. She deserves better than me. She deserves someone like hyung. He’s better than me in everyway and-”

God I wanted to strangle him.

“So why did you kiss her?” I snapped. “ If you’re so generously letting her go why would you…” I stopped.

“I didn’t kiss her. She kissed me. It was barely for a second.” He muttered. “ whoever it was must’ve been videoing us for a while.”

I had to remind myself that in the grand scheme of things, this little detail made no difference.

“Right.” I sighed. “ So, you won’t be home for a while?”

“Six weeks at least.” He said quietly.

I tried to keep the disappointment down. I still wanted to see him, just to make sure he was okay. But I knew that was just the pregnancy hormones talking.

“Okay.” I said simply.

“How are you? Did you go see the doctor?” He asked softly and the question surprised me. I was half sure he had forgotten.

“No, not yet. Maybe in a couple of days.” I scratched at a small stain on my skirt. Lime juice and baking soda, I thought absently. That should get the stain out.  

“Its pretty late. You should go see the doctor, Leah. I.. I looked stuff up. They say you have to be on pre natal vitamins, folic acid and iron supplements  and you have to have  a balanced diet. I called Sana earlier and told her to speak to our doctor and get a diet chart for you. She said she’ll do it soon. So , please take care of yourself.”

Jungkook sounded entirely serious and as always my brain felt muddled, unable to process why he did the things he did. He had looked things up about the pregnancy and that implied some sort of interest, didn’t it? But ….. he had also kissed my sister so what was I supposed to do with this?

“I’ll call you.” I said shakily, drained. I was done for the day.

“Right.” He said softly. “ Namjoon hyung will be there tomorrow right? Should I talk to him? He could take you to the doctor.”

“No.. That’s fine. I’ll manage.” I said quickly.

“You’re sure?” There was genuine worry there.

“Yes.” I sighed.

“Alright.”

Silence again. I exhaled shakily.

“Should I hang up?” I asked quietly.

“Yeah. Good night. ” He breathed.

“Good night, Jungkook.”

Click.

I stared at the wall, gently lowering the phone and placing it on the bed next to me.

She deserves better than me, his voice echoed in my head.

Well, so did I.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Namjoon looked nothing like the twenty one year old college student I’d seen a decade ago. I knew he was a successful novelist and I’d read all his books. They were mostly philosophical or commentaries on life and emotions. I enjoyed the way he wrote : melancholic and deep but also clear and easy to understand. It was like staring at a particularly deep pool, being able to see all the way down to the bottom because of how clean the waters were. But once you put your feet in, the depth  always surprised you.

“That’s a lot of books.” I laughed, gripping the edge of the door frame as I watched him stumble under the weight of a crate full of bound books. Namjoon’s messy brown hair peeked over the top, and when he adjusted the huge load to stare at me, I caught sight of his handsome face stretched in a dimpled grin, eyes glinting.

“Research.” He grunted, straightening himself up and I watched the flex of his muscles as he carefully moved to place the crate down in one corner of the large bedroom that I’d had cleaned for him. It was on the west wing of the house, parallel to my own bedroom that I shared with Jungkook . Namjoon had spent three years working as a professor somewhere in Indonesia. And I knew that he’d spent a year backpacking all over Scandinavia. I stared at his tall strapping figure, watching him set up his writing space carefully, sorting out boxes and electronics.

He had driven here in his Range Rover and I knew all his clothes were still there in the back of the car.

“Should I ask the footmen to get your clothes?” I asked and he glanced up at me, frowning.

“Footmen?” He looked confused and I rolled my eyes.

“Namjoon…” I said chidingly and he grinned again.

“I keep forgetting you’re filthy rich. Makes me wish I should have beaten Jungkook to the game and bagged myself a rich wife.” He winked. It was a joke but there was no mistaking the hint of interest in his eye. Or maybe it was just wishful thinking on my part. Being married to Jungkook had definitely made me question the attraction I held for men so it felt good, having someone as handsome and whole and successful as Namjoon look at me like that.

“I’ll ask them to get your clothes. You should shower and settle in. We’ll meet for dinner tonight.” I said quickly and he nodded.

“You’re going to be okay heading back to your room? Let me know if you need help.” He pointed at my feet and I nodded. It was sweet of him to offer.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dinner was surprisingly not awkward at all. Namjoon had a lot of interesting stories to share and I found myself clinging to ever word in rapt attention. He spoke about all the folklore he’d run into in different places, how he thought that no matter the culture, there were always some common things you could find in every one of them. He also talked a little about his next book, which he hadn’t named yet.

“It’s about second chances. Forgiving and moving on.” He said, taking another bite of his braised pork and moving to make another lettuce wrap.

“ Heavy stuff.” I said thoughtfully. “ Most of my writing is commercial. I just try to sell stuff to reluctant people. It’s not much but it keeps me occupied and it’s always nice to make money that you can call your own.”

“It’s because you don’t write for yourself. When you start writing for yourself, you can truly be who you are.” He said firmly and I nodded in agreement.

My writing in college had been vivid and bright and filled with life. But after the accident, it had turned grey and gloomy. The words seemed to drip with loss and longing and  I didn’t enjoy it, because it was a reminder that I was no longer the vibrant, attractive fulsome girl I once was.

“Maybe that’s what I’m afraid of.” I smiled. “ Being who I am. I would rather pretend I’m at least a little alright.”

Namjoon stared at me, thoughtful.

“You used to run track.” He said softly and I grinned.

“You remember.” I said, pleased.

“Of course I do and you were captain of the volleyball team as well. You used to organize all those hikes and treks and stuff.”

“Yes I did. I loved the outdoors.” I stared out of the window.

“Loved? Past tense?” He tilted his head. I stared at him, shaking my head.

“What kind of question is that.” I shook my head. “ Look at me. I’m not trekking anytime soon, considering how the last time ended.”

“You can still go out.” He frowned. “ When was the last time you went somewhere?”

I shook my head.

“Oppa…”

“Listen. You know me. You’ve known me for more than a decade. Do you honestly think I’m going to let you rattle around this old house like a ghost when you should be out there taking in all the sunshine you can get?” Namjoon placed his chopsticks down and linked his fingers together, staring at me.

I stared at him, and it was definitely there. The concern, the affection. Not that different from when I was sixteen and struggling to understand what pathos meant.

But now there was a definite undercurrent of attraction. Back then it had been childish, the wild crush of a teenager on her hot tutor but now, now I knew that he was so much more than just a hot guy.

“I’m pregnant.” I said softly, more a reminder to myself than anything else.

Namjoon grinned.

“We’ll steer clear of horse riding and alcohol. Anything else you can just let me know.”

“Are you serious?”

“As a heart attack.”

“I think I’m getting one now.” I deadpanned.

“Because you’re nervous.” He grinned.

“Because your dimples look too adorable.” I retorted.

He laughed.

“I’ll talk to Jihyun and we’ll go see your doctor first. Then we’ll go out and have  a nice picnic.”

“Namjoon, I can’t…”

“You don’t know that.” He said firmly.” You don’t know if you can or can’t because you’ve never tried. Listen I love picnics and I love going out and I want company. I’m agreeing to be stuck with you for a while and the least you can do is  give me company at a picnic. You know how big a loser I’d seem like if I went by myself?”

It was like I was sixteen again getting brow beaten into things by a tutor who just hated the idea of not getting his way. I shook my head fondly.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Fourteen weeks. Three and a half months.

I stared at the ultrasound, feeling a multitude of things, not all of them good. The baby was growing well and I had all my prescriptions filled. Namjoon had offered to come with me but I had refused. It was too intimate and he was still a stranger. I did take a photo of the ultrasound and sent it to Jungkook.

/Jungkook called me back almost at once.

“You went to the doctor?” He asked, sounding a little breathless.

“Were you running?” I asked, surprised.

“Not really. I’m supposed to be meeting one of the vendors for lunch and I thought I could walk to the restaurant but its farther than I thought.” He huffed.

“Everything’s fine. Baby’s due in July.” I said quietly.

“Summer. That’s good.” He replied. “Right?”

I hesitated. What did that mean? What did it matter when the baby would be born?

“Because winter would mean it being too cold . Summer we can take the baby out and stuff without worrying too much.” Jungkook said softly.

Oh.

“How’s work?” I asked awkwardly. The non conversation was getting tedious. There was just so much to talk about and it was obvious that both of us weren’t in the mood to actually ask or answer anything worthwhile.

“Did dad say something?” Jungkook asked quickly and I frowned.

“No. Why?”

“He wants me to join hyung in the corporate office. Leave the smelter units.” Jungkook sounded subdued and upset and I felt sympathy well inside me.

“Join him? As what?” I asked quietly.

“Head of the marketing department. I’ll be reporting to Seokjin hyung.” Jungkook had clearly started walking again, breath coming in little exhales.

“You don’t want it?” I asked confused, not sure if this was a good or bad thing.

“I mean… I have a degree in Business and Finance. Hyung’s the CEO , I was hoping I’d be the CFO.” Jungkook sighed, “ But I suppose I should be grateful he didn’t disown me altogether after what happened earlier.”

I stayed quiet and so did he.

“We need to talk . When you get back. You … I know you don’t like sharing about what you feel but you owe me an explanation.” I said firmly.

“I know. But I meant what I said when I left. I’m going to be there for you and the baby. You’re still my wife. That’s not going to change.”

I ran my fingers over the ultrasound.

“Did you also mean the part where you said you can’t stand me.” I said bitterly .

Jungkook didn’t reply.

“I… You know I didn’t. That was just something I said on impulse. I’m sorry. You’re… You’ve been nothing but good to me. And honestly, just the fact that you’re carrying my child is proof that I can definitely stand you.” He sounded just a little hoarse.

I bit my lips, staring up at the door when I heard a knock.

“Leah? I’m going to have some tea in the garden … You wanna come with?” Namjoon’s voice rang through the room and I froze.

“Oh.. Oh.. yes. I’ll be down.” I said quickly, nodding . Namjoon pointed at the phone and gave to thumbs up before moving back out.

“Was that Namjoon hyung?” Jungkook’s voice came over the line.

“Oh… yeah. Yeah, he’s… he wants me to have tea with him in the gardens.” I said awkwardly.

“That’s nice.  You should go. Get out of the house once in a while.” I didn’t know what to say to that so I stayed quiet.

After another minute or so of silence, Jungkook cleared his throat.

“ I got that form you sent in for me to fill, about my medical history. I’ll fill it up and mail it to the doctor’s office. Is that alright?” He asked hesitantly. “ If not I can fly back home. If they need me in person or something.”

I frowned a bit.

“They don’t need you in person, Jungkook of course not. Mail it, that’s fine.”

Another pause.

“This is really happening huh? A baby. We’re having a baby.” The exhaustion in his voice was palpable and I wondered.

“Yes. We are.” I said simply, not having anything else to elaborate on. It was happening. I was torn between pleasure at having something to look forward to and guilt at forcing Jungkook into a role he wasn’t ready for. But , for better or for worse we were married. The child was his. It would be a Jeon.

“ I’ll do better.” He said quietly. “ With the little one. I’ll be better.”

Tears these days, sprung up out of nowhere I thought miserably, furiously swiping at my face.

“Leah?” His voice came over the line. “ Leah are you there?”

“I need to go.”

“Alright.”

“Take care of yourself too, Jungkook.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Loneliness .

It’s such an odd sort of feeling. Sometimes you get used to it so much, that you forget all about it.

It stays , a part of you that doesn’t make much of an impression on you until one day, suddenly it becomes unbearable,

Until you get a glimpse of what it’s like to not be lonely.

And then suddenly it’s like a deep chasm of longing and desperation just opens up inside you, craving love and warmth and company with a hunger that feels like it can never ever be satisfied.

I’d never paid much mind to the fact that my life revolved around myself, my writing and the flowers in the garden. Not until Namjoon had come, demanding to be felt and seen and heard .

 Namjoon hadn’t joked about not letting me rattle around the house. Our days were spent sprawled on the lawns of the Jeon estate, each of us occupied with our own writing . Namjoon typed away on his laptop while I preferred my leather bound notebook. It was oddly soothing, lying there on the clean cut grass, the sharp blades rubbing against my bare legs, as I leaned back against a tree trunk, watching Namjoon’s furrowed brows as he wrote.

Namjoon had changed in a lot of ways and yet he was still somehow just as I remembered, focused and often lost in his own head. He was a contemplative man and seemed to spend as much time reading as he did writing.

“There’s a poetry club that meets every Tuesday in Gangnam. Would you like to come with me?” He asked casually, about a week after he’d moved in and I considered it. The paparazzi had finally stopped hanging about the estate and Jungkook had called the previous night with a ETA for when he would be back.

Four weeks at most, he had said firmly and I wasn’t sure if I was feeling all that excited for his return anymore. Days spent with Namjoon were more exciting. He included me in every little thing and I was addicted.

Somewhere in the back of my mind, I knew this was probably wrong. Namjoon was sweet and kind but I was still married. But on the wake of that thought came the bitter reminder that there was nothing between Jungkook and I. He was in love with someone else. Why should I deny myself the joy of Namjoon’s company over a relationship that really wasn’t a relationship at all.

Namjoon treated me as an equal, teased and flirted like there was nothing wrong with the two of us living like this, together and away from the rest of the world and I liked it. It made me feel like perhaps happiness wasn’t such an abstract, unreachable thing after all. That perhaps I could find happiness like this. In friendship and mindless conversation with a man who didn’t see me as a burden.

“I’d love that.” I said with a smile, letting my fingers knit together with his.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Scorned wife getting even? We spotted the recently cheated on Mrs Jeon getting cozy with a strapping, buff hottie in a private restaurant last Friday and we can’t help but wonder if perhaps the reclusive lady is trying to get back at her husband by flashing her own boytoy.” Namjoon read cheerfully from his phone, looking way too entertained as he showed me the zoomed photo of us holding hands over the dinner table .

“That’s quite the description they’ve put for you.” I grimaced, sipping my chamomile tea slowly. My father and Mr. Jeon had reacted with their usual anger, threatening to sue the gossip rag for libel but it was pointless. They would keep being intrusive rats. There was nothing much to be done beyond enduring them.

“My agent’s losing his mind. He’s been at me trying to get me to agree to book signings and public appearances and he’s pissed that this is the way I get introduced to Seoul’s High society. Poor guy.” Namjoon chuckled and I felt guilt churn.

“I’m sorry, Namjoon. I really didn’t think they’d be following me. I mean… usually they’re only tailing Jungkook but I guess with the whole thing with Lisa , they’re just looking for ways to make things worse.” I said hesitantly.

Namjoon hesitated, staring at me for a few seconds.

“We never really talked about how things are.” He said quietly. “ Between you and Jungkook, that is.”

I ran the edge of my chopsticks on the brim of my soup bowl.

“ There’s not much to say. He’s…. He’s still sorting things out. With my sister.” I smiled a little. It ached a lot less, I realized with surprise.

“They loved each other deeply.” Namjoon said softly. “ that sort of thing doesn’t go away that quickly.”

I nodded.

“Of course. And I’ve been …understanding of that. I like to think.”

“But its unfair to you. You deserve to be loved too. Fully and well .”

I leaned back to stare at him.

“Are you offering?” I laughed, teasing.

Namjoon didn’t smile, leaning forward instead.

“Depends. Will you ever consider leaving him, for me?” He said seriously.

My heart turned over inside me.

“Namjoon…” I choked out and he reached out and lightly touched my palm.

“I know how marriages work with people like you, so I think I should draw boundaries now, if I want to keep myself safe.” He smiled a bit.

“I’m pregnant. With his child.” I swallowed and Namjoon’s brows went up.

“I thought it was your child. Yours and no one else’s.”

I felt torn, staring at him and wanting to say that I didn’t consider Jungkook as the child’s father, not in the way most people did. But I also remembered my husbands determined voice, the way he kept insisting that he wouldn’t neglect the child.

“Its not about Jungkook or the child, Leah. Its about you. You married Jungkook knowing he was in love with your sister and that tells me that you listen to your parents. You don’t want to stand up against the rules set by our parents and I don’t fault you for it. But I can’t let myself fall for you, knowing you’re going to be bound by your obligations to yurr family.”

I shook my head.

“Don’t fall in love with me.” I said easily. “ You’re right. My family comes first. And whether I want to be or not, I’m bound to Jungkook for life. So don’t fall in love with me.”

He smiled and nodded.

“Alright then.”

“Do you want to move out?” I asked bitterly and he looked genuinely surprised.

“What?”

“You clearly think I’m trying to seduce you or something when really, I-“

“Hey. Hey, Leah…no. No alright, that’s not what I meant. These two weeks, it was amazing. I love your mind and you’re easily one of my favorite people on this planet. We’re friends. And we’ll stay friends no matter what but you must know why I said what I said. You’re a beautiful woman and I’m a lonely guy.” He smiled a bit, “ I just don’t want to make it hard for myself when you want me to leave.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jungkook arrived back in Korea on a cold, rainy morning and against my better judgment I let Jihyun and Lisa drag me to the airport. It was some kind of publicity stunt, that much I could fathom but I didn’t know if Jungkook was in on it. I hadn’t spoken to him in a few days, he had been busy wrapping things up with the new branch in Japan.

It was another bad day for my leg and I found myself leaning heavily on my sister, her arm wrapped around my waist as we walked over to the waiting area. I could already identify a few men with cameras staring at us discreetly. Paparazzi . I saw them move their cameras down to the now obvious curve of my stomach and I swallowed. I could already imagine the articles wondering who the father was : Jungkook or Namjoon.

“You alright?” My sister asked worriedly and I nodded, not looking at her. Lisa hadn’t been discouraged by initial refusal to speak to her, keeping at it till I finally caved and let her visit me at the estate. She didn’t love Jungkook anymore, she insisted . It was over. They were over . She wanted to give her marriage a chance. Very sweet and nice, that. And it was obvious that she wasn’t lying, what with the way she and her husband kept

Jihyun and Lisa had made amends with each other and it annoyed me that they seemed to be madly in love with each other all of a sudden. Like the past couple months hadn’t even happened. I stared down at my wedding ring feeling stricken. Was it unfair that I resented them for this? Why hadn’t the two of them thought of this, of breaking things off and moving on before the damn wedding. And then maybe Jungkook and I would have had a real marriage too.

Bitter and hormonal was definitely not a good combination I thought with a wince, fingers splaying on the curve of my lower belly. It was so odd, being pregnant. The extra weight somehow foreign but also …so soothing. The last scan had shown that I had an anterior placenta and that meant that I may not feel movements for a while. I didn’t mind, having found comfort in just tracing my palm over the bare skin of my stomach.

“There he is.” Jihyun’s voice made me look up and ure enough there he was.

It wasn’t the longest we’d been away from each other and yet, I felt my heart leap at the sight of him. He truly was a very handsome man, I thought miserably. And no matter what people said, it was infinitely more difficult to hate your husband when he looked that good.

Jungkook’s eyes caught mine first and I saw the way his gaze dipped straight to the curve of my bump. Even from the ten feet between us , I saw hi lips part in surprise , eyes going wide. It probably hadn’t felt real to him till now, I thought biting my lips as he carefully handed his bags over to the two chauffeurs who had rushed to help him.

Jihyun wasted no time in bounding over and hugging his little brother tight.

I glanced at the man who had been taking photos, pleased to see the surprise in his face. Was he hoping that the CEO would punch his little brother in the face ? Idiots. Lisa stayed by my side and I exhaled shakily.

“ Dad told me something and I want to know if its true.” I said quietly.

She didn’t reply.

I took a deep breath, still watching the two brothers embrace each other, Jungkook’s face buried in Jihyun’s shoulders. I could see him shaking just a little and I felt my gut clench.

“He told me that …that you never told him that you wanted to marry Jungkook. That when he suggested Jihyun you agreed at once.”

She looked away.

“Lets talk about this later.” She said quietly.

“Does Jungkook know?” I demanded. “ Because he spent that first month of our marriage cursing our father out for forcing you to marry Jihyun. Forcing. And dad says that he did no such thing. So what is the truth.”

Lisa didn’t respond.

“Jungkook  knows.” She said finally, “ I told him… the truth. When we were in Japan.” and I laughed in disbelief.

“Was that before or after you kissed him?” I snapped and she looked genuinely pained.

“Leah, I never meant to hurt you or Jungkook.” She said shakily.

“My God.” I shook my head. “ I always knew you were a selfish, greedy person but I didn’t take you for being a liar and a deceitful coward. ”

She stared down at her feet.

“Yes. I’m greedy..”  She whispered “ And you may not understand it now but I did it for you and for Jungkook.”

She moved away and I watched as Jihyun pulled away from Jungkook, still holding his arm as he held a hand out to Lisa. The smile on her face seemed genuine as she took her husband’s hand and I shifted my gaze to mine. Jihyun and Lisa walked away to their car and Jungkook stepped closer to me, his face stoic and impossible to read.  

“Leah.” He said quietly, dark hair falling into even darker eyes.

I didn’t reply, merely stepping up to gently press my palms on either side of his face.

“Welcome back.” I said softly, before reaching up and kissing him full on the lips. Jungkook’s entire body went stiff as a board at the gesture but he didn’t pull away , thankfully. It felt cold and impersonal and barely lasted a few seconds but hopefully the man had gotten a few good shots. I closed my eyes for effect, running my thumb over the clean shaven curve of his jaw, before pulling away slowly.

I peered over Jungkook’s shoulder, just to make sure and sure enough, the man was moving closer to get better angles. I smiled a little. Good. That should hold these vultures off for a while. I turned back to Jungkook and his eyes followed my gaze catching sight of the man with the camera and his entire body seemed to go stiff with anger.

“Why did you do that?” He growled and I bit my lips.

“You know why.” I made to turn away but he gripped my arm, hard. So hard that I winced.

“What are you doing?” I asked panicking, glancing at the man who was still watching.

“Since when did you start pandering to those pigs?” He whispered angrily and I flinched.

“Your father wants to introduce you to the Board of directors this weekend.” I whispered quietly, “Most of them read the news Jungkook. The last news about us can’t be about you cheating on me.”

“That’s my business. And I’ll deal with it. We’re not doing this, Leah. I’m not putting on some kind of act just to please my fucking father.” He looked furious and the taut line of his jaw made me flinch.

“I’m sorry.” I said quickly, guilt churning inside me. He was right. I shouldn’t have done that without talking to him about it but I knew that the scandal with him and Lisa wouldn’t go down well with the Board. And the Board generally had a direct say on who got hired to top managerial positions.

“I just want you to get that job.” I said softly and he stared at me, stiff body relaxing marginally.

“Let’s just go home. Yeah?” Jungkook said tiredly and I bit my lips.

Less than fifteen minutes since he came home and we were already at odds with each other.

The most ill suited couple in the universe, I thought with a grimace as he stepped right next to me and wrapped a hand around my waist.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I had a very terrible tendency to forget taking my pills. So I generally left them by the bedside table. Stepping out of the shower, I found Jungkook sitting on my side of the bed, examining the bottle carefully. I tugged on the white t shirt I had on, suddenly embarrassed because it was Jungkook’s

I’d asked to borrow a couple over the phone,  simply because I no longer fit into my own and the ones I’d ordered weren’t here yet. Jungkook had agreed but still, it felt awkward when he was wearing the exact same t shirt himself.

He turned around when I moved to the vanity to put on moisturizer for the night and through the reflection I saw his gaze linger on my attire.

“Aspirin? Didn’t know that was part of pre natal vitamins?” He said seriously and I blinked., surprised. I turned around to stare at him, licking my lips nervously.

“How much research did you do?” I asked, genuinely curious and he flushed.

“I had a lot of free time. “ He said defensively. “ These six weeks.”

I frowned, before turning back to grab the small pot of night cream from the draw.

“My blood pressure is a little elevated. My mother had pre eclampsia with my sister and they just want to be careful.”

“Pre eclampsia?” Jungkook’s voice was fraught with nervousness and I turned back to see him almost white as a sheet.

“Jungkook…I.. its nothing serious.” I said hastily and his jaw went even more taut.

“What do you mean its not serious? Do you even know what it is?” He demanded.

“Do you?” I snapped back, annoyed at being treated like I was an errant child.

“I know that it’s the leading cause of maternal death during birth.” He all but shouted and I flinched.

“Okay…that’s only in extreme cases.” I held both my hands up. “ it’s a bit too premature to be panicking over that.”

Jungkook opened his mouth, as though to argue but then seemed to calm himself down.

“When’s your next check up?” He asked casually.

“This weekend. But its okay, Namjoon is-“

“I’ll come with you. I.. I want to come with you.” He said quietly.

I stared at him, feeling too awkward to outright refuse.

“You have the meeting with the Board. This weekend.” I said softly.

“So?” Jungkook shrugged. “ I’ll just tell them your appointment and health is more important to me. Besides isn’t that what you wanted? The reason you kissed me at the airport? You want the board to think we’re happily in love. I think that would be an excellent way to show them that. ”

Jungkook stared at me , head tilted curiously, daring me to deny what I had old him myself.

Sighing, I nodded.

“Alright.” I managed a weak smile. “ You can come with me.”

“Namjoon hyung left today, you said?” He asked casually.

I nodded.

“I should send him a bottle of his favorite wine for taking care of you so well. You look good.”

“He did it because he wanted to. Because he enjoyed it.” I retorted, his words rubbing me just a little wrong.

Jungkook smiled although it was more of a smirk.

“I’m sure he did. But I’m here now. And I did promise you that I’ll be there for you.”

“For the baby.” I said sharply, not liking the way he looked. The things he seemed to b implying.” You promised me you’d be there for the baby.”

“And right now, said baby is inside you.” He grinned now and I felt my pulse quicken at the sight. Jungkook didn’t smile with me. It wasn’t something that happened. At all. “ So I’ll have to take care of you.”

I stared at him, biting my lips.

“What are you doing?” I demanded. “My sister told you she never wanted you so now you want to start fucking me again?”

It was cruel. A terrible thing to say and I regretted it at once.

The smile faded.

“What?”

“ I…fuck Jungkook.” I groaned.

“is that what you think of me? Need I remind you that you were the one who came to me all those months ago? I never…. I would never force myself on you, Leah.” He looked like he’d been stabbed and I heart clenched.

“Jungkook , I…”

“I’ve been honest. Through all of this I’ve been honest to you. I lied to your sister, I lied to my father and fuck I even lied to myself. But I’ve been honest with you , Leah.”

“And that’s supposed to make me feel better?!” I cried out, despairing. “ You were in love with my sister and –“

“And she wanted to marry my brother.” Jungkook yelled, standing up and turning to me, eyes blazing. “  All along. Know what she told me Leah? That it was never supposed to be me. That five years of us being together…it was because she was in love with my brother and she couldn’t bear the thought of being alone. She started dating me to make him jealous and when she saw that I spent so much time with Jihyun she stuck around . So she could spend time with him.” He shook his head.

I stared at him, horrified.

“Jungkook….”

“I thought I could never feel more pathetic than when I stood there listening her tel me how she never felt a single thing for me. But wow…. Thank you for proving me wrong. Because right now, standing here begging you to let me a part of the child we both made knowing you only see me as some kind of pervert just looking to get into your bed….” he shook his head,” I feel worse. I feel dirty.”

My throat went dry.

“You know what?” He moved to the closet and to my horror he grabbed a bunch of his clothes and a small suitcase. “ I’m going to go get a Hotel room.”

“What? No… Jungkook, wait!” I rushed to his side, grabbing his arm but he threw my hand off quickly.

“Ask Namjoon hyung to move back in. Better yet, tell dad the truth. That you think I’m disgusting. That the thought of me being in your life makes you sick. Tell him you want a divorce and-“

“It’s a girl.” I exhaled sharply.

Jungkook went completely still.

I swallowed, my heart racing so fast I couldn’t catch my breath.

I took a deep breath and moved to lightly touch his back, fingers splaying on the broad expanse of his shoulder blade .

He turned around at that and my heart lurched at the tear tracks down his cheeks. He looked wrecked.

“ A girl?” He whispered.

I bit my lips, nodding.

“We’re having a little girl.” He looked a little shell shocked.

“Yes. And hopefully, she isn’t as dramatic as her father.” I said softly, grabbing the dozen or so t shirts he’d pulled out of the closet and pushing them back into the shelves.

Jungkook didn’t protest, still staring into space, probably just taking the news in. I felt awful for one second because I hadn’t even cared all that much when the technician had told me.

I closed the closet door and moved back to the vanity trying to process all that had been said in the last five minutes, only to feel a headache come on. I would think about it tomorrow.

I finished braiding my hair when Jungkook’s voice came from the bed.

“If you don’t want me to intrude into your space you can tell me. I’m okay with only getting information about the baby.” He said quietly.

I stared at myself in the mirror.

I turned to him slowly. i took a deep breath, considered that what i was going to say would likely change everything between us. But i had to. 

I’ve always been honest with you Leah, He had said and I decided that perhaps he deserved some honesty in return.

“I think I’m in love with Namjoon.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Author’s Note : these two are such a mess istg. 

ooh i don’t have a taglist for this so please comment if you wanna be on it. 

[renaissanceduroi-archive]

drabble ; deserving

Hi I accidentally wrote a 5 page drabble(?) where Elysia meets Lysandre for the first time after seeking him out when he doesn’t attend Sycamore’s funeral. It’s relatively sparse and unedited because I am tired and did not intend for this to happen, but I am excited by it nonetheless so here it is: 

---

“You’re weak.” What a way to introduce herself. She should be shocked, or afraid, or heartbroken, but Elysia is angry. It doesn’t matter that a dead man is breathing before her; it only matters what he has done. 

Despite her rancid tone, Elysia gently lets the honchkrow out of its ball, as the poor thing is not responsible for the deeds of its master. It looks so frail. Old. Like Sycamore, but without that undying glint of hope in his eye. What would Lysandre do, without the bird? Would he care enough to check in on her? Or would it have been a relief to him, to not be able to know about her or Sycamore anymore?

“I have always wanted to see what you look like,” is all that Lysandre has to say for himself. He looks rather comfortable, sitting on the ground, himself looking quite frail, but not a day over forty, despite how many years it has been. 

“Shut UP!” Her voice is a screech. They are so isolated, it hardly matters -- and if they are overheard, being found out is what this pathetic excuse for a man deserves. “You have no idea how much you hurt the professor. He hurt, for you. Every. Single. Day. Every single day. You get to run away and disappear, he is left to wonder. Worry himself sick. It’s selfish. It’s disgusting of you.” 

“I knew our royal genes were strong, but you are nearly the spitting image of your grandfather. Though much prettier, of course.”

“We have both known what you’ve been doing. Sending your poor honchkrow all the way out to Lumiose City to watch him. What, did you want to make sure he was still alive? Because clearly you care so much!” 

“I did not intend for it to be secret.”

“Professor Sycamore thought of you every day of his life, and in his final moments. But you did not care enough to show up to his funeral. Not a care in the world. Why? Not worth the potential of being seen? Too much of a hassle? Didn’t want to have to witness how you left the world? How you left him to DIE?! He is-- was… is, the cornerstone of my life. I have loving family and friends, but he was, in a way, a soulmate. Not romantically of course, but beyond that. He taught me everything I know. He taught me how to pour love into something and create something beautiful. He taught me the virtues of balance, patience, forgiveness. He forgave you, Lysandre. And that’s a true testament to his character, because I don’t think I ever will. Not for the destruction and devastation you caused, but for how you betrayed the only person left alive who still loved you.” 

“We can bring him back.” 

“Don’t. Don’t say that to me.” 

“We can.” 

“Don’t SAY THAT TO ME! That is the last thing he would have wanted. Did he teach you nothing? Do you even now move through your life so self-absorbed that you cannot understand that someone may have different desires than you?” 

“I acknowledge peoples desires.” 

“You just do not care.” 

“I dismiss ones that are unproductive, yes.” 

“How could he have spoken so highly of you.” 

“Are you seeing that he perhaps was not always of sound judgement?” 

She freezes for a moment, but only a flash. “Stop. You’re trying to sow seeds of doubt into my mind.” 

“I am merely attempting to show you that all is not as perfect as you want to believe.”

“What do you know of perfection? You are a flawed man who caused ugly destruction, nothing more.” 

“I know more of perfection than any person. I have witnessed it, embodied it, believed in it, created it.” 

“You’re insane.” 

“If I were insane, would your pure Augustine have loved me so?”

She wants to spit on him. To vomit. To scream. She had imagined meeting Lysandre many times, asking him all sorts of questions, wondering what bond they would form. But today was the day she pushed herself to truly discover him, fueled by the sole desire of yelling at him for continuing to be so weak as to betray his only friend in his final moments. 

“Would he?” Lysandre presses. 

“Clearly, he did.” 

She expected Lysandre to smirk at that, to be haughty, but he remains emotionless. “Clearly.” … “Is this all you wanted from me? You came all the way out here to scorn me?” 

“Yes, actually.” 

“Such a distance, fueled by the fire in your heart.” 

“Everything you say is nonsense!” 

“Even when I try to show my appreciation for you? What a shame.” 

“The last thing I want is your appreciation.” 

“Ah, but you are doing so marvelously.” 

She wants to bite back with I haven’t done anything, but her curiosity overrides her. “...How so?” she asks, suspicious. 

“Your beliefs are strong. Your passion consumes you. Your values dominate your every decision. And of course, you have taken wonderful care of the professor for me.” 

“There was nothing stopping you from taking care of him yourself! It’s all he wanted!” 

“But if I had, I would have interfered with the balance of things. Don’t you see? He imparted his value of balance upon you, correct?” He waits for an answer.

“Correct.” 

“I could not have forced myself back into his life. It would have broken the delicate ground upon which he rebuilt his world. I tried to raze and rebuild the world, but the force of destruction was too strong that the force of balance overcame me, and then he, and his force of life, was meant to override that. Life must go on, Elysia.” Hearing her name in his voice sends an indescribable shudder through her body. It’s like, a snake, or an eel, something shocking and wet and cold and wrong. “And now you are the life that must go on. You see it now, don’t you? You have his teachings, but my temperament. His values, but my blood.”

“I wish I had your blood on my hands.” 

“I wish you would stop threatening me, but I suppose neither of us will get what we want.” 

“Speak for yourself.” Elysia slyly pulls her hand out from her pocket and tosses a pokeball in the air. The professor’s charizard -- her charizard, now -- lands on the ground with a hard stomp, shaking the earth. It wears a mega stone around its neck, matching one of the rings she wears on her right hand. The pokemon recognizes Lysandre instantly, and is visibly confused, wary, unsure of how to act. How much does the charizard understand of what Lysandre has done? It surely witnessed its trainer, its original trainer that is, cry from the anguish caused by the man below him. But Lysandre also cared for this pokemon once, too. He gave it pets and treats, looked after it while the professor was away, and looked after the professor itself. Why is it being used to threaten him, now? But the charizard can sense Elysia’s anger. And he must trust the person that Sycamore entrusted him with, rather than the man who has been absent for years.

So as Elysia fumes at him, the charizard growls at a man who once was a friend.

“Do not allow yourself to be overcome by wrath, Elysia. Anger is not becoming on you.” 

“I will not be calm only when you stop inciting my rage. And I will get what I want.” She gestures forward and charizard leans in, snarling in Lysandre’s face, small embers inadvertently flurrying out of its nose as it begins to carry the same wrath as its trainer. “You have caused so much suffering to a wonderful man. And you 

“I admire your determination.” 

“I do not want to be someone you admire.”

“Then stop acting admirably.” 

“...”

“If Augustine saw you right now, what would he say?” 

This makes charizard simmer down, as well. 

“Is this your way of begging for mercy?” 

“I do not need your mercy.” 

“How immortal is immortal, hm? Surely being decapatated by a dragon would be enough to strip the gift of life away from you.” 

“I thought you said Augustine taught you about forgiveness.” 

“You do not DESERVE forgiveness!” 

“Ah, so people are only given what they deserve?” 

“You are hardly people.” 

“Yes, I am a god.” 

“You are a MONSTER!” 

“Do not lose track of your emotions, Elysia. You are angry about nothing.” 

“That’s not true.” 

“Then tell me, what are you angry about? My not attending the ceremony of our friend’s death?” 

“Your remorseless betrayal of a man who would have done anything for you.”

“Would he have? Elysia. He never came looking for me.” 

“...What do you mean.” 

“He never came looking for me. He never contacted me. You perceive my honchkrow as me being too weak to approach, but it was an invitation, open to being responded to. You found me so easily, and that was by design. He didn’t do anything for me.” 

“You’re lying. The professor was passionate, and driven, and--” 

“Weak. He was too weak to confront the fear of what he would find when he looked deep enough. He was like this before I fired the Weapon, and remained as such to his dying day.” 

She’s still angry. She’s still so, so angry at him, a lava still sitting in her stomach and wrists and wanting to explode again. But for the first time so far, the tides change, and water strikes her now. Tears begin to prick in her eyes and warp her vision, and she falls backward, sitting on the ground. She is no longer standing over him, now. 

“Call off your pokemon.” 

“No.” 

Lysandre looks the charizard in the eye and commands, “Dracaufeu. Retourne.” 

The dragon hesitates, unsure of what to do. It continues its locked gaze with Lysandre until it decides… to not listen to him. The charizard snuffs a small ember at him and retains its stance. 

“Don’t speak to the professor’s pokemon like that.” 

“Its allegiance to you is admirable. And isn’t it your pokemon, now?” 

“...Yes. It’s just taking some getting used to.” 

“Adjusting always takes time.” 

“It does.” Elysia wants to rest her head on her knees, give her body a moment’s rest, but for some reason she is afraid of letting her guard down around this man. Rationally, yes he is a threat, but she also does not feel as though he will be violent toward her. And yet, she is still on high guard. The two of them exist in a brief silence, together but separate. The air around Elysia is filled with solid utter grief and warping distorting rage; the air around Lysandre is stagnant nothingness save for the threatening dragon’s head looming above his own. Finally, though, now the calmest she has been this entire time, Elysia asks flatly, “Why didn’t you come to the funeral.” 

Lysandre answers simply. “I have not seen him since before I fired the Weapon. To see him decaying, ravaged by age would have corrupted my memory of him.” 

“You disregarded dignity and respect for a loved one because you did not want to perceive him as something other than perfect.” 

“Yes.” 

“You disgust me.” 

“I know. … What are people to one another if not projections of stylized impressions?” 

“Love is raw, intimate, messy, difficult. Love is not pristine, nor is any person. Relationships are more than distant idealization.”

“Then why did you yell and threaten me when I suggested Augustine was flawed?” 

For the first time, she has no answer to this. 

“Now. Do you have anything else to say, or will you leave me be? This was quite a lot of interaction for someone who has been isolated for as long as I have.” 

“You cannot make me take pity on you.” 

“I do not want your pity. I just want to be alone.” 

In a huff, Elysia plants her feet firmly on the ground and stands up, fists clenched by her sides. “It’s what you deserve.” She begins to mount her charizard, only catching a quick glimpse of Lysandre’s face as she turns. He’s smirking. 

“Exactly.” 

Without another word, she and charizard fly off the mountainside, back toward town. 

[a-tale-of-legends]

I have no idea how to do this post, but I'm just gonna start with the oc's of my mind that actually caught and own a legendary Pokemon. Before, I didn't want any of them to have any, but after some thinking, some seems inescapable:

Alexis has Zekrom( Okay but I've been thinking: what if Alexis gave Wayne Zekrom, like how N gave Reshiram to Eva? A passing of the torch. What do you guys think?)

Eva has Reshiram and Kyurem( am debating on whether she should realize Kyurem or not, but for now she has it)

Naomi had Zacian( and maybe on of the Galarian Legendary Birds...... debating)

Carol has bonded with Calyrex and his horse and caught it upon his wishes( Calyrex is kept in the CT, as it's protector.... also maybe on of the Galarian Legendary Birds.... debating)

Kenji( at one point) owned, er, ' owned' Ho-Oh.

Aiko (at one point) ' owned' Lugia

Jude had no choice but to keep Yveltal( being the embodiment of death and was incredibly unstable when they found it. Xernaus wasn't caught but was taken in by Sycamore to heal)

Another one I'm debating about is that Kohaku catches one of the Eon twins( Latios given I'm playing Omega Ruby. I'm worried lore wise, Latios wouldn't want to be away from his sister, though the Eon Flute could help gap that bridge).

Aster takes care of Nebby while Lillie's away. They give Nebby back when Lillie comes home.

Yarrow is taking care of the other Type: Null that was abused by Lusamine ( it's a good way for Gladion and him to talk too. Finally). Also yes, technically speaking, type:Null is a legendary Pokemon, if not a failed clone of one. Think Mewtwo.

Now for those who didn't catch a legendary Pokemon, but still bonded with one( or is connected to it in a way)

Jin never caught Rayquaza cause it's basically Hoenn's Arcues. Of all the legendaries that shouldn't be caught, Rayquaza isn't one of them( in my universe, do whatever you want in yours lol)

Danica has always had this connection with Giratina, even if she didn't know it. However, after coming face to face with it, she both afraid and.... concerned. She was torn about catching the pokemon. She could have sworn the being was talking to her. But that didn't matter. She fought the beast, taking it down. It didn't seem angry. It seemed understanding. Bittersweet. Danica didn't realize this would lead to her willingly going into the distortion world ever now and again to visit her friend( and to make sure Cyrus stays alive)

Kiran came face to face with Arcues that one time. How they're alive, he doesn't know. But they do know that they just have more questions than answers.

Both Eva and Wayne peaked the interest of the Swords of Justice. Never caught them, but they did help out in crucial parts of the story. Keldeo in particular seems to really like Wayne.

Aster had this weird rivalry with Tapu-Koko. Like it always wants to fight, but it always seem sad when she has to go. But it refuses to get caught too( probably for good reason). But it would occasionally pop up to help in battle??? Aster is just beginning to think that the poor guardian is lonely. Or just REALLY want to annoy them.

On the previous point, maybe later Tapu-Koko decides to come along with Aster but right now it's a big no.

As I said before, Jewel and Suicune hang out. Jewel never caught it, but if Suicune allows it, they do battle together ( though that's pretty rare being a professor).

( Debating this one, so this might change later) Dante has seen both the capsule that Yveltal and Xernaus was kept in. At the time, Lysandre told him that it was for their protection, and being more focused on the mega stones that whatever Team Flare was planning, he believed it. Though every so often, he would find himself staring at Xernaus' capsule. When both legendaries were released, he( along side Jude and co) rode on it's back out the Team Flare base. However, he couldn't bring himself to check on the creature when it was recovering ( So it took matter into it's own....hooves)

I think that's everyone. I'm pretty sure that's everyone. Okay!

I don't say this enough, but asks are totally okay! Whether it's about this post, or my oc's or just pokemon in general!

I hope you have a lovely day/night :)

[its-ya-boi-autumn]

Butterflies/Chapter 5

Warning: strong language

Chrollo: Tia, are you sure?

You: Of course~ no one is home and they most likely won’t be until really late tonight. My parents leave me home alone a lot.

Chrollo responded differently than how she thought he might, but at the same time what else could she have expected? They just met and she was already inviting him in her home. It was risky, but she wanted to see him.

Chrollo: How about we meet somewhere else first, like at the cafe downtown?

You: What’s wrong with you coming over here?

Chrollo: I just don’t want you to be uncomfortable or anything.

You: But I’m not! I feel safer with you than anyone else. I know I just met you yesterday but nobody else has treated me like this…

After Celestia sent her message, she immediately regretted it. She should have kept it to herself. Why did she tell him that? He probably thought she was insane. That she was weak. Maybe she just messed everything up. Maybe he wouldn’t want to see her anymore. She realized then that she was becoming more and more attached. This was stupid. This was dumb. This wasn’t her. She felt like crying. Why did she always mess everything up? Celestia was already typing the words to tell him never mind her but he replied before she said anything else.

Chrollo: Alright. I can’t stay long though, I don’t want your parents to be angry with you. Or me for that matter.

All her previous feelings from not even a second ago faded. Her face brightened again. Her body bounced on the mattress and she squeaked. Celestia had never had anyone over before. What would they do? She searched around her room. She didn’t have much, everything used for entertainment was downstairs. She didn’t have money to go out either. She was just so excited to invite him over that she didn’t even think about anything else.

You: I don’t have much to do. So maybe leaving the house is a better idea… but I don’t have any money.

Chrollo: I’ll take care of it. Do you like coffee?

Celestia hadn’t had coffee in a long time. All the coffee they had was for her dad. If she even dared to go so much as near it, she’d be done for. She remembered the taste though. The one time Mr. Nymph had brought coffee to school and she asked for a sip. The relaxing aroma of it and the taste of pure coffee beans warm on her tongue. She remembered the flow of it as it passed through her body.

You: Yes, I haven’t had it in a while though.

Chrollo: I’ll come pick you up here in a couple minutes. Be ready okay?

You: :)

Celestia squealed in her head. She hadn’t felt this happy in a long time. Not since she got accepted to Silver Sycamore. What should she wear? Should she fix her makeup? Should she find her mom’s perfume? Celestia silently padded downstairs. Though no one was home, it was almost second nature to stay completely silent in the house. She turned down the hallway and gently pushed open the door to her parents room. Of course, no one was there, but for some reason she expected her mother to be laying in bed drinking her tea.

Celestia glanced around the room again, looking for something that might indicate where her mother’s beauty products might be. Somewhere her father wouldn’t mind leaving it. Her father hated makeup and despised perfumes. Though, Celestia knew she had them somewhere. Her mother didn’t just naturally smell like hibiscus and lilac. Celestia turned to double check, making sure no one was around. She entered the room carefully. The closet was the first place she decided to try. The sliding mirror of the door creaked as it opened. The sound made Celestia’s ears hurt. How had she never heard this before at night? It was so loud.

Her ears ringing, Celestia moved over some clothes near the walls and around the corners. Nothing. She put everything back neatly- or messily- where she found it, closing the door with another loud creak. She winced at the sound again. She checked under the bed and in the dresser drawers. She didn’t find a single bottle. She could smell it though. Flowers filled her nose with a pleasant scent. Celestia followed it. Behind the dresser were three bottles that reeked of overwhelming florals. Odd. She couldn’t smell it unless she was next to them.

She tried with all her strength to move the dresser over. It wouldn’t budge. Her arms weren’t long enough to reach the bottles either. Maybe she could use something to grab them. There wasn’t much she could use in the room. She smelled her clothes. It wasn’t that she smelled bad, she just wanted to smell different. Just putting on clean clothes should have been enough though. Plus, she was sure Chrollo wouldn’t notice much, even if she did smell like hibiscus and lilac.

She left the room exactly where she found it, going back upstairs to change before Chrollo came to pick her up. She changed into some dark skinny jeans, a simple black t shirt and some low top sneakers. She’d never dress like this normally. She tucked the shirt in, adding a bright red bandana headband to contrast with her hair. She liked it. Simple, yet she still looked nice. Casual. It was a little warmer today as well, but she’d bring a jacket just in case. Chrollo was sweet, but she was sure he wouldn’t give her his hoodie. That would be embarrassing to expect. Celestia tied the jacket around her waist to enhance what little curves she had. She was getting thinner still. Not close to anorexic yet, but a small thigh gap had started to form between her thighs and her stomach sunk in without her inhaling. What would he think of that? Would Chrollo think she was gross?

She pushed the thought out of her mind. She had to stay positive, stay happy. She had to look like everything was fine. He couldn’t find out. Not now. A honk signaled someone was in front of her house. She went to check, making sure it was Chrollo. The white car was parked parallel to her front door. Celestia smiled, grabbing her phone just in case. She raced to the door, opening it and strolling to the car, pretending she wasn’t ecstatic about seeing him. When she opened the door and sat down, Chrollo greeted her with a smile.

“Good evening Tia, how was school?” he smiled with his eyes. Celestia returned that smile, the nickname sounding sweet off his tongue.

“It was good, nothing really happened.” she spoke softly since there was no need to be loud. She didn’t mention the stares and whispers from the girls across the cafeteria or even how nobody was really messing with her anymore.

“That’s good, I’m glad. We won’t be out too long. I’d feel bad to cause you another panic attack like at the bookstore. I was worried for the rest of the night.”

I was worried for the rest of the night.

He worried about her. She now wished she would have said something to him, letting him know she was okay. Telling him that nothing happened to her.

“Sorry about that, I just didn’t want it to seem awkward. I felt like it’d seem weird if I just texted you immediately when I got home…” she let herself be honest about it. Celestia kept her head down, not able to look at him. A part of her thought that sounded stupid.

“Oh Tia… you don’t have to worry about that. I wouldn’t have minded.” he replied softly. He finally started the car, moving forward to go downtown.

“Have you started Endurance yet?” he started a conversation suddenly. Celestia whipped her head around, all of her attention on him.

“Yes actually! I’m almost done now.” she smiled. Chrollo widened his eyes in surprise.

“That’s good! What part are you at?” he actually wanted to talk to her. She went on about the story, talking about how good it was and that he had been right. It felt like she was right there with Shackleton as he explained the story to her. The detail in the novel invoked intensity on her physically and mentally. She was in love with it. Chrollo listened the whole time, not interrupting at any point until the end.

“Ah I see. So when is your report due?”

“In a few weeks, we don’t have an exact date yet.” she checked her phone. It was almost dead! She audibly gasped without realizing. For a moment, Chrollo’s attention was on her and her only.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, facing back to the road.

“Nothing serious, sorry. My phone is just nearly dead and I didn’t bring my charger…” she lied. It was serious. Very serious. If someone messaged her and she didn’t answer… she didn’t even want to think about it.

“Here, I have a similar charger I think.” Chrollo pulled out a cord from the small compartment in the middle of their seats. The cord matched her phone and she plugged it in. A charging symbol appeared briefly on her screen. She smiled.

“Thank you Chrollo.” she set her phone down in the middle compartment. Chrollo nodded, turning his attention back to the road.

Downtown was a lot busier than usual. Her stomach twisted slightly at the sight of so many people in one spot. She wouldn't panic today. Not in front of him. Not again. Celestia leaned back in her seat and focused on her window. The people that passed by were a blur now. It made her feel a little better. A voice suddenly came from the radio. She turned her attention from the window to see Chrollo’s hand on the dial.

“You seem nervous, so I’ll try some music for you. Any recommendations?” he asked. A black cord was plugged into the radio port and Chrollo took out his phone. The man on the radio’s voice stopped entirely. The car was silent, Chrollo waiting for her to reply.

“Um… Beethoven?” she tried. Chrollo gave her a surprised look.

“You like compositions?” he scrolled through his phone, turning on Piano Sonata 8 for her. She smiled, nodding.

“That’s interesting. I also enjoy a good classic. I prefer Mozart myself.” he smiled as well, keeping his eyes on the road until they arrived near the beach.

The café near the beach, a relatively smaller place that didn’t look too busy for her to function in. She’d only been there once, and barely even went inside. She had been waiting for her mother to order some tea. Celestia would have gone in with her, but her mother stopped her at the door, saying children weren't allowed. At the time, she knew this wasn’t true, but she didn’t dare go against her mother. Not that she feared being hit by her, but her father would have had her ass for it.

“Have you been here before?” Chrollo had turned the music down, waiting for Celestia to answer. She shook her head, not entirely lying but she hadn’t ever seen the menu, so technically it was the truth.

“I think you’ll like it.” he chuckled. Celestia kept the sound in her memory, storing it away in the back of her head. He had a nice laugh. Chrollo parked close to the door, shutting off the car and getting out before her. Celestia was in the middle of taking her phone off the charger when her car door opened. Chrollo had opened it for her, smiling down at her. The gentlemanly gesture made her shiver. She stepped out of the car and he closed the door behind her, leading her into the little shop.

Bright floral lights greeted her as soon as she walked through the glass doors. Sunlight flooded in from all sides, huge windows taking up most- if not all- of the wall space. Pink and white tables and chairs scattered around the cream linoleum flooring. The center counter was covered in flowers and crammed with sweets. Cakes, bagels, sandwiches, and other foods filled the glass case to the brim. A chalkboard hung close by with specials written in colorful lettering and the main menu was lit around the rim with string lights. Celestia smiled at the delightful sight. Chrollo took notice, staring down at her. He was studying her reactions, her in general. What was she like, what did she like, and how did she react? All of these would be essential later.

“It’s so pretty~” Celestia praised the hard work everyone had put in here. A barista caught her attention, asking if they could help. It startled her, so Chrollo moved forward first. Celestia followed close behind.

“Do you know what you want?” Chrollo whispered to her as she came up behind him.

“Just a regular black coffee please…” her voice was small, shy. Chrollo was slightly surprised. He expected something different. He ordered for the two of them, receiving the two tall disposable cups almost immediately after paying.

“Thank you…” Celestia spoke first after receiving her hot coffee, the warmth filling her hands. She had to hold it with both since the cup was rather large. She set herself up at a table, waiting for Chrollo to follow suit. He sat across from her.

“Black coffee huh?” he laughed. Celestia glanced up from her cup.

“What about it?” she didn’t understand why he was laughing at her. Was it weird?

“I just expected you to prefer something else. Something sweeter.” he explained, taking a sip from his. Celestia did the same. The coffee was hot. She didn’t know what she expected.

“I mean I do like sweet stuff,” she wiped her mouth with a nearby napkin, “but I’ve never had anything too sweet coffee wise. I just didn’t want to order something I’d end up not liking.”

“Ah, I wouldn’t have minded.” he gave her another smile. Celestia blushed again behind her cup, hiding her face. She felt goosebumps on her arms. Cold, she put her jacket over her arms. The warmth provided was minimal, but enough for the time being. She continued to shiver despite the feeling. Chrollo furrowed his brows.

“Are you cold?” he asked as if it weren’t obvious. She nodded.

“Yeah a little, but I’m sure I’ll be okay…”

“I can give you my jacket, I feel like I’m overheating.” he offered. A chill ran up her spine for a different reason, though she shook her head.

“No thank you, I don’t want you to end up cold later.” she replied. Chrollo nodded, taking off the jacket he wore and setting it down on the chair behind him. She could have said yes, could have felt the warmth he provided, but she felt that it was awkward. She didn’t want anyone to think they were dating.

They sat in silence for most of the time, increments of conversation coming up every now and then. Chrollo could tell something was going on just by how reserved and private she was. Though, Celestia could have very well just been nervous. With the way she said people treated her though, there had to be more to it than just being a shy young girl.

They stayed and talked until the sunlight in the café turned orange and pink. Chrollo took notice and checked his phone.

“It’s almost 7. Would you like me to take you back?” he set his phone down, resting his chin on his hands.

“I probably should be getting back… she stood, picking up their disposable cups and throwing them away. Chrollo wasn’t far behind her, glancing around the café at anyone who passed. He politely opened the door for her to exit.

“Did you still want to come over for a little while? No one’s home and I don’t really have much to do…” she offered one more time. It was likely he’d say no, but she still wanted to try. Chrollo sighed.

“Alright, but just for a little while. I don’t know how long I can stay.” he obliged. Celestia audibly squealed in delight, nearly sprinting to the car. Chrollo laughed at her excitement. She went to open the car door, but it was locked.

“Hey!” she turned to confront him, a smile still making way in her face. He returned it, walking to the other side of the car to unlock the doors. The two of them stepped inside and started moving.

“So, why do you want me to come over so bad?” Chrollo chuckled. Celestia continued to stare out the window, shrugging her shoulders.

“I don’t know, I just like spending time with you. You don’t have to if it makes you feel uncomfortable.” she replied. She started messing with the cuticles on her fingernails, pulling them off and discreetly throwing them on the floor. She knew it was a bad habit and she hoped he hadn’t noticed it.

“I enjoy your company too, Tia. But are you sure you want me to come over? What will your parents do if-“

“They won’t know. They don’t come home until late. You can leave before then.” she accidentally cut him off, covering her mouth.

“Sorry… I didn’t mean to cut you off…” she felt her face flush for the millionth time that day. Chrollo didn’t respond with anger as she had expected, instead, he laughed again. Genuine laughter. She could listen to it all day.

“You’re okay. You don’t have to worry so much with me, I won’t yell at you for anything.” he promised. Celestia couldn’t help but peer at him out of the corner of her eye. He was so kind. Why? Everyone else made it seem like she was a terrible person, but Chrollo made her feel different.

They pulled up at the end of the street. He must have remembered what she said last time. It’s better to park somewhere not too close to the house just in case someone was home. Chrollo turned off the car, following Celestia out and to her house. She checked the door to see if it was locked. She twisted the handle, opening it with ease and holding up her hand.

“Wait here. I didn’t see a car, but I’m going to double check just in case…” she whispered. Chrollo gave her a confused face, but nodded. She acted like something terrible would happen if she brought him in. If that was the case, then why even risk it?

Celestia crept into the door, double checking to make sure Chrollo was still there. She dipped around in her parents room and in the rooms upstairs. No one was home. She came back to him at the door, signaling he was safe. Chrollo entered and shut the door behind him. He stayed close to her as she led him upstairs to her room.

“It’s not much, we don’t have too much money. Most likely my fault, my mom wanted me to go to a good school.” she warned, remembering that Chrollo had a lot of money and that her house might look completely abhorrent to what he was used to. She creaked open her bedroom door.

“Ta-da…” she joked, slightly laughing at what was considered a bedroom. Chrollo frowned.

“Oh dear…” it was more sympathetic than rude, but Celestia still felt a pang in her chest. At the very least, she cleaned her room a little that morning before leaving for school. She covered the stains on her mattress with the thin blanket she had so she wouldn’t look as dirty.

“I know… it’s okay though, it’s enough for me.” she faked a small smile at Chrollo. He still gave her a concerned look. Worrying.

“Alright, do you mind if I sit down on your bed?” he kept his voice low as he gestured for the mattress on her floor. She plopped down on it, patting the spot next to her. Chrollo wasn’t super tall, but his legs took up most of his body. He squatted down and bounced a little on the mattress. Celestia looked around her room for something.

“I don’t have much, and my tv isn’t too interesting, but I have a DS we can play.” she suggested. A purple DS was stashed somewhere in her closet. She jumped up to go and grab it, moving clothes over to find it. She tried her best to hide the enormous pile of dirty clothes on the floor. The smell was just wafting past her nose when she found the device and shut the door. She checked to see if it was charged. A full battery flashed on the screen, making her smile. She handed it to Chrollo.

“I don’t play video games much, but I wouldn’t mind watching you.” he said, a hand waving to decline. Celestia hummed, sitting back down next to him and starting up the game she had. She tried to start up conversation while playing.

“What are some hobbies you have?” she asked him, keeping her eyes on the game. Chrollo was a little startled by her question, but answered nonetheless.

“I enjoy reading and spending time with people close to me. I don’t do much.” he replied, laughing lightly. Celestia smiled.

“It’s okay I don’t do much either. I mostly watch what I can on tv and play this DS.” she felt the device vibrate in her hands. Her character died and she whined to herself. A warmth hovered over her. She glanced up to see Chrollo leaning over her shoulder. Instead of being frightened, she leaned a little closer. They hadn’t touched yet, but she hoped a little that they would. She shifted her attention back to her game, starting the level over again.

A loud bang sounded through the house, making her character die again. Celestia jumped.

“Fuck!” her dad's voice echoed through the house. Celestia was already shaking before she could stop herself. More slamming occurred through the halls of the house. Celestia eyed Chrollo. He hadn’t flinched, just sat where he was still leaning over Celestia, his eyes on the door. A mumble indicated her mother trying to calm him down.

“I am not taking that piece of shit with me Naomi!” he yelled. He was talking about a Celestia. There was nothing he hated more than her.

“Nick she doesn’t even have to be close to you, she can move somewhere else-“

“I can’t take her to the boss! She’ll make me look fucking terrible, she always does. She’s a shit eating brat and I wish she’d fucking kill herself! It’d take the burden off of me!” another smack on the counter. Celestia could hear him shaking in rage just by his voice alone. Stomping up the stairs made her jump into action.

“Go! Hide in the closet, I’m sorry for the smell-“ she pushed Chrollo into her closet, shutting the door and hiding the DS under her bed before her dad opened the door. She fell onto her mattress, staring up at him. His face was beat red, anger radiating off of his whole being. Her father stormed up to her, shoving a crumpled sheet of paper into her chest and winding her.

“I’m being forced to take your dumbass to the fucking dance with Angel May next week. You’d better fucking behave or I’ll fucking kill you, do you hear me Celestia Marie? Am I fucking clear?” he was practically spitting in her face. She bit back her tears, unable to stop shaking. He was so close to her face she could see the veins starting to pop in his forehead.

“Yes Daddy…” she uttered, trying to keep her voice steady even though her fear was obvious. Her father stood up to his full height, his breathing still heavy as he slammed the door behind him. Celestia was left shaking again, as she had every other time he spoke to her. She felt as if she couldn’t breathe, her throat and chest completely constricted. A slight crack sounded from the closet. Chrollo peeked out of the doorway. Celestia didn’t move, afraid she’d collapse if she stood. Chrollo crept out towards her, careful not to scare her.

“Are you alright Tia?” he whispered, trying not to make a sound. He glanced at the door to make sure her father didn’t come back. Celestia didn’t respond, completely unable to.

And then she started crying.

She had learned to keep quiet when she sobbed, covering her face and hiding it from Chrollo. He wasn’t supposed to find out. Not yet. Not like this. Chrollo put his hands on her shoulders and kept her close to him. He didn’t envelope her in fear it might cause more panic for her.

It took a while, but eventually she stopped crying, feeling empty.

“I’m sorry…” she apologized. She felt awful for having him witness that. She didn’t mean for him to. She should have known better. She was just so excited that he had agreed. At least her dad didn’t notice Chrollo in the room.

“They usually don’t come home until after midnight… it’s rare they come home any earlier, and that’s normally around 10 or 11…” she sniffles in between words, wiping her nose on her sleeve. Snot glistened in the dim light of the room and she hid her arm so Chrollo wouldn’t see it. Celestia couldn’t even bring herself to look at him. Her face was probably swollen and her mascara was run down her face. A sigh sounded over her head.

“It’s not your fault, you didn’t think about it. Don’t worry, I don’t think any less of you.” his words were simple but completely unexpected. She didn’t know what to do about him now though. Her windows were bolted shut so he couldn’t get out from there. Her father would most likely be up all night from being angry with her, even if she did nothing wrong.

“I don’t know how you’re gonna get home… I-“

“I’ll stay. I don’t trust you alone here for the time being, I might not be able to do much about your dad but I’ll be here to comfort you for now. I’ll just take you to school in the morning.” he offered. Celestia whipped her head around, already shaking her head.

“But what if-“

“I’ll be okay…” he offered her a smile, calming her down slightly, but not enough. Her mind was still spinning, afraid for both of them. She stared back down at the floor. He wouldn’t leave her, not right now at least.

[sage-nebula]

ryttu3k replied to your post: In the AU where Lysandre and Sycamore were friends...

The ‘Lysandre needs to be punched even more than he does in the actual anime canon AU’? :p

Hahaha, that is a bit wordy, but it isn’t inaccurate. I mean, really---

As two agents of Team Flare led Champion Stone and Manon to a small room where she could stay while her chespin recuperated (“recuperated” might have been a better way to put it, but Lysandre had always felt that air quotes were juvenile), Augustine turned back to Lysandre, his gaze hard. It was, Lysandre thought, possibly the fiercest he had ever looked, though Lysandre couldn’t say that his anger was much more intimidating than Alan’s. If Alan was as intimidating as an angry charmander, then Augustine was a rockruff trying to pass himself off as a lycanroc.

“Come with me,” Lysandre said, and he gestured for Augustine to follow him down the hall, in the opposite direction from where the Flare agents had led Champion Stone and Manon. “We can talk along the way. What did you want to discuss?”

As he had when Lysandre had first found him standing in the corridor and asked him what he was doing there, Augustine opened his mouth to reply, took a breath instead, and closed it for a moment before responding. He was choosing his words carefully, and that Lysandre could appreciate. Only fools plowed ahead without thinking the matter through, and despite what his taste in fashion suggested, Augustine had never been a fool.

“I thought I made that clear a few moments ago. I want to talk about Alan. Where is he?”

Augustine had made that clear, having followed ‘I need to speak with you’ with ‘Where is Alan?’, but Lysandre had sidestepped the question with Manon’s unwitting assistance (for sobbing ten-year-olds were difficult for most people to ignore, much less Augustine Sycamore), and had hoped that feigning ignorance would cause Augustine to back down or avoid the topic himself. But luck, it seemed, had decided not to favor him in this instance, and so he pretended to consider the question a moment before he answered.

“I’m not certain. He may be in the medical bay, given that his charizard no doubt needs rest after the gauntlet they just ran. He may be gathering supplies for his journey. He might have already left. I lost track of him after I was informed of the situation surrounding Manon’s chespin. He could be anywhere, really.”

“But he’s here.” It wasn’t a question, and Lysandre glanced to his right to see that Augustine had not only fallen into pace beside him, but that he was staring up at him with an unwavering stare. “You may not know exactly where he is, but you have a general idea.”

“He may not be here,” Lysandre said. “He might have already left.”

“Even if he has, you know how to contact him. You’ve always known how to contact him.”

Once again, Augustine wasn’t asking, and now Lysandre could hear a faint tremble in his voice. By this point they had reached Lysandre’s office, yet although Lysandre opened the door and gestured for Augustine to enter, Augustine stopped just outside the entrance, his fingers curled into fists. Lysandre frowned, as much at the pose Augustine struck as his defiance. Lysandre knew that Augustine and Alan weren’t actually related, but right then the resemblance was uncanny.

“What is it, specifically, that you want?” Lysandre asked.

“I want to know why you lied,” Augustine said, and this time his response was immediate, sharp, as if it had been burning on his tongue. “You knew where he was and what he was doing this entire time, and yet you---”

“I never lied to you,” Lysandre interrupted.

Augustine huffed a laugh of disbelief. “That, itself, is a lie.”

“No, it isn’t.” A thread of annoyance coiled through him, though Lysandre kept his voice even. “You never asked if I knew where Alan was, or if I had heard from him, and as such I never told you that I didn’t. I never lied to you.”

“Lies by omission are still lies, Lysandre. Surely you’re smart enough to realize that. I know you are.”

Lysandre glanced over Augustine’s head. The corridor was empty save for the two of them, but Lysandre hadn’t been lying when he said he didn’t know specifically where Alan was. The last thing he needed was for Alan to wander into the hallway with Augustine standing right there. He gestured into his office.

“Semantics aside, it’s poor decorum to argue in the middle of a hallway. Come into my office if you wish to continue this conversation.”

Augustine glared at him for a moment more, yet then turned and entered the office. Lysandre allowed himself a small smirk at Augustine’s back as he stepped in and shut the door behind him. The moment the door snapped shut, Augustine turned back to face him, and Lysandre made sure his smirk was gone the moment their eyes met.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Augustine demanded. “You knew how worried I was about him. You’ve known since he first went missing---though he was never truly missing, was he? He was working for you. You brought him on as your employee, and yet you never told me. Despite all the times I brought him up, you never said a word. Why?”

“I didn’t believe it was relevant,” Lysandre said, and once again Augustine’s expression was aghast. “You never asked, and I tend not to go into my employee roster with people not affiliated with Fleur-De-Lis Laboratories.” 

“Your employee---? Lysandre,” Augustine laughed incredulously, “he isn’t just another employee on your roster, he’s my son---”

“He isn’t your son.”

“Yes, he is,” Augustine snapped, and if he had looked fierce before, that was nothing compared to how he looked now. Lysandre was almost impressed. “He is in all the ways that matter, and you know that. You had no right to keep this from me. You have no right to do any of the things you’ve done.”

Lysandre took a deep breath to give himself a moment to think, and crossed his arms. “Even if you do consider him to be your son,” he said slowly, “that doesn’t give you the right to be informed about every aspect of his life. Alan’s business is his own, and I did not---nor do I---need your permission to employ him here.”

“This isn’t about whether or not you needed permission, and you know that as well, so stop deflecting.”

“I’m not deflecting. The matter we’re discussing is whether I was wrong in not telling you about Alan’s service here, and my point is that I wasn’t. You never asked, and even if you had, it isn’t up to me to keep you informed of Alan’s business. He’s capable of making his own decisions---”

“He’s a teenage boy---”

“He’s an experienced trainer, and as such there is nothing wrong with me employing him,” Lysandre said, though in truth Alan hadn’t been that experienced when Lysandre had brought him on. He hadn’t been a rookie, to be sure---he had given Lysandre’s Flare agents more than enough of a hard time to prove that much---but compared to Lysandre, he practically had been. Nonetheless, it was nothing that rigorous training for both him and his then-charmeleon hadn’t been able to fix, and if the mega evolution gauntlet he had just conquered was anything to go by, he was more than experienced now. If anything, perhaps Alan’s charizard was a little too strong for Lysandre’s liking.

“There’s something wrong when he drops out of contact for two years, coincidentally right around the time he must have entered your service,” Augustine said. “There’s something wrong when he was only thirteen when you employed him, he’s only fifteen now, and yet he’s apparently risking his life on a regular basis. Steven Stone told me what happened in Hoenn. He told me that Alan nearly died.”

Ah, and there it was---the missing link for how Augustine had found out in the first place. Lysandre cursed himself for not seeing it coming, though in fairness to himself he didn’t know how he could have. He hadn’t pegged Champion Stone as a gossip (although, he thought, perhaps he should have---it always was the pretty ones, after all), and even if he had, he wasn’t aware that Augustine knew him. There was no way he could have known that Champion Stone would call Augustine the moment he was out of Lysandre’s sight, but he still couldn’t help but want to kick himself for not nipping this problem in the bud when he had the chance.

“He didn’t nearly die,” Lysandre said. “He was an asset in---”

“How would you know? According to Steven, you weren’t there, and you never asked after his condition once he was injured,” Augustine said, and Lysandre scowled at his interruption. “Speaking of injuries, Steven and Manon also told me that he injured his shoulder prior to the battle that nearly killed him. How is his shoulder doing? Did he have it treated?”

“I didn’t think it necessary,” Lysandre said, and Augustine glowered at him. “He said he was fine.”

“He’s fifteen, Lysandre. You are an adult. When he sustains an injury like that, you shouldn’t take his word for it.”

“So I should regard him as a liar? I should disrespect his thoughts and feelings in favor of what I believe is best?”

“That isn’t what I’m saying. Don’t twist my words.”

“Then don’t condescend to me about how I treat my subordinates.”

“He isn’t your---!” Augustine began hotly, but he cut himself off mid-sentence, and took a deep breath through his nose. It truly was the most angry Lysandre had ever seen him, and he had to admit; now that Augustine had been riled up, he did look a bit more lycanroc than rockruff at the moment. Just a bit. “You have a way to page the employees who work here, don’t you? Call him. I want to see him, and I want to make sure his shoulder is properly taken care of.”

“His shoulder is fine.”

Augustine glared at him. “We’ll see. Call him.”

“With due respect, Augustine, I don’t follow orders from anyone,” Lysandre said, and he returned Augustine’s glare in kind. “Not even you.”

“With due respect, Lysandre, I am not in the mood to play,” Augustine said. “Forgive me for not framing my request as politely as I could have, but my son is injured, and I haven’t spoken to him for two years. I need to see him, and you know how to contact him. Considering you have lied to me about his whereabouts and activities for the past two years, and actively led me to believe he was missing, I believe you owe it to me to summon him here so that I can see for myself that he is all right. So, if you would be so kind, call him, please.”

Augustine’s voice was taut and brittle; despite his polite language, his request wasn’t much of a request at all. But Lysandre could see that he wasn’t about to back down, and there were no real deflections left open for him any longer. With a sigh, Lysandre strode over to his desk and picked up the receiver of his desk phone before he punched in Malva’s extension.

It only took two rings for her to answer. “What can I help you with?”

“Professor Sycamore would like to speak with Alan,” Lysandre said, and he met Augustine’s eyes as he said it. “Send him to my office.”

On the other end of the line, Malva laughed, and Lysandre was glad he had the foresight to call her from the desk phone rather than his Holo Caster. No matter how intensely Augustine glared at him, there was no way he would be able to hear her response.

“Well now, this is an interesting turn of events. Whatever are you going to do?”

“I see,” Lysandre said. “Thank you for letting me know.”

“So that’s how you’re going to play it? Pity. It’s so boring. Well.” Malva sighed. “I suppose there’s always time for more interesting developments later.”

Lysandre hung up the phone.

“Well?” Augustine prompted.

“He already left,” Lysandre said. “It isn’t surprising. He’s very dedicated to his work---incredibly determined to see it through. It’s one of his finer qualities.”

“He’s injured, and his shoulder isn’t going to treat itself,” Augustine said instead. Lysandre fought the urge to roll his eyes. “You have a way to call him on the road, don’t you?”

“His shoulder clearly isn’t bothering him if he has decided to keep traveling,” Lysandre said. “He’s fine, Augustine. Isn’t that what you always believed? You weren’t wrong.”

“Yes, I very clearly was. Do you or do you not have a way to contact him?”

“Whether I do or not doesn’t matter. I can assure you that his charizard has already taken him far enough away by now that he won’t be able to double back tonight,” Lysandre said. Augustine opened his mouth to reply, and Lysandre cut across him. “I promise you that he is fine. I wouldn’t lie to you.”

“You already have,” Augustine said.

“We can stand here arguing semantics all night, but it won’t do either of us any good,” Lysandre said. “But Alan’s work will. He is working toward a greater purpose, working to use the very same mega evolution energy that you have dedicated your life to researching in order to make the world a better place. You should be proud, Augustine. What he’s doing is for the best.”

“That isn’t how Steven made it sound,” Augustine said.

“No? Well, I suppose that isn’t surprising,” Lysandre said. “But with all due respect to Champion Stone, I believe I have a better idea of what we’re seeking to accomplish---and what Alan is assisting us with accomplishing---than he does. I can assure you, when we are finished, the world will truly be a more beautiful place.” Lysandre paused, and then affected a smile. “Surely the years of friendship between us must put some merit behind my words for you.”

Augustine considered him for a long moment. “Out of respect for the years of friendship between us, and out of concern for Alan, I want to believe you,” he said. “But in all honesty, Lysandre, in light of all the lies, I’m not so sure that I can.”

[cow-legs]

Girls Night Out

I wanted to practice writing something in a script format which I’ve never really done before in any serious capacity, so I asked people on twitter for random Pokémon characters to use (which ended up being Gardenia, Sina, Valerie, and Mr. Backlot) and with those I wrote....something. Enjoy??

HEARTHOME CITY - NIGHT

    [Gardenia, Valerie, and Sina are sitting in a booth in a small restaurant - Valerie and Sina sitting on one side, and Gardenia across from them. Each are just finishing up their respective meals, and are mid-conversation.]

VALERIE: I must say, [She pauses to wipe her face with a napkin] I am very happy that you two are getting along so well!

    [As she speaks, she slides her long sleeve back down to its usual length, as she had it rolled up further than it could take as to allow her to actually use her hand for eating, but was now finished]

GARDENIA: Well, thanks for bringin’ us all together! It’s been a while since I’ve had a good night off.

SINA: Same. If it weren’t for you bringing me with you here, I’d probably be back at home reorganizing like dozens of research papers for the fifth night in a row, so chilling with you and Gardenia is an alternative I’d take like, any day.

GARDENIA: Aww~

    [Valerie chuckles, pleased with the situation, Sina takes another sip of her drink.]

SINA: How’d you two meet, anyway? 

GARDENIA: Oh, well, years back all us Sinnoh leaders went up to Kalos to challenge the leaders there.

SINA: Oh!! Oh, yeah, Arceus, I remember that! I REALLY wanted to see Fantina's matches, but I had just started working for the professor at the time so I had wayyy too much work to do...

GARDENIA: Ooh, Fantina? Are you a fan of hers? She's in town, I could probably introduce you!

SINA: Oh Arceus, no, haha! You really don't have to.

GARDENIA: Aaaalright, she's probably asleep anyway. [Laughs] But anyway, me 'n Val got paired up for our first match, and we became friends pretty quickly. I won the battle, of course.

VALERIE: That's strange, I appear to remember differently.

GARDENIA: Hey, you and the ref can keep saying that, but we all know that I was the clear winner there.

VALERIE: Funny, I don't recall you having such an attitude when I completely destroyed your roserade.

[All laugh.]

GARDENIA: Anyway, how do you two know each other?

SINA: Well, you know I work under Professor Sycamore, and he usually, like, sends me and Dex to do a lot of his errands all over the reasons, because Arceus knows he has way more work than a man like that should ever be trusted with, so there was this one time I had to go to Laverre City to take care of some stuff,

VALERIE: I was doing a show at the time and was a touch short on hands, so I ended up plucking her up off the street and using her as a model! [Laughs] Thinking back, I feel it was a bit rude to ask on such short notice, but now I am glad I did, as I would not have met her otherwise!

GARDENIA: Oh man, seriously? Lucky!! I don't even like dresses, but I'd seriously kill to wear one of Val's.

VALERIE: [Shocked] Truly? You mean it? Well then, [Claps her hands together once, happily] I will have to make one for you someday!

GARDENIA: REALLY? Fuck yeah!! You're seriously the best, V--

[Waiter walks past, setting down the check in front of Gardenia]

GARDENIA: Oh, thanks. Hey, we can ditch whenever you guys want. [Shoving the change in her pockets]

SINA: We might as well go now. I wanna take in as much of The Sights (TM) that I can before I gotta go back home

[Cut to the girls walking outside of the restaurant. Valerie notices something out of the corner of her eye, and stops.]

VALERIE: Oh my, is that...Amity Square, was it called? 

GARDENIA: Huh? Oh yeah, I forgot that was in this city.

VALERIE: [Excited] Oh, I have read all about this place! I was very sad to learn that Sinnoh has such strict laws about having trained pokémon out in public, but then I found out about this! [Quickly turning to face the others] May we go there?

GARDENIA: Why not?

SINA: Sure, sounds interesting enough.

[Valerie spins around again to face it and begins walking towards it. Gardenia and Sina follow behind.]

VALERIE: Wonderful! My little mawile will have so much fun~!

[At the mention of mawile, Gardenia freezes, dawning horror spreading across her face as she realizes something]

GARDENIA: [Nervous] Uh, Val, actually I uh, don't think this is such a good idea.

VALERIE: Whatever do you mean? [She does not stop walking]

GARDENIA: [Very nervous] I just, uh, well they're REEEALLY particular about the kinds of pokémon they let in, so--

VALERIE: You mean the rule about cute pokémon? There is no need to worry, Gardenia, my lovely little mawile is the cutest pokémon to ever live~! [She gets gradually more excited and her pace quickens with it]

GARDENIA: [Extremely nervous] W-well that's the thing, Val, they're really-- 

[She stops as Valerie has walked through the entrance and Gardenia realizes it's too late. Sina gives her a look of confusion and worry before the two follow after her. Inside, Valerie is speaking to the receptionist.]

RECEPTIONIST: Okay, please show me the pokémon you'd like to accompany you.

VALERIE: [Excitedly hands the nice lady a heal ball] Here! My beautiful mawile!

RECEPTIONIST: [Pauses, before promptly giving it back to her.] I'm sorry, ma'am, but mawile is not one of the pokémon accepted here.

[Valerie, still smiling, blankly looked at the woman. Gardenia cringed, knowing exactly what she feared was soon going to follow.]

VALERIE: Excuse me?

RECEPTIONIST: Here, [She hands Valerie a large laminated sheet displaying several pokémon] this is the list of pokémon we allow inside the square.

[Valerie searches the list, happy expression fading as she cannot find mawile on it. She pauses for a moment, before looking back up at the receptionist with a new polite smile, though this one is clearly forced.]

VALERIE: I am sorry, but there must be some sort of mistake.

RECEPTIONIST: [Shaking her head] I apologize ma'am, but I'm not allowed to let a mawile in. If you don't have any of the accepted pokémon, I'm going to have to ask you to leave.

VALERIE: [Clearly getting more angry as she speaks] Are you not an establishment centered around cute pokémon? How do you have any right to judge my mawile without even seeing her? Only allowing specific species without accounting for any individual pokémon’s beauty is--is--...is criminal! 

RECEPTIONIST: I really am sorry, ma’am, but there really is nothing I can do about it. The owner is very strict on what species are allowed in here, and there’s nothing I can do to change it.

VALERIE: Of course you can! You can just let her in!

RECEPTIONIST: I’m sorry ma’am but I’m going to have to ask you to leave.

VALERIE: Wh--Why you--

    [Valerie moves forward as if she’s about to jump over the desk and attack, but Gardenia and Sina quickly move in and each grab an arm, restraining her. They begin pulling her back towards the doors. The receptionist sighs with relief.]

VALERIE: You savages will pay for this--this--villainy!! The authorities will surely hear of your crimes!

Gardenia: They absolutely will not be hearing about this, I’m so sorry for this.

Sina: Have a nice night!

    [The two successfully pull Valerie outside. They finally let go of her after she has had time to calm down.]

VALERIE: [Calmly before growing more aggressive] I...I apologize for my outburst. I simply cannot believe the nerve of that--! 

GARDENIA: [Nervously and hurriedly] HEYY, how about we go for a nice long walk through Route 212 where you can have your mawile out and we can all calm down.

SINA: That sounds GREAT, COME ON VALERIE LET’S GO!

    [Sina grabs Valerie’s hand - well, sleeve - and they hurriedly head south toward Route 212]

    [Cut to the girls walking along Route 212. Valerie’s mawile has finally been freed now that they are in the wilderness, and is holding onto her sleeve as they go.] 

VALERIE: Okay, alright, I believe I have truly calmed down now. I am very grateful for you two keeping me in line.

GARDENIA: Just don’t do that again and we’re cool. I don’t think I have the emotional energy to prevent another murder.

VALERIE: [Clearly shocked and saddened by that comment] A--Ah, no, I would never do a thing like that! Did it really seem like that…?

GARDENIA: Ah--No, it was a joke, sorry.

SINA: At least one good thing came out of this, this’ll be like a really funny story to tell. 

VALERIE: P-please do not tell anyone about this.

SINA: Aw, alright fine, our lips are sealed.

GARDENIA: Hey, I don’t speak for me. I’m not making any promises. [Grins]

SINA: Hey!!

    [Sina jokingly slaps her on the back of the head for this. They all laugh. Mr. Backlot appears in front of them.]

MR. BACKLOT: Well! That’s a fine mawile you have there! 

VALERIE: Oh? Yes, she is my absolute pride and joy! [She picks up mawile, clearly pleased to have been complimented on her.]

MR. BACKLOT: Hoho, indeed! [Walking closer to examine the small monster] At first I thought one of the pokémon from my garden had wandered out and found you, but I can see that it’s really yours! She even resembles you a bit!

SINA: Your garden?

MR. BACKLOT: Yes! My garden - over there, see? [Gestures to the nearby mansion] Pokémon from all over the world come here just to see it! Many pokémon not found in the region reside there even now! I’d be happy to let you all see it if you’re interested. [The way he says this feels very over-eager and practiced, as if he’s given this talk many times and was just waiting for the opportunity to say it again]

GARDENIA: Oh yeah, I think I’ve heard of this place. Sounds kinda sketchy, though.

MR. BACKLOT: [Noticing Gardenia for the first time] Oh! You are the gym leader Gardenia, correct? Excuse me, I didn’t even realize. I must insist that you come see it, it’s truly a sight to behold, and I’m sure you’ll find an exotic pokémon to fit even your standards!

Gardenia: Ehhh, I dunno, dude.

Sina: As weird as it sounds, the idea of non-native pokémon being here is definitely interesting… The professor would probably want to hear about something like this…

GARDENIA: Isn’t Sycamore into mega evolution? What would he want with some weird garden?

SINA: ...Okay, I want to check it out, are you happy?

GARDENIA: Okay, fine. It sounds more interesting than Amity Square would’ve been, at least. 

MR. BACKLOT: Oh, you know Amity Square?

GARDENIA: Yeah?

MR. BACKLOT: [Proudly] I’m actually the owner of the place!

    [Valerie, who had been calmly listening, suddenly looks alert and stares at Mr. Backlot, her grip on mawile growing tighter.]

VALERIE: You’re the owner of that establishment?

MR. BACKLOT: Yes, I certainly am!

VALERIE: [Taking a step closer] You’re the man who unjustly barred my adorable mawile from entering that place?

MR. BACKLOT: [Beginning to understand the situation] Oh, erm, yes? Oh--but that’s not to say that your mawile isn’t cute! We just, you know, have a standard that we want to--

VALERIE: A what?!

    [Valerie sets down mawile and starts moving towards him faster as he tries to back up.]

MR. BACKLOT: Well, you know, there is, uh, well, you see…

    [At this point he gives up on making an excuse, turns around, and breaks into a full sprint. Valerie gives chase, and Sina and Gardenia after her. Valerie chases the poor man deep into the woods, shouting at him, and the scene fades out as they all disappear from view.]

[thelastspeecher]

Superhero/villain AU - Back to School

Clearly, I’m very good at this whole “taking a break from writing so I can focus on research thing”.  But what can I say?  When your muse hits you over the head with a frying pan of inspiration, what else can you do but write?  Especially when you’ve had a shitty day like I did.

So here.  Have Emmett going to his first day of villain school in the Superhero/villain AU.

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              Stan’s red El Diablo came to a much more careful stop than usual.  Slumped in the passenger seat, Emmett morosely stared out the window at his new school.  Nothing about the outward appearance of Sycamore Grove High School would indicate it was anything special.  In fact, it looked almost exactly like the school Emily had been dropped off at a few minutes ago, only nicer, almost like it was private, not public.  The dread that had been churning in Emmett’s stomach amplified.

              “Emmett?”  Emmett didn’t respond to his father’s voice.  “Emmett.”  Emmett slouched further down his seat.  Stan sighed. “C’mon, kid.  You gotta get out.”

              “Just homeschool me,” Emmett mumbled.

              “Your ma and I have jobs.”

              “Yeah, and yours is being a stay-at-home dad. You’re supposed to do things like homeschooling.”

              “You really don’t want me to be your teacher, okay? Trust me on that.”

              “Uncle Ford-”

              “Emmett.”  Stan’s voice got sharper.  Emmett’s shoulders slumped.

              There goes the idea I could talk my way outta this at the last second.

              “You need to go here.”

              “I was s’pposed to go to high school with Emily.”

              “If you get things under control, that might still work out.  But right now, this is the school you’re gonna go to,” Stan said.  “I’m not happy about it either.  You know that.  But we don’t have any other options.”  Emmett didn’t respond.  “Get your stuff.”

              “…Fine.”  Emmet reluctantly grabbed his backpack and opened the door.  He didn’t make any move to get outside.

              “For the love of-”  Stan exited the car and made his way to Emmett.  “Emmett Stanley McGucket.  Get your butt out of the car now,” he said firmly, crossing his arms. Emmett did as he was told.  “You better not act like this all day, you hear me?”

              “Loud and clear,” Emmett mumbled.  Tears began to prick the corners of his eyes.  Stan let out a soft sigh.

              “C’mere, sport.”  Stan wrapped Emmett in a tight embrace.  Emmett returned the gesture, burying his face into his father’s shirt.

              “Dad, I don’t like this.”

              “I know, I know.”  Stan’s voice was gentler than it had been a moment ago.  “I don’t, either.”

              “It sucks.”

              “Yeah, it does.”  Stan broke off the hug and held Emmett at arm’s length.  “But you’re a Pines man.”  Emmett nodded.  “And what do Pines men do when they get knocked down?”

              “They get back up.”

              “That’s right.”  Stan smiled at Emmett.  “You’ll be fine.  Find yourself a friend or two and before you know it, you’ll be graduating.”

              “…I guess.”  Emmett looked over at the students mingling in the courtyard.  “How am I gonna make friends, though?  No one from my middle school is gonna go here. And you and Ma never had me spend time with her coworkers’ kids.  I’ll stick out like a sore thumb.”

              “Feeling like you don’t belong anywhere is part of the freshman experience.  Your ma said most kids here have never been to a villain-only school before either. Trust me.  Everything’s gonna go great.”

              “Okay.”  Emmett swallowed.  “Are ya sure ya can’t homeschool me?”

              “Sorry, kid.  No dice.”

              “Will you at least pick me up?” Emmett asked. Stan’s face fell.  “What?”

              “This is a one-time thing.  It’s too dangerous for me to drop you off and pick you up all the time.  We can’t risk anyone recognizing me.”

              “Do I have to take the bus home?”

              “Hell, no,” Stan said firmly.  “Your Uncle Lute is gonna pick you up.”  He forced a grin.  “And pretty soon, you’ll be able to drive yourself to school and back home.” Emmett nodded silently.  There was a loud honk.  “Dangit,” Stan muttered.  “People are getting upset I’m parked.”  He met Emmett’s eyes.  “If something happens and you need to come home early, just call.  But try to make it through the day, okay?”

              “Okay, Dad.”

              “That’s my son.”  Stan embraced Emmett one last time.  “Have fun, sport.”

              “I’ll do my best,” Emmett said.  Stan smiled at him, then got back into his car, waving off the frustrated driver behind him.  Emmett watched the car pull away.  He took a deep breath and turned around to face his school.  He swallowed.

              It’ll be fine.  Like Dad said, it’ll be fine.

----- 

              Emmett walked into his first class, Advanced Art History.  He looked around the room.  Students were clustered in small groups as they chatted about their summer vacations. Ducking his head to avoid eye contact with anyone, Emmett made his way to a desk in the back of the room.  He set his bag down.

              “Hey.”  Emmett looked up.  A girl with dyed green hair eyed him suspiciously.  “That’s not your seat.”

              “It doesn’t look taken,” Emmett said softly. The girl rolled her eyes.

              “It’s assigned seating, freshman.  So there aren’t any interactions between different powers.  God.” She turned to her friends.  “Why do they let freshmen into upper level classes? It’s so stupid.”  Emmett snatched his bag up and held it close to his chest.  He could feel panic starting to build.

              “Do you need some help?” someone asked.  Emmett spun around.  A boy about his age smiled sheepishly at him.  “You look a bit nervous.”

              “It’s- um-” Emmett started.  The boy grinned.

              “Your first time at an all-supers school?” he asked.  Emmett nodded reluctantly.  “Don’t worry, most of the freshmen are dealing with that.  And most upperclassmen are nice to freshmen who don’t know the rules,” the boy said, glaring at the girl who had spoken to Emmett earlier.  She rolled her eyes.  “Ignore Lacey.  She’s just angry her boyfriend’s going to a normal school this year.”  The girl – Lacey – glowered.  “C’mon, the seating chart’s always at the front of the class.” Emmett silently followed the boy to the teacher’s desk.  “Right here.” The boy pointed to a piece of paper on the desk.  Emmett nodded.  The boy quirked a half-smile.  “It doesn’t bite.”

              “I know,” Emmett mumbled.  He didn’t move.  The boy put a hand on his shoulder.

              “It’s gonna be all right.  I know all-supers schools can be scary the first time.  I’m just lucky that I’ve been going to them my whole life.  Legally required to.”  Emmett furrowed his brow.  The boy shrugged.  “Psionics usually don’t get their powers until they’re like twenty.  But mine showed up when I was one.  So right off the bat, I couldn’t be around people who weren’t trained on how to handle powers.”

              “My sister’s power manifested when she was one,” Emmett said quietly.  “She’s an elemental, though, so…”

              “Kinda expected,” the boy finished.  He looked down at the seating chart.  “What’s your name?”

              “Emmett.”

              “Emmett…M?”

              “That’s my last initial, yeah.”

              “You’re sitting next to me.”  The boy stuck out his hand.  “I should probably introduce myself, then.  I’m Carter.  Carter Jones.”  Emmett shook Carter’s hand.

              “Nice to meet you, Carter.”

              “So, what brings you to Sycamore Grove?”

              “My power.”

              “Lemme guess.  Psychic?” Carter asked.  Emmett shrugged.

              “Technically, I guess.  How’d ya know?”

              “Psychics and psionics are usually paired up.  I’m immune to psychic powers, after all.”

              “Oh.  Well, that’s not necessary.  I’ve got a power dampener.”

              “You do?  Dude, that sucks,” Carter said emphatically.  Emmett blinked.

              “It does?  Why?”

              “‘Cause kids who rely on power dampeners have to take a special class on controlling their powers.”

              “But my grandma’s been giving me lessons-”

              “Is she a professional villain?”

              “No.”

              Professional, yes.  Villain, no.  Carter nodded.

              “That’s why you still need dampeners.  You haven’t gotten proper training.  But don’t worry, the psychic teachers here are really good. My big brother’s power manifested late, so he got stuck with a power dampener while he was a junior.  Before the year was even over, he didn’t need it anymore.”

              “…I would like to not have to use it.”

              “Well, duh.  It’s basically training wheels.”  The bell rang.  “We better sit down.”  Emmett followed Carter to the back of the room.  Carter pointed out his desk.  Emmett sat down.  Carter followed suit, letting out a small chuckle.

              “What?” Emmett asked.

              “I just think it’s kinda funny.”

              “What is?”

              “I’ve been going to all-supers schools my whole life, so I basically know everyone in this room except you.  And so far, you’re the only person in here that I actually like.”

              “Really?”

              “Yeah.”  Carter grinned at Emmett.  Emmett smiled back.  “At lunch, want me to introduce you to some other people who don’t suck?”

              “That would be nice.”

              “You got it,” Carter said.  The teacher walked into the room.  Silence fell.  Emmett smiled down at his desk as the teacher took roll call.

              Dad was right.  I can make friends.  Carter nudged Emmett.  Emmett looked up.  Carter nodded at the teacher.  She had gotten to last names starting with “L”.

              “Thanks,” Emmett mouthed to Carter.  Carter winked.

              “Emmett…” the teacher started, reading off a piece of paper.  Her eyes widened.  “McGucket?” Emmett raised his hand.

              “Present,” he replied.  The entire classroom turned to stare at him, including the teacher. “Um, is there a problem?” he asked.

              “No.  Not- not at all,” the teacher said.  “…Thank you for attending Sycamore Grove, Emmett.”  She resumed going through the roll call.  Emmett chewed on his lip.

              That was weird.  Someone poked him.  Emmett looked over.  Carter had gone completely pale.

              “What’s wrong?” Emmett whispered.

              “You’re a McGucket?” Carter hissed back.  Emmett nodded.  “Like, the Twister Twins?  Sirocco? Hemlock?”  Emmett nodded again.  “Holy shit, dude.”

              “Is that a bad thing?”

              “Bad thing?  No, it’s the exact opposite.  You didn’t know?”

              “Know what?”

              “The McGuckets are famous in the villain community,” Carter whispered.  Dread began to grow in Emmett’s chest.  “And if you’re a McGucket, that means you’re gonna be famous, too.”  Emmett’s eyes widened.  He looked towards the front of the classroom.  A few students were still watching him, visibly intrigued. Emmett swallowed.

              Oh.  Oh, no.

[dialux]

fear not for the future; weep not for the past

In honor of the trailer, which we have waited for for far too long! Another ridiculous take on Jon assuming his parenthood, though this is... less humorous? Idk, but it does take up the task of explaining the Jon & Catelyn relationship of my dreams!

[In which Catelyn knows the truth, and tells Jon while Ned’s off on a state trip.]

...

“If you hate me that’s fine,” Jon said, sharply, before turning and running.

Catelyn sighed, inwardly and out. Jon was a better kid than Robb- easier, at least, being both quieter and less temperamental all at once. But when he got angry he tended to stay angry, and he also had a terrible habit of running into the woods when he felt like being alone.

With Ned off to Castle Cerwyn for a week with delegations from all seven kingdoms, and Jon having apparently been in such a bad mood as to snap at Arya and make her cry- Arya, crying, over something unrelated to chores!- Catelyn had confronted him, and the boy had shouted for well over a quarter hour before fleeing. But now she had a good idea of what was bothering him, and Catelyn didn’t feel remotely ready to deal with it.

Though- staying silent would likely be crueler than telling the truth.

Jon deserved the truth.

She’d fought over that very point with Ned, before he left. Jon hadn’t been so suspicious of his mother’s personality then, though, and yes, if Catelyn told him the truth there would likely be a moon’s turn of irritated looks from her husband to deal with, not to mention a cold bed.

And yet.

Jon deserved the truth.

Mind made up, Catelyn made her way towards the godswood. She didn’t bother to look at the trees, where Robb always liked to hide; Jon liked his feet planted on solid ground, and Winterfell’s swordsmaster had spent years training that flatfootedness out of him. Instead, she looked at the shadows.

And there he was: Jon, curled into a ball that made him look smaller than his gangly years; hidden in the dark curve of a sycamore overlooking the pools.

Carefully, Catelyn picked her path through the snow and leaves, until she was close enough to feel the heat of the pools’ steam on her frozen fingers.

“I’ve never hated you.”

“Like I’ve never hated you?” was the immediate response.

That stung. Catelyn hadn’t ever been so close to Jon, that was true enough; but she’d never hated him either. To think that he had wasn’t a pleasant thought.

He’s a child.

“This is about your mother,” she said, instead, keeping her voice soothing.

“Everything is about her,” Jon replied bitterly, after a long pause. “Everyone else knows, though, and it was staring at me all along. You-”

“Everyone knows?” Catelyn demanded. Adrenaline jolted through her, but she forced herself to stay calm. 

“Did you know her?” Jon asked flatly, head poking out of the shadows to level a look almost exactly like Ned’s at her. He sounded more hesitant than angry now, and Catelyn thought she could all but taste the desire soaking through his voice. Yes, she decided. Ned was wrong to keep this from him. “Was she- how was she?”

“She was very pretty,” Catelyn said slowly. She’d met Lyanna Stark for all of a few minutes at Harrenhal’s Tourney before the girl had run off; what she’d heard of her since hadn’t been very complimentary.

But Ned had loved her- still loved her- and Jon was her only child. Catelyn wouldn’t taint those memories with her own suspicions.

“Pretty, and bright. She could wield a sword better than half the men her age, and if her father had allowed it, she’d likely have entered all the tourneys in the world. And when you’re as small as she was- it’s courage and brains that won her battles, until the last. Ned tells me you get that from her.”

Lyanna’s brains, had been his actual words, and not an ounce of her ambition. He’d disappear for the Wall if I allowed it, accept the black and the oaths without a second glance.

Sounds like her brother, Catelyn had replied, just as Jon disarmed Robb with a flick of his sword that looked impressive even to her. Ned had looked so surprised, and Catelyn had smiled, slow and wide. He is your son as well, Ned, now. And just because he holds his words important doesn’t make him a fool. Or have you forgotten who challenged Theon Greyjoy to a duel of honor when he was not but ten?

“What did she- look like?”

“Long hair,” Catelyn murmured, eyes closing. “Dark as yours. You’ve her eyes, as well, the shape and the size- though the color’s all Ned’s. Arya’s, as well. Your grandmother’s, apparently.”

“You’re lying to me!” 

Catelyn jerked away, nearly losing her balance on the leaf-strewn ground. When she straightened, Jon’s hands were fisted at his sides and he looked mulishly stubborn. Like Ned had looked, back when Catelyn first pushed him- irritated; somber; regretful but not repenting.

“Her eyes were purple,” said Jon, and the disgust seemed to swallow him whole. “That’s what that Dornish ambassador said! Her eyes were purple, and she killed herself, and-”

She twisted to fully meet Jon, face to face, and asked sharply, “Who did you think your mother was, Jon?”

He shrank back, just a little, at Catelyn’s face, before straightening defiantly. “Ashara,” he said. “Ashara Dayne.”

“Ah.” Surprise left Catelyn faint. She considered letting Jon keep believing in the lie- it was easier, all truth told- but unfair, in the end, to Ashara Dayne’s memory, to Ned’s own honor, and to this little boy standing in front of her. “I see why you’d believe that.”

“But it isn’t true,” Jon said, defeated.

“No,” said Catelyn gently. She reached forward and wrapped her hand over Jon’s shoulder, using the leverage to sink to her knees in front of him. “No, it isn’t true. But it is past time you knew, I think.”

He stilled, body like stone under her fingers. His eyes- so similar to Ned’s; so dissimilar, too: more hurting, more angry, more bitter- didn’t look away from her.

“Ned didn’t tell you at first because it was dangerous,” Catelyn explained. Better Jon understood this before it was overshadowed by the revelation. If Jon were to spill even a hint of it to anyone- the consequences could be disastrous. “Children have loose lips; and if news reached the King, there might not have been much left of us Starks by the time he was done with us. Better you remain ignorant and loved and safe, Ned thought, even if it was all a lie.”

“Father... committed treason?” Jon whispered. 

“At the end of Robert’s Rebellion, he went to Dorne to find his sister, Lyanna. He found her at the Tower of Joy and slew Arthur Dayne, two others of the Kingsguard- and he entered the tower to find her on a bed of roses and blood.” Oh, how Catelyn had had nightmares after Ned had told her! How cruel the world had been to Lyanna Stark, to Ned, to all those Ned had once named family! “She did not live to see dusk, but she was not alone in the tower. For beside her was a babe, just a few days old.”

Jon frowned. “A babe?” Then, realizing: “Me.”

“Yes,” affirmed Catelyn. “You.”

“But then- my father wasn’t- isn’t-”

“Lyanna was stolen away by a man,” said Catelyn, watching Jon sadly. “Do you remember who?”

He looked numb. Shell-shocked.

“Rhaegar Targaryen.”

“And a son of Rhaegar Targaryen would be...”

“A prince.”

“Not a prince,” corrected Catelyn. “The crown prince. And with Rhaegar dead? He’d be king.”

Jon shook his head. “Nobody’s going to ride to give me a- a- throne. Nobody.”

“And that matters little.” Catelyn cupped his jaw and brushed a lock of hair from Jon’s forehead. “The things Robert Baratheon is known for- restraint is not one of them. He attacks threats with his hammer, and beats them until their blood turns rivers red.” A gruesome picture- she did regret how Jon turned white and strained- but also necessary. Better he be wary now than careless. And if he remembered how Rhaegar died, all to the better. “Do you see why we wished to keep it silent?”

Understand. Understand that there are no easy choices in this. Understand that we have done the best we can.

Slowly, Jon nodded. 

“Yes,” he whispered. “I do.”

Catelyn let her hand drop, and bowed her head. Jon left, but Catelyn remained, silent, shrouded in shadows, under trees that left her shivering and frightened. Finally, she rose and almost walked away, but then paused at the edge to the godswood.

The best we can, she thought, remembering rumors from the south that Robert would ride north soon. Let us pray it will be enough.

[queeranarchist]

uhhh every 5th q for the ask meme?

:O

5) What was the first time you suspected you were transgender?

uhhh first time i remember was when I cut my hair off - for an SPN Lucifer cosplay of all things - and was like hell yeah I look like a dude! Radical! and then was like oh that is not a very CisThought™️

10) What have your experiences with packing or wearing breast forms been?

you know i bought a pretty expensive packer and it was waaay too large despite being one of the smaller ones of that model - this was apparently a problem a lot of guys had and their were videos on how to cut it to make it fit but it cost a lot and i was too worried about ruining it - anyway i moved house three and a half times in six months and my stuff is currently in between two houses and I have No Idea where it is and in the back of my mind there is the constant fear that someone will find that dick 

15) What labels have you used before you’ve settled on your current set?

i’ve used pretty much every label sexuality wise bc attraction is weird. gender wise i ided as a trans man until last yearish and now im just like im queer in all senses

20) What do you wish you could have shared with your younger self about being trans?

prooobably a lot of gender abolitionist stuff like meets past self and just holds a reading group of Nobody Passes by Matt Sycamore - like i hate the transmed/truscum view point but i see that a lot of it is pushed by 15 year old trans guys and the whole wanting to be cis/as close to cis as possible and you can have pride in being LGB but not in being trans thing is pretty much how i experienced gender until last year where i was like time to make the Conscious effort to rework my thoughts, i didnt end up in the dysphoria discourse largely bc it wasnt a big thing when i first realised i was trans (lmao no trans issues were big things at that point) - in general i’d want to get myself to work on a more intersectional approach in terms of understanding that the gender binary is a western colonialist construct and that capitalism pushes queerphobia by wanting to minamalise community reliance and further their profit by pushing a nuclear child producing way of structuring relationships - basically get little me to turn all that angst and anger @ the system

25) What do you wish cis people understood?

that they arent the end goal, i detest the view they have that trans people should be glad to be told that they look like a “”””real”””” women/man - also that they dont need to understand, i dont give a flying fuck if they dont get how someone can identify differently to their assigned gender/be nonbinary/have a gender that changes, just use the right pronouns and name and be ya’know a decent person - and! that they dont need to know what “makes” someone trans and that that line of thinking veers dangerously towards eugenics

30) Who is the transgender person who has influenced you the most?

ahhh good question - i realised i was trans in a pre Caitlyn Jenner pre Orange is the New Black era so a lot of it was just me figuring out shit on my own - which gotta say wasnt necessarily a bad thing bc more visibility has also lead to more bulshit

I would probably say Matt Sycamore - the first book i read that was edited by her was Why are Faggots so Afraid of Faggots and like the queer radicalism and like anarchy from that helped me figure out and voice some of my disquiet with queer assimilation stuff and also the big We Won the marriage campaign queer stuff is Done mood that was 2017 after Australia’s same sex marriage plebiscite. her book Nobody Passes which focuses purely on gender stuff also follows a similar vein and its very very good

35) How do you feel your gender interacts with your race, disability, class, weight, etc. from the perspective of intersectionality?

outside of queer stuff i fit into a pretty privileged life, defs gonna say class played a major noticeable role in being able to get hormones despite having to go through a whole court process (pretty sure the government being the Worst to baby me is what made me an anarchist) and get top surgery pretty quickly once out of high school, my whiteness also provides a certain protection when you see the much higher rates of violence at trans POC, and I'm also able to access queer events and spaces without having to consider accessibility etc

40) How did/do you manage waiting to transition?

mmmm honestly at the time it was the worst and looking back on it i am still very angry and bitter at both my school and, you know, the government in general

i did the whole im trans use the right name and pronouns @ the school people (with my parents there so they couldnt use that as an excuse) about nine months before they started doing so AND this was also after my parents flat out ignoring that I was trans for months before that and i did not uuhhh deal well with any of that mentally At All. my school was pretty much like yll be bullied we cant as if every kid i interacted with didnt already know - and when they eventually did it wasnt a big deal with kids - i only heard second hand about some shit that was said about me which gotta admit was kinda laughable bc i had people i barely knew tell me what people in my grade had said and i was like….dont know who that is but Okay - i was too out of the gossip loop to have anything to be upset about 😂 also i had two (2) teachers in the entire school that used the correct pronouns despite me fully out for near three years by the time i left school tho i didnt actually recognise how bad that was for me until i left high school and was like ???? dont want to die all the time ?? what is this

medically was also bulshit bc the australian system used to have anyone under 18 have to go through court to get HRT, it took me nearly three years and was incredibly fucked and even tho the laws been changed now i am still ready to throw down with whoever implemented it in the first place even tho their probably old and close to death themselves

ANYWAY in terms of providing a better answer than i didnt and was v sad and angry for a v long time - i surrounded myself with queer people, i ventured into the city for some youth queer groups, went to a camp purely for young queer people, read a lot of books about trans people etc 

Ask me questions ~

http://queeranarchist.tumblr.com/post/183686207345/datgenderqueerboi-trans-ask-game-what-has

[pokemagines]

guzma, sycamore, lysandre & colress + mute s/o hcs

ask: Guzma, Sycamore, Lysandre, and Colress with a mute s/o hc?

a/n: I Memed This Ask. also, it got horribly long, so after guzma’s there’s gonna be a read more so it won’t take up so much space on the blog!! signed, mod elesa. ps rip mobile users

guzma

when guzma first met you, he thought you were just a quiet kid. you reminded him eerily of those twins, Sun and Moon.

so, after endless hours of trying to get a word out of you, he starts getting angry. he thinks you’re mocking him by not answering his questions, when in fact, it’s quite the opposite. he’s ready to throw hands when you start signing frantically to him. please don’t hurt me.

thinking you’re throwing up gang signs, he looks at you, confused. it clicks after a moment of your panicked breathing and his brain putting two and two together... “you a mute?” you nod, and it’s like a weight has been lifted from his shoulders.

since guzma doesn’t know a lick of alolan sign language, he resolves to assigning hand gestures and head nods as a form of communication so he can understand you. at first, you laugh at his outlandish sign for “i’m hungry” when, in fact, it meant “tauros shit”...      + “how the hell was i supposed ta know it meant ‘tauros shit’?! i’m no linguist! hey, stop laughing!”

while he was uncomfortable with the idea of silence, he soon realized mute people make noises just like regular people do. they just can’t... conversate. he found that out after you spilled hot tapu cocoa on your favorite shirt, and also after the two of you had-- “hey, keep it pg in there!” hau yells in the distance.

guzma: what the fuck are you trying to say to me [y/n]

you: [signing furiously] U R M O M G A Y

guzma: FUCK YOU GOT ME AGAIN

sycamore

augustine’s first encounter with a mute person was... well, with you. safe to say, his good looks couldn’t really save him the embarrassment he must’ve caused you when he flirted with you at the supermarket and you couldn’t really... say much. of course, he had assumed you were just speechless he was talking to you — but you can’t be speechless if you can’t even speak, can you?      + “oh, ma cher, am i bothering you? you haven’t spoken a word to me this entire time.” you’re clenching the cold pack of Krabby to hopefully calm down the blush on your face, but you’re pretty sure that only makes it worse. “do you not talk to strangers? i don’t usually give out my number, but you seem so interesting i don’t think i’ll regret it.” he leaves you be after registering the number in your pokedex, and you immediately text him.      + i’m mute. that’s why i didn’t say anything to you. he’s in the checkout line and the look he gives you is one of pure horror and mortification of what he just did.

you make it a goal of yours to tease him about it every time you two go to the supermarket. somehow, his faux-paus ended up with an apology dinner, you offering your guest bedroom to him, him cuddling you as a form of apology and you panicking, red-faced, at the intimate contact.

a part of you doesn’t believe he’s actually a pokemon professor, but when he shows you his lab, you realize... wow. this guy actually has a brain. he’s genuinely intelligent, attractive, and... would you call him funny? i mean, he can’t seem to take jokes at his expense very well, so... perhaps not.

sycamore is more than willing to learn kalosian sign language to communicate with you. you had no knowledge of his understanding of sign language prior, so when he signs a deliberate “how are you doing this morning?”, you assume he knows what he’s doing.      + “m-ma cherie, i don’t know what you’re signing! i only learned that this morning to try and impress you!” oh. that definitely makes more sense. you snicker and sign at him, amateur. he has to search it up on Voila to know what it means... you can’t help the fit of giggles when he yells down the hall of the lab, “YOU CALLED ME AN AMATEUR?”

in comparison with everyone else, sycamore is relatively silly and lets his guard down when he’s around you. it’s initially why you thought he was a total bag of rocks, only to find out he’s one of the greatest minds in the kalos region. a part of you feels special that he only shows this side to you — another part wishes he would use that intelligence of his to get a clue that you’re trying to ride his dick into the sunset, but hey. 

lysandre

lysandre has so many employees he doesn’t ever get to know them by name. he has an especially hard time remembering you at first because you’re so... plain. one thing that stands out to him is the fact that all you ever do is nod and smile rather than say dumb shit like his other employees.

the obedience is definitely a plus (or at least the appearance of obedience), as he knows he can count on you to get your job done. once you get promoted and you can sit in on executive meetings as a note taker, he always notices your subtle smirks and facial expression changes based off of what people are saying.      + you’re more than knowledgeable about what goes on in the lysandre company, so you’ve definitely formed an opinion or two. you shock lysandre one day after sending him an e-mail detailing why he shouldn’t approve funding for a new project until the pokedex has been ‘perfected.’       + when the new pokedex update is released, stocks shoot up and critics praise lysandre for somehow managing to achieve god-like levels of innovation. the next day, he approaches you at the office and nearly pulls you into a hug as he thanks you for the e-mail...

he realizes you can’t speak on the first date when you point silently to what you want on the lavish dinner menu rather than say it aloud, an action that strikes him as odd. “can you speak, [y/n]?” you shake your head, and his eyebrows raise. “mute?” you nod and point to your throat, as if saying vocal chords don’t work. he nods, understanding.

lysandre falls in love with you after a few months of knowing you, intrigued at how you get around without the use of speech. he even goes on a ‘cleanse’ of sorts to communicate exclusively in kalosian sign language so he could talk to you, something that makes you blush profusely.      + after all, it’s not every day where you’re sitting on an expensive couch and a gorgeous red-haired man signs at you, want to go to the bedroom? 

colress

although a man of many talents, he lacks a prowess for linguistics, despite putting it on his resume and claiming he’s fluent... the lie shows itself when you start working in the alolan lab with him, and you approach him and ask him a question. where exactly do we go to the bathroom if we’re in this cramped space? he stares at you, confused.      + don’t you know alolan sign language? he manages to get out something along the lines of an “uhhh” before you sigh, drop your hands and mouth ‘bathroom’ and ‘where’. he seems to understand you at that point and chuckles awkwardly, because... “well, there really is no bathroom around here...”

he confesses to you he doesn’t know a lick of ASL and you snicker, shaking your head as you go back to your work. colress makes you promise to not say anything to anyone, and you just shrug and continue your work. 

the first few weeks of knowing each other was nearly impossible to communicate. he would speak to you, asking complex questions and expecting you to somehow be able to communicate just as complex answers. how the hell were you supposed to do that without rudely gesturing for him to look through your microscope and your notes??? defeated, you resolved to handwriting your responses.

a few months of knowing each other and colress can finally communicate in understandable ASL, although he still asks for you to slow down when you sign too fast. it’s odd for the other lab workers, seeing the two of you move your hands and bodies to communicate, but they eventually learn to ignore it. 

you’re the only person in the office who makes colress nervous, mostly because his intellect is finally challenged. he’s never been the ‘weaker’ person, so to speak, so when he finds himself stumped on how to communicate with you... he makes an effort to learn how to.       + you’ve seen him nervous, you’ve heard him beg, you’ve watched him sweat profusely as he tries to understand your thought process without the aid of spoken word. it really brings people closer together, these panicked and stressful experiences.      + it takes a year and a half but when colress finally takes the opportunity to bed you, you end up domming him. a shocker, yes, as colress has never been one to completely submit to a partner, but... the mysterious air you give off during sex is enough to make his hands clammy and his dick harder than diamonds.       + “this is the only relationship i’ve had where there’s been a switch dynamic, [y/n]... you do crazy things to me, i must say.” you smile, cheeks rosy, and plant a kiss on his cheek.

[clefaiiiry]

we know how you feel abt cyrus, but what's your take on the other pokebosses, like ghetsis or giovanni?? if you don't mind sharing

STRAP IN GUYS, GALS, AND NB PALS:

Giovanni:

honestly the strongest villain narrative-wise. The biggest issue I have with villains in Pokemon is that they don’t really tie into the player’s goals and therefore are not true counter-forces to the player. Giovanni, being a Gym Leader and therefore an obstacle to prevent you from finishing your main quest, is the most effective boss as a result.

But I haven’t finished playing Blue on the 3DS port and I barely watched the anime so my only real exposure to Giovanni directly is via Generations and his limited appearances in HGSS and USUM.

Although I love Silver and seeing him try so hard to distance himself from Team Rocket and his father’s legacy is really interesting and creates great drama aha.

Archie:

water dad is best dad. He really feels like a cool science teacher, honestly. He tries to convince you to back off but he knows you’re gonna come after him so just tries to have fun with it.He almost makes me think of McCree from Overwatch; super smart and could totally kick your ass but has mastered the art of pretending to be an idiot so people lower their guard around him.

As much as I love his design in ORAS, he really is over-designed to the point that it’s kinda distracting. I want to stress that I love his character and I personally really like the design but it’s still kinda… yeah…

And honestly his goals are so ridiculous??? “Humans are assholes so I’m gonna fuck over every other Pokemon species that can’t survive in water.” Archie, honey, I know you’re trying, but please think this through a little more.

Maxie:

i aim for maxie’s level of extra. Seriously, he decorates his base with GLOWING DEADLY LAVA TUBES just for aesthetic. He needs to scare off a kid who’s messing with his plans? “I’ll bury you with my bare hands, don’t test me, you little shit.” Also his voice in Generations is really gooooooooooooood………

And his design is really good??? In ORAS at least. Like, his TURTLENECK LEGGINGS + SHORTS COMBO are fucking stupid, but overall it’s pretty decent. In RSE he looks like he’s about fifty and struggling to get through his eighth mid-life crisis.

HIS PLAN IS EQUALLY SILLY. “I’ll make Groudon increase the power of the sun so that the oceans dry up!” That’s… That’s not even slightly how it works, Maxie, for God’s sake, you’re a scientist, you should know this.

not gonna talk about cyrus because i ramble about him enough already lmao

Ghetsis:

FUCK THIS GUY HOLY SHIT I HATE HIM SO MUCH HE’S SUCH A GOOD BADDIE BUT HOLY GOD I HATE HIM. His Hydreigon (which is hacked btw because Hydreigon don’t evolve until level 64) has a full-powered Frustration and is probably the reason he’s missing an arm… or at least it’s so fucked-up that he keeps it under that carpet he calls a cape.

BUT GOD HE’S SUCH A PIECE OF SHIT. The way he talks to N makes me so angry. I legit had to stop playing to calm down when I played through the first time. He reminded me way too much of personal issues that I won’t delve into here but yikes.

He’s also kinda over-designed but that’s more just me trying to find issues with him so I can hate him more lmao. As if the list of reasons wasn’t long enough.

Lysandre:

talk about wasted potential. I have no idea if he’s utilized better in the anime but in the games he’s probably the weakest boss we’ve had so far? He complains about why humanity is making the world ugly but we’re never shown what happened to him to make him think that way??? He’s just some rich asshole who’s mad that things aren’t the way he wants them to be??? You wanna join his squad of people who wanna make the world pretty? Sure! Just pay £1 million or whatever it was…

And he has history with Professor Sycamore??? Why couldn’t we explore that? That would’ve been way more interesting than the 72 extra side characters we had in Kalos who didn’t really do anything??? Why do we have so many side characters when we have barely developed our main antagonist???

I will say this much though, his suit is fucking great, 10/10, who is your tailor? can I hire them? damn son…

Guzma:

IT’S YA BOI. I love him??? So much??? He really cares about his team but showing a soft-side kinda ruins the image he works so hard to maintain so he’s gonna be a grump about it. He’s trying so hard to look cool and tough and gain approval from others that he makes self-destructive decisions and ends up being manipulated into helping with some super shady multi-dimensional bullshit. Honestly same. But seriously, it makes me sad that he wasn’t expanded on as much as he could’ve been in USUM.

HIS DESIGN IS SO GOOD. It really represents him as a character perfectly. Also, any fanart that has him standing up straight to be taller than the other bosses is great, 10/10, I laugh every time.

I just want him to be my best friend, okay? Me, him, and Cyrus can go beat up shitty adults together. Dream Team.

Lusamine:

UUUUUUUUUUUUURGH. I have so many problems with how her character is handled in USUM. Look, obviously I’m not against redemption arcs, y’all know me too well by now, but I’m certainly against bad redemption arcs. Lusamine’s isn’t even an arc! She’s just… suddenly not evil and forgiven for all her shitty actions??? Lillie and Gladion both just forgive her for years of abuse because “it’s okay guys! she was being brainwashed the whole time!” It feels really shitty.

I would’ve been less angry about it if she hadn’t been instantly forgiven by her children and accepted that she may never be able to make it up to them, but she would still work to fix all she had broken and better the world. But nope! She just gets a free pass! With all due respect Game Freak, fuck off.

I like her hair though, I’ll give her that much, her stylist deserves a raise.

[johnhardinsawyer]

When You Hear Your Name

John Sawyer

Bedford Presbyterian Church

11 / 15 / 20

Luke 19:1-10

Psalm 51

“When You Hear Your Name”

(Pathways to Generosity – Part 3)

Have you ever been somewhere, and you think you hear your name being called by someone, and so you look around, excitedly, only to discover that whoever was calling your name wasn’t actually calling for you?  There have been times when I might hear someone say, “Hey, John!” and I look around, my heart all aflutter – with a “somebody wants to talk to me?” feeling.  And then, I see some other guy, apparently named “John” saying, “Oh, hey!” back to the person who called them in the first place.  But there have also been times – and maybe you have experienced this, too – when I have heard my name being called, unexpectedly, and I look around to find that I was actually the person whose name was being called.  And, when I have heard my name, and realized that it was my name, I have, in that moment, felt joyful and thankful just to be seen and known.

Now, there are some names that are more common than others, and so, this phenomenon happens to some people more than others.  But, let’s say that your name is not quite as common – a name like Zacchaeus, for example.  I mean, how many times – other than in today’s story from the Gospel of Luke – do we hear someone say, “Hey, Zacchaeus!”?

For the people of Jericho, the name Zacchaeus did not spark joy.  You see, Zacchaeus was a tax collector, the Chief Tax Collector of the region.  This position had all sorts of political and religious and social baggage associated with it.  Here was Zacchaeus, a local Jewish man who was in charge of collecting taxes for the occupying Roman Empire.  Through his job, Zacchaeus was funding the oppressive occupation of his own people.  Not only did his neighbors in Jericho consider him to be traitorous, he was also known to take more money from his neighbors than they actually owed the government and then pocket the difference.  Imagine someone else getting your tax refund year after year after year.  This made Zacchaeus very rich – likely, one of the richest men in Jericho – but it was wealth built on a foundation of dishonesty.  Perhaps, for Zacchaeus, all of that money took the edge off the fact that people disliked him.  But, money can’t buy everything you truly need.

In today’s story, we find Jesus passing through Zacchaeus’ town, on his way to Jerusalem.  As has been the case for Jesus for months now, wherever he goes, he draws a crowd of people.  “Hey John,” you might be wondering, “what is a crowd of people?”  Well, friends, before the Covid-19 pandemic, there used to be these things called “crowds” where people could gather together by the hundreds, the thousands, and nobody had to worry too much about spreading a virus.  Anyway, as Jesus arrives in Jericho, one of the most ancient cities in the world – a place where crops are brought to market, oil and spices are traded, and where palm and fruit trees grow along the road – crowds of people from the city come out to greet him.  And Zacchaeus joins the crowd, too.

As the text tells us, Zacchaeus “is trying to see who Jesus is.”  (Luke 19:3)  In the original language, Zacchaeus could just be trying to figure out which person in the crowd Jesus might be.  But, he also could be trying to figure out “what sort of a person”[1] this Jesus might be.  Is he really the prophet, the teacher, the healer that people have been talking about?  Or, is he just some man with a crowd of people around him, going from town to town?  Something – maybe curiosity, maybe something else – is drawing Zacchaeus toward Jesus.

When John Calvin writes about Zacchaeus going in search of Jesus, he says that there is clearly something holy at work:  

Some were led, no doubt, by vain curiosity to run even from distant places, for the purpose of seeing Christ, but the event showed that the mind of Zacchaeus contained some seed of piety.  In this manner, before revealing himself to [us], the Lord frequently communicates. . . a secret desire, by which [we] are led to him, while he is still concealed and unknown; and, though [we] have no fixed object in view, he does not disappoint [us], but manifests himself in due time.[2]

In other words, the Holy Spirit is already at work in our minds and hearts, and in Zacchaeus’ mind and heart – pulling him toward Jesus through the crowd.  But Zacchaeus has a problem.  When he joins the crowd to try to see who Jesus is, all Zacchaeus can see are the backs and shoulders of everyone else.  Zacchaeus is vertically challenged – he is short.  He can’t see through the crowd and definitely can’t see over them.  But, Zacchaeus, who has always proved to be resourceful in the ways he has made his fortune, comes up with a resourceful idea for how to see Jesus.

And so, as the story goes, Zacchaeus runs ahead of the crowd and climbs a sycamore tree – which is a fig tree that has large branches and big leaves.  According to one Bible scholar, the sycamore tree was often the source of food for people who did not have money to buy food.[3]  So, here is this rich man – Zacchaeus – hanging out in the branches of a tree where poor people – maybe even some of the people Zacchaeus has robbed over the years – might congregate.  And, now that he is sitting there in the branches of the tree, the crowd of people arrives with Jesus.  Imagine, if you will, being in the middle of a crowd where everyone is calling your name and wants to see you and talk with you, everyone wants to hear what you have to say and have you listen to them and their needs.  This is where Jesus finds himself.  And yet, somehow, in all of the confusion of the crowd – in the sea of needy and excited faces that surrounds him – Jesus looks up into a tree growing by the side of the road, and sees someone there among the branches.  “Zacchaeus,” he says, “hurry and come down; for I must stay at your house today.”  (Luke 19:5)

Just so you know, we are not told how it is that Jesus knows Zacchaeus’ name.  Maybe he has heard it among the people in the crowd – a name muttered, under-the-breath, with great derision.  Maybe his disciples or the local synagogue leaders have clued him into the influential people in Jericho and/or the people who are causing problems for everyone else.  But maybe, as Calvin suggests, there is something deeper and holier going on, here. . .  Maybe, when it comes to Zacchaeus, Jesus just knows – knows his name and everything about him.

It sure seems like Jesus does know, because he up and invites himself to Zacchaeus’ house.  So, Zacchaeus climbs down from the tree, and moves through the hostile crowd, filled with the neighbors that he has wronged, and he is happy to welcome Jesus into his home.  This does not please the people, though, who all grumble and say, “Jesus is going to be the guest of one who is a sinner – the guest of a traitor, a thief, a man who uses the power of the empire against us.”

You know, there are those who believe that politics should be kept out of the pulpit, but it should be noted, here, that Jesus is neck deep in the politics of his day.  The grace and welcome that Jesus shows Zacchaeus is enough to upset both the religious right who are all about purity, and the radical left who are all about justice, and everyone in the middle who just don’t like Zacchaeus for taking their money.  Nobody likes Zacchaeus. . .  Nobody, except Jesus. . .  And Jesus lovesZacchaeus.

I don’t know if anyone else in the crowd sees the great love that Jesus has for Zacchaeus – a love that looks beyond his faults and his sins, a love that only sees the goodness that God has planted at the heart of every person.  But Zacchaeus catches a glimpse of this love, and suddenly – standing in the middle of the angry crowd in front of the only person who loves him – the Holy Spirit does something to him.  The grace of God breaks Zacchaeus’ heart open to reveal the love and goodness of God that have been there all along.  “Look, Jesus,” he says, “half of my possessions, I will give to the poor; and if I have defrauded anyone of anything, I will pay back four times as much – way more than what the old laws of Moses say I should.”[4]  Zacchaeus has heard Jesus call him by name – he has heard Jesus welcoming himself into Zacchaeus’ life and home and heart.  And in this moment of extravagant grace, of being recognized and called by name – filled with the thrill of being seen and known and loved – Zacchaeus’ first response is extravagant generosity.

There is this passage in the Book of Isaiah, in which the Lord speaks to people whose lives are full of challenge, and grief, and pain – and God says, “Do not fear, for I have redeemed you; I have called you by name, you are mine.”  (Isaiah 43:1) “Do not be afraid, for I have liberated you from whatever was binding you – whatever was harming you, whatever was holding you back from fully loving me.  I have claimed you and called you by your name. . .  Your name. . .  You belong to me.”  This is what Jesus is saying to Zacchaeus.  This is what Jesus is also saying to us.

The question is, how do we respond to this extravagant grace?  Just like it always was for Zacchaeus, the potential for good is always there – beneath the surface – present in our hearts and minds and souls.  But it is the love of God that breaks us open to reveal the good.  It is in coming to know that we are deeply loved by the One who created us, the One who frees us, the One who sustains our every breath, that draws us deeper into a life that is lived, not for ourselves, but for God. . . and for others.  This is the life of discipleship – the life of saying “Yes” to the One who has given us all things.

Whether we know it or not, there is always something holy that is drawing us toward Jesus.  And, in this season of Stewardship, as we reflect on what God has given us, and what kind of disciples God is calling us to be, there is always room for more, on our part – more growth, more trust, more generosity, more openness to God’s grace, more room for Jesus.  Jesus is always inviting himself over into our lives and into our hearts.  He is always calling us by name.

How many times in your life have you heard someone say your name?  Ten thousand times?  Hundreds of thousands of times?  A million times?  Most of these times, I’d guess, have been fairly routine.  But I am sure that there are some times when you have heard your name and it has meant more – when your name is said and has been filled with all of the fullness of love that is possible.  This is how Jesus is saying your name in every moment of your life.

How will you respond when you hear your name?

In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.

-------

[1] Walter Bauer, A Greek-English Lexicon of the New Testament and Other Early Christian Literature (Chicago:  University of Chicago Press, 1979) 819.

[2] John Calvin, Calvin’s Commentaries – Vol. XVI – Harmony of Matthew, Mark, and Luke (Grand Rapids:  Baker Books, 2009) 434.

[3] Watson E. Mills, et. al, Mercer Dictionary of the Bible (Macon:  Mercer University Press, 1990) 979. Norm Yance, “Zacchaeus”.

[4] See Leviticus 6, Numbers 5, and Exodus 22.  Paraphrased – JHS.

[kalosstarters]

One-shot: An Anniversary

Alain and Mairin (once again) dealing with the ghosts of their pasts 7 years after the events of the Flare incident.

I was writing something entirely different (that all of you get so see pretty soon), when I started feeling that I _need_ to write something Marisson-y. I just miss those two too much. I’m not sure if I’m 100% satisfied with the ending, and I know I have dealt with this topic several times before, but... yolo, I guess? Anyway, this one is dedicated to the birthday girl @modeststroke who has deserved all the goodness she can get! Go tell happy birthday to her! (Hey, your prompt is here!)

Oh and if anyone wonders what Mairin sounds like while singing, this should give you a pretty good idea. It’s her voice actress singing.

It was exactly seven years since the end of the Team Flare incident. It had become a tradition that people shot fireworks on that day to celebrate becoming free of the evil organization, but there were two people in Lumiose City who didn’t appreciate that gesture at all. The fireworks only reminded them of the events that had let to that incident, and it was something neither of them wanted to remember. Those who knew the two knew better than to participate in the celebration, and they tried their best to keep the day as normal as possible for their sake.

Alain was hiding in the basement of Professor Sycamore’s lab, flinching every time he heard a bang caused by the fireworks. Right after a particularly big bang somewhere nearby, Mairin arrived in the room, carrying a tray with some food on it. She quickly noticed Alain wasn’t being his usual self, and put the tray down on the table.

“Hey? Are you OK?” she asked carefully, knowing Alain might snap if she accidentally said something that might trigger him in a moment like that.

“I think you know…” he said quietly, not even turning to look at her.

“It’s just as awful to me. I was there to see it too.”

“Mairin, you weren’t the reason why he got that energy to do… that… You didn’t see your friend and his Pokémon being tortured right in front of you… You didn’t help to capture the Zygarde core…” Alain argued, though the usual fire in his voice was gone.

“Maybe not, but Alain, I’m going to ask you one question: would you have done any of that, had you known?”

“Of course not!” he got angry even thinking about it.

“See, that’s what matters! I’ve talked about Lys... him with Professor Sycamore who knew him better, and guess what? I realized that he could have manipulated basically anyone. You were simply the unfortunate one who happened to be on his way when he happened to need someone to do the dirty work for him! Don’t act like you were responsible for everything that happened because you were not.”

“But…” Alain tried to disagree, but was stopped quickly.

“No buts! I just… wish there was a way to make you understand this. No matter how many times we talk about it… it always comes back to this.”

Another firework blasted off outside the lab in that moment, and Mairin closed her eyes for a moment, trying to brace herself.

“Arceus, I really hate those fireworks… It reminds me of… you know…”

“Yeah,” Alain sighed, and seeing Mairin so fragile in that moment made him realize that she was just as afraid of them as he was. She simply was better at hiding it. While he had been hiding in the basement, she had helped Professor Sycamore normally, even though her heart must have been racing really hard… He knew the Professor would have understood if Mairin had said she isn’t feeling well, but she hadn’t.

“But… while they… the fireworks, I mean… are awful… I’m trying to remember that if it hadn’t been for you, and the people and Pokémon who helped us… there wouldn’t be fireworks at all. This region might not exist at all. That’s how I cope with them. No, I know what you are about to say, don’t even try!” Mairin gave Alain a warning look, and he stayed quiet.

“You played a big part in saving this region, and you also saved my dear Chespie, and I will forever be grateful for that! I couldn’t care less what led to that point, I know that was not the real you. You said it yourself, you wouldn’t have done it if you had known. I don’t want to see you beat yourself for something like that, ever,” she ended her speech, and the boy looked at her in awe. While Mairin wasn’t afraid of disagreeing with Alain, the fire she had in her eyes was different from what she had shown before. She had grown.

“When have you become so… strong?”

“I guess hanging out with you had forced me to become that way,” she showed him her tongue. So much for the growing. Alain just shook his head a bit and rolled his eyes.

“No, honestly, I have just become better at hiding my feelings. Want to hear how I calm myself down when I’m upset?”

“Well?” Alain was a bit curious. This is something he hadn’t heard before despite knowing Mairin for a long while.

“I sing!” she announced, looking a bit embarrassed about her confession.

“And that helps?” Alain asked, surprised. He hadn’t heard her sing before.

“Yes. I always seek some calm place when I’m not feeling well and sing a song my mother sang to me… I don’t have that many memories of her, but that song I will always remember.”

“What’s the song about?”

“Well, I think it’s just some old children’s song, but it’s about two friends who go through some tough times, but always stick together, no matter what.”

“Really? Did you just make that up or…?”

“No, that is actually what the song is about. Now that you mentioned it, it is kinda suitable to our situation too,” Mairin smiled weakly.

“Would you… like to sing it now?”

“Now? Uhh…” she blushed at the unexpected request, but then decided: “Fine. But I’m not a very good singer, so bear with me…”

Mairin started singing in a soft and clear voice, and soon she forgot all about the loud fireworks that people were still shooting. She didn’t even notice that the black haired boy next to her started shaking slightly as he recognized the song. He had also heard it as a child, when his biological parents were still alive. When the song reached a particularly high and beautiful part, he finally gave up his inner battle and let a few tears fall on his cheeks.

Mairin opened her eyes as she finished the song and was surprised to see Alain that emotional. Even though he had learned to open up with her a bit more, he still rarely let her see him cry.

“Oh… I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to make you…” she said apologetically.

“It’s OK,” he answered after taking a deep breath and wiping his tears away quickly. “In some weird way that was kind of refreshing. I haven’t felt like that in years.”

“Then I’m glad,” she reached to wipe some wetness that was left on the corner of his eye, and gave him a gentle kiss on his jaw. Alain was dumbfounded for a moment, but when she pulled away and sat down next to him, he wrapped his arm around her shoulder. They started to talk about the good things the song had made them remember from their childhood and sat like that for a long while, not caring about the fireworks anymore.

[changeling-fae]

Paper Melody

So this is the first chapter of my Phantom of the Opera fic which was basically written out of spite because of Love Never Dies.

I get really angry when I think of how PotO’s ending was broken into shards of glass in LND’s plot, namely with what ALW did to our three main characters (and Meg).

This is not a E/C (although I do ship them) and instead focuses on Erik’s ability to grow and find love elsewhere since his lesson in PotO was putting Christine’s happiness above his own. Christine and Raoul will play big parts in later chapters because they deserve happiness too dammit.

Really my biggest grievance with LND’s is that Erik wasn’t allowed to grow as a character or person when that sort of was the big deal of the finale of PotO. My other major grievance was that Christine and Raoul weren’t allowed happiness when that’s what they fought for (also screw ALW for fridging female characters for male characters man pain).

I’ll admit, I’m really nervous about publishing this because I’ve never written an OC for an already existing story and don’t know how it’ll be received. I’m totally open to comments or questions though! The PotO 25th are the trio I envision for this.

So here it is.

And Ao3 link here.

The Phantom had assumed he would fade from the world, a lost broken soul in the same vein of his title, an echo of something long since dead. Christine Daae had left with her lover, the Vicomte, and he let her go, her happiness more important than his loneliness and despair.

He thought about just ending it all, killing himself and letting his corpse rot on the cold cobblestone for the rats to eat. He came close several times, after all what did he have to live for? Christine was forever out of his life and his music was nothing but a hollow echo in his mind.

He wanted to end it and yet, instead he found himself in England, assuming the identity of a reclusive noble who happened to share the same first name. He was now Erik Fontaine, a wealthy Frenchman who lost his family in a fire and was the only survivor as a boy. The man was then not seen for nearly twenty years and had committed suicide recently unbeknownst to the rest of the world thanks to the few underground connections the Phantom took pains to keep.

It was then easy enough to forge signatures, pay the right undertakers, and with the money he had been saving from extorting the Opera House, was able to buy a modest estate outside of London. He should just end it all but instead he’ll let himself fade quietly into obscurity.

He hired only one servant, an old blind man who spoke very little named Oliver, and very rarely saw the man.

Erik caressed the keys of the piano in front of him but he could not bring himself to play anything. In all his years of loneliness he could conjure some form of music but now it was too painful, memories of Christine always at the forefront of his mind. Still, he persisted an attempt every day with little success or worse, he’d sometimes find himself singing Think of Me like some curse that he could not escape.

The mask concealing his face was black now and he only wore it on the rare times he stepped outside, despite his property being fairly isolated. There was one other estate across the way, separated by a long old graveyard that used to share two long dead families. Perhaps a walk through the silent stone garden would inspire something…

He adjusted his mask and grabbed his cloak, stepping foot into the dreary grey of day. He had lived so long under the Opera House that even the cold grey sky seemed too bright but he continued forward into the graveyard, death and solitude at least something familiar.

Stone angels with serene expressions stared down at him as he passed by, triggering memories he’d sooner like to forget. Lost in his own thoughts he was startled when he turned a corner and came upon a young woman sitting on the steps of a mausoleum.

Long, blonde, loose curls sat around her face in disarray, as if it had once been done up but instead had been torn from its confines to lay wildly without order. Her skin was fair and her cheeks rosy from the cold air as her hands nimbly worked on paper flowers, unaware of his presence.

He would almost mistake her for a servant girl or lower with how undone her appearance was, her sleeves were pushed high up and there were tears in her stockings, she wasn’t even wearing a corset, but the clothing’s quality was too high and her skin too fair to be anything but upper class.

As if finally sensing she was no longer alone, her eyes shot up directly into his, revealing a soft grey-ish green like a lunar moth’s wing, and she leapt to her feet, scattering her flowers to the ground. She looked like she was hesitating to leave them but still she darted away before he could say or do anything.

She ran in the direction of the other estate and after a few moments of waiting to see if she would return, he stepped to her scattered flowers. He picked them up, noting they were nothing but wormwoods and marigolds in design, a rather strange combination.

He gently placed them back on the grave in case she returned for them and headed back to his own home.

He ate supper in solitude as he had for decades, the only difference now being he had Oliver lurking there in the background but he hadn't really hired the man for his conversation. He then retired to his library hoping maybe something would draw his interest but every book he picked up was just filled with lines without meaning to him.

After hours of suffocating silence and hurtful memories, he went to sleep and once again had a fitful slumber as his nightmares haunted him, filled with Christine and that fateful night he let her go. He awoke in a cold sweat, gasping for breath, the side of his deformed features burning from memory of his rejection.

Erik glanced out the window, the soft rays of a cold morning seeping in, filling the room with little warmth.

He really should just end it.

But once again as the day progressed and no music formed from his hands, he found himself in the graveyard again.

When he approached the spot the girl had been in earlier, he noted the flowers were gone and instead a wooden figurine was in its place.

Curiosity had him step closer, the figurine appeared to be a beautifully handcrafted angel holding a bouquet of white clovers, sycamore, and spiderwort, each petal carved with great detail.

Once again it was a strange flower combination but he could not deny the craftsmanship, even the painting over the wood was done with gentle loving care.

The irony that it was in the shape of an angel did not escape him but he was standing in a grave so it was hardly out of place.

He set it back down, having a feeling it was the girl who placed it here and assumed she was leaving it for a deceased love one.

At least he thought that originally, until he found it at the entrance of the grave on his side, facing his estate the next day.

Curious. Why give this to him? She had seemed startled and frightened when he came upon her those two days ago. Perhaps she was merely a bored noble who thought it a fun game.

Well he was done with games and tricks and shadows, he would return this back to where she originally placed it.

He did not expect her to be there, once again sitting in her spot with her disheveled appearance and once again making flowers out of paper.

He stood there awkwardly with it in his hands before clearing his throat to gain her attention.

She did not acknowledge him and he now spoke, "Mademoiselle, is this yours?"

She stopped briefly and pushed a red paper carnation to him before resuming her work. Not once did she look up but her heel was now tapping against the stone ledge she was sitting on.

He frowned, " Mademoiselle, I'd rather not play games, will you take this back?"

Once again she stopped, only this time to push a yellow paper carnation in his direction.

Maybe she was simple?

Before he could decide what to do next with the strange girl she stood up and approached him, her eyes fluttering in various directions but never directly at his face, and she handed him a paper bouquet of garden daisies.

He took it in surprise and she quietly walked away back to her estate, a bit of a skip to her step leaving him confused and a little intrigued.

It was this strange exchange sparking his curiosity, that had him returning the next day and the following day after that; finding her a welcome distraction from his grief although he knew better now than to get attached. It was merely curiosity that brought him back each day where he would find her sitting with her false flowers.

Sometimes he would try and ask her questions but she never responded except to sometimes give him her flowers. Most of the time it was just him standing awkwardly in her presence while she worked but he got the strange sense that she liked him being there. He didn't even know her name.

The irony that he was no longer the mysterious figure did not escape him and after a week and a half of this exchange he decided to call upon her estate.

It was a horrible idea that could easily backfire on him if he was not careful but a fellow noble who was the victim of a tragedy was a story other nobles could tolerate, as opposed to the reality of a deformed man being born with a defect to a poor woman on the streets.

His mask was black and nondescript and he himself a master at charm and deflection, this just being another role for him to play. It was a bad idea but he could pull it off, he just wanted to know who she was.

He approached the servant at the door with a nod of his head and the lie on his tongue, "I am Erik Fontaine, I sent a note this morning, I live across the way and wanted to finally introduce myself. Is the Lord or Lady of the House here?"

The servant nodded and let him inside, "Yes, the Lady Charlotte Hyde is always welcoming of guests, I shall let her know of your arrival. One moment please."

Lady Charlotte Hyde? Was that her name?

He did not have to wait long and was soon led into a sitting room where an elderly woman sat. She was clearly a woman of great wealth and standing but obviously not the mysterious girl he hoped to see.

The aged woman smiled while her grey eyes darted to his mask a couple of times, and she stood to curtsy as he took her hand with a bow in greeting.

"Mr. Fontaine, is it? It is a pleasure to finally meet our new neighbor. I had sent a footman to call upon you when you first moved in but I believe your butler stated you were not one for company."

He had a vague recollection of that but he didn't show it, instead smiling with an apologetic bow.

"A crime of my nature that I'm trying to fix actually. I apologize if I caused any offense, my move from France has simply been a long one."

She sat down and gestured for him to do the same with a wave, "Oh I took no offense, I'm merely surprised and delighted that you decided to pay us a visit."

"Us, Madame?" He inquired.

"She means us, good sir." Two more men entered, a portly man with a red face and a younger man with chiseled features, easily considered handsome and uncomfortably reminded him too much of Raoul.

Lady Hyde motioned to them, "My late husband’s brother-in-law, Charles Moore and his nephew, Henry Whitman."

They all stood and bowed to each other before sitting.

Maybe the girl was a servant after all but before he could ask he felt the young man's uncomfortable stare at his mask. He turned to stare back, his features set in an amiable expression, his brown eyes fixed on the man’s blue.

Henry grinned with a swagger and tapped his own face, "Headed to a masquerade my friend? I know the French can be a bit theatrical but I can tell you that the English are a bit duller than that."

"Do not be rude Henry," Lady Hyde scolded.

Erik just simply smiled as if it didn't bother him, "While I'll not disagree with you on the assessment of my countrymen, I'm afraid this mask has tragedy attached to it, you see my house perished in a fire when I was a boy and I was the only survivor. This mask is to keep everyone's sensibilities in place I'm afraid, my friend."

Emphasis was put on the last words as the lie came easily and Henry merely quirked a brow.

Lady Hyde spoke up, "Oh you poor man, what an awful tragedy. Well you are most welcome here should you desire company or the latest news from the city. I hardly leave thanks to my health so I always welcome gossip from these two."

Henry scoffed, "It's not only your health that keeps you here."

Lady Hyde sighed but did not dispute it, "You know she cannot handle outside society, she is delicate."

This time Charles spoke with an unamused snort, "Delicate is not the word I would use for her."

Erik cleared his throat, "It is not my business but is there another in the house?" Was it her?

Lady Hyde looked like she just remembered he was still here and cleared her own throat, "Hm, yes. My granddaughter Lilian Walden, she has lived with me since my daughter and son-in-law died over a decade ago."

"And she's a bit of a loon." Henry joked, not at all deterred by Lady Hyde's scolding yet resigned expression.

She then turned to a maid, "Will you fetch Lilian and Mrs. Foster please."

A few moments passed until the girl was walked out with a middle-aged woman (who uncomfortably reminded him of Madame Giry), holding her in place by the shoulders.

It really was his mystery girl and yet he couldn't help but note how uncomfortable she appeared before them, she was actually wearing a corset for one thing and her hair was done up tightly but every time she reached to pick at it, the woman behind her forced her hands down.

Mrs. Foster forced her to curtsy when he stood to greet her and the girl, Lilian, made a small noise of protest, the first sound he’s ever heard from her.

Lilian didn't look at anyone in the room and her eyes darted everywhere like a dragonfly as she kept reaching up to mess with her hair or scratch at her corset, only to be thwarted by Mrs. Foster's hands. She looked like a trapped animal wanting to flee even if it meant chewing off her own foot.

Lady Hyde's voice was gentle, "Lily, this is our new neighbor Mr. Erik Fontaine, can you say hello to him?"

Lilian didn't say a word, just clenched and unclenched her hands in an attempt not to pick at herself. He noticed her hands were covered in splinters and paper cuts, some new and some old.

Still, he gave another small bow, "It is a pleasure, Mademoiselle."

Silence.

"Oh, come now, girl! Surely after all these years you can at least manage a hello?" Charles’ voice boomed out.

Lilian flinched at the sudden loud sound and Erik felt such a wave of pity for the nervous creature in front of him that he regretted coming here and putting her through this.

Lady Hyde sighed and gave Lilian a tired smile, "It is alright my dear, Mrs. Foster will take you back to your room now."

She immediately ran out the room, yanking herself from Mrs. Foster grasp who chased after her and once she was gone Charles shook his head, "You're wasting money with that tutor, she'll never be part of civilized society. You should just have her committed, the doctors will know what to do with her."

Erik had to bite his tongue, he knew exactly what doctors did to patients in asylums. Instead he asked a question, “It is not my business but what afflicts her?”

Lady Hyde suddenly looked even older than she did before as she sighed, “The doctors don’t quite know, although they have plenty of theories. She never speaks, not even as a child save maybe a few times when her parents were alive, even though her vocal cords are perfectly healthy…”

Charles spoke up, “Also she throws the largest fits if you touch her, she even bit me once when I touched her shoulder, right on the hand.” He gestured to said hand which has long since healed.

Henry chuckled, “And that’s only the start of it all, other children used to call her a hobgoblin when we were kids, that a witch or troll stole the real Lilian and put an imp in her place.”

“Come see the Devil’s Child,” Erik’s fist clenched on his knee.

Charles just snorted, “She’s just touched in the head is all there is to it.”

Erik kept his tone light to hide his discomfort, "Does she ever leave the house?"

Lady Hyde shook her head, "Oh heavens no, she occasionally will walk in our garden with Mrs. Foster chaperoning but being outside gives her the fits. She mostly stays in her room making her flowers and wood carvings, and other projects, that seems to keep her calm."

Well, clearly, she was sneaking out away from prying eyes, something he could relate to. It also meant she wasn't quite as simple as her family believed.

Henry grinned, "I already said, dear aunt Charlotte, that I'd marry her and take her off of your hands."

Erik didn't like that grin and Lady Hyde just shook her head, "I know you are concerned but she is fine here."

After a moment of silence Charles let out a noise of bemusement, "Such a shame a pretty girl like that was made so odd in the head."

The topics switched after that and after another hour passed he headed back home, now knowing her name but feeling uneasy about her situation, an eerie similarity to his own albeit different too.

He went to bed early that night, pretending to be sociable taxed him emotionally, and he drifted off thinking about her clenched fists and wild eyes, followed by more nightmares of him and Christine.

She was not there in their usual spot the next day or the following three days after and he wondered if she were somehow angry with him.

It actually bothered him even though he told himself he wouldn't get attached. Well, he always was bad at lying to himself but mulling over her situation meant he wasn’t thinking about Christine as much.

He stared at the carved angel which he kept in his library now and perhaps it was pure luck when his eyes darted over to the titles in his collection of books where one title stood out. He leapt up and pulled the book down, scanning it quickly, confirming his sudden suspicion. He let out a small laugh, she wasn't simple at all, she had been speaking to him in the language of flowers.

He flipped through the pages, searching for her messages that she had been giving him. Sycamores meant curiosity, she had been curious about him. The white clovers meant Think of Me and he realized she must have heard him play it at times. Spiderwort meant momentary happiness and he realized she liked his music.

The carnations were literally yes or no and the marigolds and wormwood he found when they first met was her personal message of isolation. The bouquet of garden daisies she had given him when he had tried to return the wooden angel literally meant “I share your sentiments”, she was telling him that she shared his feelings of isolation and sympathized with it.

He sat back in his seat at the revelation that she had been speaking to him this entire time, he wondered if her family knew this was how she spoke but quickly dismissed the notion when he remembered how they talked to her.

He spent that night absorbing and memorizing the book and was already formulating what to do for tomorrow. He just hoped she would appear this time.

When the time did come, he was pleased to see her once more on her perch although instead of working on her flowers, she was rocking back in forth in her seat, eyes closed as if to block out the world around her.

“Lilian?”

She opened her eyes to a single purple hyacinth that he held to her. She stared at it for a moment as all rocking ceased. There was a moment of deafening silence as he waited to see if she would accept his apology, before the largest smile broke out across her face, so bright it was almost blinding.

She took it from him and for a brief moment her eyes purposely met his before darting back down and he knew he just experienced something infinitely rare.

She got up, spinning and twirling with her flower as her joy could not be contained and he realized he might be the first person to understand her way of speaking. He stared in slight wonder, he couldn’t remember if he had ever made anyone smile like that before, Christine had sometimes smiled for his words but rarely for his actions.

After a moment more of this, she finally calmed down and quickly picked up blue paper sheets from the stack she always brought with her, sitting in her usual spot as she deftly created flowers from practically nothing.

He watched in rapt fascination as she thrummed from excitement and within minutes she had created a small bouquet of blue periwinkles and offered it to him.

He blinked and gently took them from her, she was offering him friendship. He… couldn’t say he ever had a friend before; Christine had been his protégé and object of his affection, not his friend.

He didn’t know how to respond, in all honesty he was baffled. All his life he had been treated as lesser, a freak of nature who should have been drowned at birth, leading to his decades of crippling isolation and desperation for companionship which of course lead to him killing his relationship with Christine from said desperation.

He didn’t know how to be someone’s friend.

He murders all that’s good.

He took a step back and her smile died a little.

He didn’t say anything and her smile turned sad with a quiet resignation, as if telling him she too was used to being friendless and was resigned to his refusal. He remembered her family’s actions toward her and how they spoke about her, a creature to be pitied.

He knew what that sense of isolation does to a person (really, he was a cautionary tale on the result of it) and perhaps it is with this common ground between them that he can learn how to be a friend.

His next words had her give him a curious look, “Do you play any music?”

She handed him her yellow carnation, the carnations being something she kept on her at all times, the yellow meaning ‘no’.

He smiled a bit mysteriously, like a child with a secret, “Would you like to learn?”

She looked surprised and her hand went to her throat, causing him to shake his head, “I was thinking the piano might be something you’d be suited for, your fingers are already dexterous and flexible. It’ll leave less splinters and papercuts too.” He said dryly.

She looked down at her fingers and flexed them, as if she didn’t even realize she had cuts.

Her language was soft and he had a sudden desire for everyone to hear her, if they wouldn’t listen to her flowers then he would lend her his music.

“Having no voice doesn’t mean you have to be voiceless.”

She made eye contact at that and for a moment he actually thought he saw tears form before he felt another carnation placed in his hands. This time he broke eye contact to look down to see that it was red, yes.

He smiled as he clutched it, “Excellent.” Now to convince Lady Hyde. “Tomorrow I will ask your grandmother if I can tutor you.”

And if she says no… well, he’ll find a way.

Lilian looked up at him (well his chin) and gave him a small smile, squeezing his hand with her carnation before pulling back to head back home. She turned to give him one last wave leaving him feeling a sense of excitement in a way he hadn’t felt since he first met Christine.

[starlightiing]

I have this massive idea for like this...accidental confrontation fic where Green just spews all the shit he’s been bottling up about his grandfather and it’s like a special visitor that coaxes it out of him by accident ( steven stone, professor sycamore, ect) and Oak ends up walking in on the middle of it somehow and Green doesn’t realize so he just keeps going and going and going, gradually getting more angry and Oak is shocked out of his mind bc he had no idea that Green felt that way and then they’re forced to talk about it even tho Green acts like a butthole.

Now also imagine this in my pacemaker verse where Green died and Red saved his life. Well what Green NEVER knew about that....is that his heart stopped a second time at the hospital and there was emergency procedures that needed to happen and Oak did everything in his power to make sure Green got the best care, no matter the cost or sacrifice.

Just because Oak wasn’t there when Green woke up doesn’t mean he wasn’t there at all.

But that doesn’t make up for the neglect at all. It’s just something that's going to blow Green’s mind when he finds out about it.

[sage-nebula]

PokéAni - Immortality AU headcanons

I honestly want to re-write the one fic I have for this AU (in order to fix up some details that are either now incorrect, as well as add in things I forgot, like how Alan keeps Gabrielle after Sycamore’s passing), as well as write more fics for this AU (including and especially one showing Ash’s life after the events of all this), but since I don’t know when I’ll get around to all of that, I figured I’d go ahead and make this post real quick so that I can at least have details for this on my blog. (Plus, if I have the structure down, this means I can hop around in this AU and write fics for it wherever. I can refer to this as a masterpost if anyone ever has any questions.

So with that said . . .

The basic premise is that this would happen near the conclusion of the Flare arc. I first conceived this AU before the Flare arc finished, when all we had was an episode summary saying that Alan and Ash were going to head into the Megalith. Back then, I hadn’t yet realized what the Megalith actually was, and thought that it might have some connection to Xerneas due to its rainbow color (and because we were still speculating at the time that the ultimate weapon from the games was going to come into play somehow thanks to Lysandre). Now, however, I’ve realized that the Megalith was actually the meteorite that crashed in Hoenn eons ago and allowed the Draconids to get Rayquaza to mega evolve (since it served as a massive Key Stone, and thus reacted with Rayquaza’s innate ability to mega evolve thanks to Dragon Ascent), so that idea is kind of scrapped. However, I can still work with this. For the purposes of this AU, let’s say that Lysandre does still have his hands on the ultimate weapon, unbeknownst to anyone (save perhaps Xerosic and the other scientists), and was keeping it as a backup. When he loses control of Squishy and Z2 thanks to Bonnie (and therefore Plan A fails), he moves on to Plan B and relocates to Fleur-De-Lis Laboratories in order to put the ultimate weapon into place. Now, the Megalith still has to factor in somehow. In the actual arc, it activated thanks to the life energy Hari-san had absorbed from Squishy, thereby going crazy with roots and whatnot as it moved toward the Sundial in Anistar City. That can still happen, but perhaps that was a diversion. Lysandre set it up so that the Megalith would activate and head toward Anistar City, supposedly to wreak some kind of havoc and end the world, but in all actuality all that would happen is that there would be some more city destruction because on its own, the Megalith can’t do anything. It’s just a massive Key Stone, after all. Unless Rayquaza is there to mega evolve with it, no world ending is going to happen. Nonetheless, everyone is distracted and still goes after the Megalith as in canon, particularly since Hari-san is still trapped inside, and Alan made a promise to get Hari-san back for Manon. So all of that still happens. However, again, it was a diversion. While everyone else is doing that, Lysandre is preparing the ultimate weapon, which he can then use to cause mass genocide all on his own, without making Squishy or Z2 do it for him. Though he does need a legendary to power it, it’s possible that he has another Zygarde core (perhaps Z3?), or maybe there could have been something about how he found Yveltal and/or Xerneas, or at least their energy. Or maybe, and I like this idea even better, the real reason why he was already in Hoenn after sending Alan there to search for the Megalith was because he---unbeknownst to the rest of the TSME squad, Steven included---was having a business meeting with Steven’s father, the current CEO of Devon Corporation, and the result of that meeting was that Lysandre got his hands on enough raw Infinity Energy in order to power the ultimate weapon. Remember, the Infinity Energy that Devon Corporation canonically makes (according to the games) is the same exact energy that was used to power the ultimate weapon 3,000 years ago, made from sacrificed pokémon and all. (Well, it comes from the lives of dead pokémon, but that’s not to say Devon Corporation is necessarily sacrificing pokémon to make their technology. That said, the games also don’t say that they’re not doing that, so . . .) This means that if he had that Infinity Energy, he could power the ultimate weapon even if he didn’t have Zygarde, Yveltal, or Xerneas. I like this idea a lot better, particularly since it doesn’t require him to pull a legendary out of thin air. Let’s go with it. So Lysandre, while everyone else is busy stopping the Megalith, is powering up the ultimate weapon, possibly (probably) with Xerosic’s help, along with the other scientists (e.g. Celosia, Mabel) once he rounded them up from wherever they were. Once Hari-san is rescued and the Megalith stops, instead of Lysandre having his “surprise, bitch” moment by showing up actually on the scene, his “surprise, bitch” moment comes when someone picks up on a really frightening energy reading coming from near Geosenge Town. (I believe everyone might have already been near there, but I can’t remember if they said where the Megalith was, exactly, when they managed to stop it. They may have, but I’m not going to rewatch those episodes right this second to find out.) Lysandre perhaps hijacks everyone’s HoloCasters and other equipment again to make another announcement about his plans, this time adding that he has an ultimate weapon with which to carry them out (and at this point perhaps Sycamore can have a moment of horror as he realizes what this ultimate weapon must be, gives a brief history lesson to those who either aren’t native Kaloseans or else don’t know their history / lore), and thanks Devon Corporation for providing him with the energy to do it (as a “fuck you” to Steven, who definitely hates him now if he didn’t hate him before (and trust me, Steven hated Lysandre before, we have canonical evidence for this)). Of course, everyone is beyond horrified about this, and when whoever was picking up on these signals or energy readings or whatever pinpoints the location and gives the exact coordinates for where this is going down, Alan wastes all of .01 seconds before hopping on Lizardon’s back (FINALLY) to fly there and do something to stop it, because you know he would. (And so does everyone who knows him. Like, legit, Steven tells him to wait, Manon tells him he can’t, Sycamore is in shock, but does Alan listen to any of them? Nope. He and Lizardon are going to stop the director right now and you better believe that no one can stop him.) I don’t think that, even mega evolved, Lizardon could presently fit two people on his back . . . but Ash would still try, chasing after them and jumping to try to hitch a ride on Lizardon’s back. He falls, but Alan catches his wrist, and in the next second Lizardon grabs Ash (and Pikachu, of course!) in a tight bear hug, and off to the ultimate weapon they go. They arrive before the weapon is fired, and of course Lysandre has his gloat moment like in the games. Since the confrontation on Prism Tower borrowed dialogue from the games (the “what are you protecting? A tomorrow that is even worse than today?” line he gave to Alan, as well as his woe is me sob story about how people were greedy when he tried to help them and thus everyone deserves to die), more dialogue could be borrowed and put to use here, such as the “you did stop me fair and square, but I’m not going to stop because lmao you can’t always get what you want” bit, among other things. Lysandre would have healed his pokémon by this point, probably, so they could battle again, and once again Lysandre would lose (hopefully with Lizardon getting a win over that pyroar because tbh, he deserves it). Lysandre is mad, kind of, but in this case the battle would mostly be to stall as the ultimate weapon powers up. Lysandre still plans to fire it, but before he can, both Alan and Ash order attacks on it, and Lizardon and Pikachu follow through. While this doesn’t break the ultimate weapon entirely, it damages it enough so that it at least can’t fire on all of Kalos. And this time, Lysandre is truly angry, he’s truly enraged, and he lashes out at Alan in particular because, you know, Alan has been his abuse victim for the past two years, so why wouldn’t Lysandre lash out at him in retribution for his plans having failed? So there’s another verbal fight there (and also Ash speaking up because hey, Lysandre, shut up), but eventually it stops when Lysandre realizes that (as I said before) they didn’t break the ultimate weapon completely, it can still do something, and he starts laughing and says that even if he can’t unleash this on the world (as the world deserves), he can still use it on them. Alan realizes what’s happening and he says, “Ash, run.” “What? I’m not gonna run and leave you here,” Ash says, indignant. “Pika pika!” Pikachu agrees, equally indignant. “We can all get out!” Alan says, but he doesn’t really, completely mean that, because the fact that Lysandre is doing any of this at all is his fault (even if it was Infinity Energy and not mega evolution energy that he’s using for this particular portion of it, but details), and so if he dies that’s okay, but--- “Lizardon, take them and go.” “But are you actually going to follow?” Ash would ask, and Lizardon hasn’t moved either, because he knows. He knows. And Alan is so frustrated, but there’s no time--- And there really isn’t, because this little bit took maybe about three seconds, and that was enough for Lysandre to do what he was going to do, and what he did results in the ultimate weapon exploding in a burst of rainbow light, and that---that did it. That did the trick. See, in the games, his final gambit failed. The protagonist and other characters didn’t die (Y Version), nor were they cursed with immortality (X Version). But here, it doesn’t fail. No one dies (though Alan, Lizardon, Ash, and Pikachu are all unconscious and buried under rubble when they’re found), but they are struck with immortality. (Lysandre isn’t found, by the by. He’s not there when everyone else shows up to dig through the rubble and recover the human boys and their platonic soulmates. But he is immortal. He just had the good sense to get the fuck out of dodge before the police showed up.) But this isn’t something they don’t realize right away. How could they possibly know? It isn’t until later that, well . . .

First, as a disclaimer: I’m aware that the way immortality affected AZ was that he grew into a giant (though personally I think that’s just genes?) and did seem to age to some extent. But that said, it’s been 3,000 years and he still just looks like a really big old man, so I think it’s less that he just stopped aging at some point, and more that he was just already somewhat old when the immortality struck him, and so he’s just been frozen like that all this time. Floette also makes me feel that way, since she still looks perfectly young, like any other floette. So for the purposes of this AU, the immortality I’m saying they were struck with is the “stop aging as you are right now” type of immortality, so they won’t grow or physically age beyond that point. (With one exception, kind of. More on that in a second.)

A lot of the stuff that I had in the original fic I wrote for Alan still holds true. At first, no one knows that Alan, Lizardon, Ash, and Pikachu are immortal. This is because they have no real way of knowing, no one told them, and also because aging is slow, you know? Teenagers don’t show that much variation as they get older, once they’re older teenagers, so even though Alan doesn’t seem to change when he turns sixteen (shortly after all this), or seventeen, or eighteen, no one thinks much of it. But when he’s twenty-five, he looks the exact same as he did when he was fifteen, and Manon jokes about his moisturizer, like, how does he still look so young? And as he nears thirty and still looks like a teenager, well . . . Sycamore puts the pieces together a few years before that point (like, early 20s, maybe 23-24). He realizes that when the ultimate weapon exploded, there must have been some kind of reaction. And that’s when Alan leaves to find some way to end this, to stop it, because he doesn’t want to be immortal and outlive everyone he cares about, he doesn’t want this. (He’d probably sort of . . . not necessarily resign from being Champion, per se, but since he can’t do his duties while traveling like this he’d at least step down to an extent, and the day-to-day stuff would be handled by a standing Champion, kind of like what Lance did while Red was being a hermit on Mt Silver in the games. In this case, standing Champion would probably be Diantha.) 

That said, even if the non-aging stuff wasn’t as immediately apparent for Alan, for Ash? Whether we go with the idea that he was ten (as is canon) or thirteen / fourteen (as I prefer because it makes more sense), you’re still going to see a lot more variation in the next few years due to how kids are, you know, supposed to have growth spurts around this time. But Ash doesn’t. His voice doesn’t get any deeper, and he doesn’t grow, and at first he’s just really irate, because really? Really? He was already always pretty short for a boy his age, and he’s been looking forward to finally being taller than Misty (he plans to gloat so much), so when is his growth spurt coming, huh? When is this gonna happen for him? It’s not. It doesn’t. And when he gets to be about fifteen and he looks and sounds the same way he did when he was thirteen, he gets really alarmed. He’s alarmed enough to see doctors about it, but they have no idea what happened. And he asks Professor Oak, but Professor Oak doesn’t know either. Neither does Professor Kukui. For some reason he doesn’t think to ask Professor Sycamore (in fairness, Ash was never that close to Professor Sycamore), so they don’t talk about it, but he sees various people to see if they know why he’s just not aging, and no one knows, but most tell him not to worry. At least, they do when he’s fifteen. When he’s twenty and he still looks and sounds thirteen / fourteen (just let me have this), yeah, then they get concerned. But Sycamore had realized about Alan in Alan’s early-to-mid twenties, and to be honest around the time he does he might contact Ash himself to ask Ash how he’s doing, and when he sees that Ash still looks ten, well . . . good news is, he knows why. Bad news is . . . everything else. So, that’s real great news. Ash is thrilled. [/sarcasm]

Like I said, a lot of the other stuff for Alan still holds true. Alan doesn’t find a way to reverse it (of course), and so he can’t do anything to stop the fact that the people he cares about age out and die while his body stays fifteen. Meyer, Clemont, and Bonnie (so, his stepdad and stepsiblings) all grow old and die, with only their kids and/or grandkids (mostly just in Clemont’s case---Bonnie never has any kids) living on. Manon grows old and dies as well, and though she always seemed to find delight in the fact that people mistook her for the older one and Alan for her younger brother / son / grandson as she grew so much older than him, toward the end of her life she did let on that she realized that Alan never found those jokes nearly as funny (and she realizes why he never found them funny), and encourages him to, hey hey, maybe spend some time with her surviving family? (She’s a lesbian, but she got married to a nice woman and they adopted some kids, who had some kids, and so on and so forth.) And Alan says sure, but his heart is really not in it. And as for Sycamore . . . Well, Sycamore was always pretty worried, you know? He’s a forward thinker, and he knows his son, and he saw how desperate and despaired Alan got when there really was just no way on record to undo what happened (because why would there be?). And so he spent a lot of the time they had together alive trying to look on the bright side of things. Alan is immortal, so think of all the things he can learn! The places he can go and the things he can experience! So much left to learn, and explore, and do. There’s no getting around the fact that Alan is watching everyone he loves (apart from Lizardon, ofc) grow old and die (and no gentler way to put that, either), and of course that’s heartbreaking, but Alan is still alive and can do so many more things and Sycamore just wants Alan to keep learning, keep experiencing, please, promise him you’ll keep doing this--- And Alan promises that he will, but . . . again, his heart’s not really in it. Alan would take Gabrielle once Sycamore passes away. Gabrielle is a dragon by species, so even though she’s not immortal herself, she’s still aging very slowly. She’s got a lot of longevity in her. So Alan, being immortal, takes Gabrielle (or Gabby, as he calls her) with him, because as an immortal he’ll actually outlive her, but he’ll also be able to care for her for the rest of her life. Plus, he’s family, he’s the one who originally brought her home . . . so it makes sense that he would be the one to take her from there, too. (The lab is left in his name, but it’s too painful to be there once Sycamore dies. So although Alan does own the property, he lets the assistants that were presently working there still run the place. The parts of it that were home are closed off, no one can go through their bedrooms, but . . . yeah, he just can’t bear to be there anymore. It’s too painful.) That really, really bad moment where Alan legitimately tries to kill himself because he just can’t stand this anymore still happens. This time, though, it’s after Bonnie’s death, since Manon was a little older and thus would probably die a little sooner? Then again, Bonnie was a Ranger . . . well, either way, after losing his father, his stepfather, his (step)brother, and both of his sisters (stepsister in Bonnie, tagalong kid that he formed a sibling relationship with in Manon), that’s just . . . kind of more than enough. And so he still has that really, really bad moment where he actually gets the alcohol and all of those pills and is about to really do it . . . but the he feels the weight of Lizardon’s pokéball in his pocket, and he realizes what he’s doing (that he’s about to leave Lizardon alone, too), and so he calls him out and has that moment where he apologizes and apologizes while hugging Lizardon, and just cries, and all of that still happens, because it’s honestly based on my own near-suicide and how I only stopped because of Shiloh and hugged her and apologized in much the same way, and therefore it’s personal enough for me to keep. So that stays. After that, Alan gets himself together again and decides to keep traveling, as noted in the fic. He does go to so many different places, experiences different things . . . but, perhaps most importantly, he also makes it a point to always get involved in any criminal, world-ending things that are going down to stop them, because if he’s not doing that, then what’s the point? (Also, yeah, he stopped being Kalos Champion a while ago---like, officially gave it up---but that’s just a tiny blip to this whole story now.) He also starts wearing the second outfit I described in this post (yeah, this is the AU that I was talking about; the fic I was trying to keep from being spoiled got deleted when I lost my “current WIPs” folder, so). CTRL+F and search for “the other outfit I have in mind” to jump to that part. Alan is given the coat from the Johto Dragon Clan after he helps them out with something, as part of his “when there is a crisis, stop to help” thing he has going on. I’m not sure if he’s actually aware of his heritage (though quite possibly, if his biological parents also sought him out in this AU), but whether he is or not, it’s not entirely relevant, because he was given the coat as a gift nonetheless.

All of that said about Alan . . . remember how I said there was one exception among the four to the “no longer grows or ages” bit? Yeah. Lizardon. My headcanon for the charizard species is that the 5′7″ height given in the Pokédex is an average height for charizard when they first evolve from charmeleon, but that they continue to grow in size as they grow older. This is why all of the charizard in the Charicific Valley are so big, why Ash’s charizard has grown over time, why Kiawe’s charizard (which was his grandfather’s) is so big, et cetera. And so, as the years pass, Lizardon gets bigger, too. The thing is . . . he shouldn’t be. At least, Alan doesn’t think he should be. He was caught in the blast, too---the ultimate weapon should have affected him, too. And look, guys, look, he has already watched his entire family grow old and die. Gabby will live for hundreds of years or so, but she’s going to die, too, and he knows this, he’s accepted this, but Lizardon . . . yeah, he had that brief moment where he flipped out and was going to take his own life, where he wasn’t thinking about Lizardon, but then he did think of Lizardon, and he stopped because of Lizardon, because he can do this, he can do this so long as he has Lizardon, but only as long as he has Lizardon. If he . . . if he has to . . . if he has to watch Lizardon die, too . . . if Lizardon also grows old and dies too, then he . . . then he . . . He really tries not to think about it. He really, really tries. But Lizardon, as a charizard, gets to be pretty damn big. Like, ten feet tall? Something like that. Eventually he just can’t be indoors anymore, he’s definitely big enough to carry multiple riders, he could make the earth quake when he roars, like. He gets to be a big boy. And he doesn’t look older, really, other than that, but like . . . it’s deeply, intimately terrifying for Alan. He knows he really will lose it if Lizardon dies, too. Nothing will hold him back. Not even Gabby. So he tries---he tries to tell himself that maybe the Infinity Energy just affected Lizardon differently because he’s a dragon. Maybe it still lets him grow because he’s a dragon, but he’ll stop growing at some point. Maybe . . . maybe . . .

As for Ash, well, as mentioned, he was irate when he realized he wasn’t getting his growth spurt, then scared / worried, and then he learned what happened and he . . . he just . . . Oh.  At first, he tried to look on the bright side. Look, Pikachu! We’re immortal! We’ll never grow old and die! We can do everything forever! Our journey will never end! Hooray!!! The thing is, there’s only so long the bright side can hold you over. Although Ash is only thirteen / fourteen physically, emotionally and mentally, he isn’t. He matured. And so, say, did his feelings for Misty. He had a big ol’ crush on her that he didn’t fully understand or know what to do with when he was ten, but those feelings matured over time. And to be honest, Misty had feelings for him back then as well . . . but as she grows into her twenties, she doesn’t feel attraction toward him physically anymore, because . . . well, he has the body of a child (young teen, but you know). So although she still cares about him very much, she moves on. He doesn’t, but she does. And she gets married to someone else. And Ash---feeling salty, and bitter, and more than a little upset that the woman he loves is marrying someone else because he looks like a thirteen-year-old even though he’s mentally twenty-six---doesn’t attend the wedding even though he was supposed to be part of the bridal party (he was Misty’s best friend, after all). He does send Pikachu, but this still causes a huge fight with Misty, who wanted him to be there, but Ash is angry and emotional, and it . . . it’s a huge, big mess.  And that’s just one thing---that’s just one thing that happened. There are other things, too. Such as, well, just as Alan had to deal with Sycamore dying, so, too, does Ash have to deal with watching Delia grow old and die. She teases him sometimes about never giving her grandkids (“At least I have lots of pokémon,” he says), but for the most part she’s of course still very supportive and loving of her immortal son until the day she dies (from old age, peacefully in her sleep). Ash inherits the house, and unlike Alan he still visits someitmes when he’s older. It’s kind of rare, though, because as the years (and centuries) go on the populace of Pallet Town changes a lot, and so while no one can take the house because it does belong to someone and not the town itself, there are so many urban legends surrounding it from the Pallet Town populace. Whenever Ash does show up, everyone is always pretty “!!!!” about the fact that some seemingly random “thirteen-year-old kid” is going into the “abandoned house,” so Ash usually tries to sneak in at night, or however he does it. And it’s not just his mom. After enough years, when Ash is mentally in his thirties or forties, he realizes that the TRio hasn’t been around. He seeks them out, and finds that they have . . . a house? A house. They have a house. (Probably squatting, but whatever.) And they’re . . . not following him anymore? Really? “We’re old now, twerp,” James says. “Speak for yourself,” Jessie snaps. “We’re the same age,” James says, offended that she had swatted his arm like that. And it’s true, they’re in their forties or fifties now, like---it’s fine if they retire now, right? “But don’t you wanna try to steal Pikachu?” Ash asks. He didn’t sit down at the kitchen table even though they told him to, even though Jessie is fixing up some tea in the little electronic kettle they have, and James is preparing pancakes at the stove. “No, not anymore. If we wanted Pikachu we would have gone to take him. We don’t do that anymore,” Jessie says. “We’ve moved on.” “Moved on?” Ash says. “Everyone’s gotta grow up sometime, kid,” Meowth says, from where he’s curled up in front of the fireplace. And that was the wrong thing to say. When Jessie and James turn around to give Ash his tea and pancakes, he and Pikachu have already bolted through the open window.  He never speaks to them again, though they have an uncanny ability of tracking where he is, and so they send him things from time to time. After enough years pass the gifts dwindle down, and then the last thing Ash gets is a letter written by James telling him that he and Jessie are very old and also sick and don’t have much time left at all, but that they want him to take care of himself, and also to never let anyone else steal Pikachu, either, because if they didn’t get to no one else should, okay? He goes back to them at last just to make sure they can have proper funerals, or at least memorials. I mean, they didn’t have any family. No one besides him and Pikachu, really. And it bothered him too much to see them all old and stuff when he wasn’t, and when they weren’t going to steal Pikachu (or try to steal Pikachu) anymore, and so he had stopped visiting, and he really regrets that now, and--- I’m sure you can imagine the breakdown for yourself. I don’t need to write it out. He had stopped talking to Misty for a good chunk of years after their fight, but this motivates him to seek her out and really . . . make up. And she calls him an idiot for thinking that she wouldn’t have wanted to see him, or that she’d still be holding a grudge, and so they do reconcile. But when she dies, he doesn’t go to her funeral. He does’t go to Brock’s, either. Or Gary’s, or Tracey’s, May’s, or Max’s, or Dawn’s, or Iris’s . . . See, here’s the thing. He had to accept his mom was dead because he was the one to put that funeral together. He had to accept the TRio was dead, because same. But if he never sees anyone else’s funerals, or hears of their deaths, or anything like that, then he can just pretend they’re still alive somewhere. Old, sure, but still alive somewhere. He never has to move past the denial stage. Definitely not to acceptance. And this is totally a perfectly healthy way to live, so he’s just going to do that. It’s a bit harder for his pokémon. Most of them aren’t dragons by species. They die over the years. He always makes sure he’s there for that, as best he can be. Charizard is still alive, being a dragon by species, and in the Valley for a good portion of time. Gible, Noivern, and Goodra as well (though he doesn’t have Goodra officially, anymore, but still). He does eventually get Charizard on his team permanently once again (along with a Key Stone and Charizardite Y), as well as the aforementioned Gible (now Garchomp) and Noivern. He also gets a milotic (since milotic are dragons by species---sea dragons), and this milotic actually gets a nickname: Mysterica. He calls her Myst or Mysti for short. “After a real special girl I knew a long time ago,” he says. He never becomes Kanto Champion in this AU, because around the time he was going to he has already realized / learned of his immortality, and it was pointed out to him by Gary that, well, it’s probably not the best to put himself in public spotlight then, is it, because then everyone will realize what has happened to him. And to say that Ash is a little bitter about this on top of everything else that his immortality makes him salty about is an understatement. Bad enough it makes him have to watch everyone grow old and die (even his dragons will grow old and die eventually), but now it has also taken his dream from him. Great. He does keep traveling, though (of course he does), but after a little while he stops getting travel companions, for the most part. That’s just more people he’d have to get attached to, only for them to grow old and die later, and also most of the people who’d want to travel with him are kids, because they think he’s a kid, and he is . . . not a kid, mentally, at all. But sometimes he does still mentor some new kids, and when he turns one hundred he decides to pretend that he is a brand new trainer fresh out of Pallet Town again as a “fun prank” (so mentally healthy!), and that’s how he meets Souji and Makoto. See, look, I can do things with M20. I can make it even sadder than it already was. Look at me go. Like Alan, he ends up purposefully involving himself in world-crises as he travels around, because he’s Ash, of course he does. The outfit I usually imagine him in is heavily based on Red’s from SM. He has the t-shirt with the 96 on it, and the backpack that has the strap go across his chest. But his hat is actually the one Red had in his original art, albeit the leaf badge is instead replaced by his Key Stone. (To use it, he swipes his fingers across the Key Stone and then grabs the bill of his hat to turn it backwards in one fluid motion. His invocation is: “Let’s understand the power that’s inside! Mega evolve!” Because come on, it’s perfect.) His pants are baggier, too, and fall over his sneakers, and he still has some dark fingerless gloves on. That’s how I picture him in his immortal years, anyway. But speaking of traveling . . .

So both Alan and Ash travel around, getting involved in things, probably dropping fake names and aliases everywhere, you know. They both know, in the back of their minds, that the other is immortal. But any attempts at communication failed for some reason or another (they both travel so much being the main reason), and for decades and decades their paths never crossed, and Ash was doing his best to avoid everyone for a time, and things happened . . . But finally, they both do reunite, purely by chance, during a crisis in Oblivia. How I imagine it is that there’s this big, huge battle going on, and Ash is fighting, and all of a sudden he hears “Dragon Claw!” and he knows that voice, he knows, and he looks over and there’s Alan and Lizardon, and he calls Alan’s name, and Alan looks at him, and they realize so many things in that second, but there’s no time to talk, so they finish up the battle. Everything gets wrapped up, and it takes another couple days, but when they finally get a chance to settle down and reunite and talk it’s just . . . it’s really emotional, for both of them. But we also know what Ash tends to do with emotions he feels about other humans, so he says, “Hey . . . we never did have that battle you promised me.” So they battle. Lizardon vs. Charizard, and maybe mega evolution is involved, but either way. They battle and Alan wins, but at the end Ash is staring at Alan, and when Alan asks him about it, Ash says, “Nothing, it’s just that this is the first time I’ve seen you really smile in three days.” And it’s true. Alan feels . . . lighter, and the battle made him feel happier, than he has in . . . god, as long as he can remember. He forgot . . . even with his eidetic memory, after all these years, he forgot that Ash always had that effect on him. But it’s not just him. I said it was an emotional reunion, and I meant it. Like, Ash is . . . for the first time, Ash is faced with someone from his past who looks the same as he always did, because he’s immortal, too. Alan is immortal, too. Those feelings---he had formed such a connection with Alan in Kalos, even before the immortality. Alan had helped Ash, too, back then, even if it wasn’t as obvious. And now Alan is here, and Ash hadn’t even realized that he needed this, hadn’t even realized---of course he has Pikachu, they’re platonic soulmates, of course he does, but . . . to have another human being that he can connect with, that he can be honest about his immortality with, that he won’t have to watch grow old and die . . . When they go to part ways, and Alan goes and hops up on Lizardon’s back, Ash runs after him and is like, “Wait! Alan!” And Alan does. He waits. And Ash asks him where he’s going, and Alan shrugs, because who knows. And Ash says, “I don’t really have anywhere I’m going either, not really. Wanna go wherever . . . together?” And Alan is quiet, and at first Ash thinks that Alan might say no. But then Alan smiles a little, and extends his hand. And Ash grins, and takes it, and allows Alan to pull him up on Lizardon’s back. So they start traveling together.

They continue what they were both doing before, but together. Lots of exploration, but also lots of world defending, like . . . they intervene with huge criminal organizations or legendary crises, yes, but they also keep an eye on political stuff, too. Like, at one point the Charicific Valley loses federal protection as a result of some corrupt government dealings in Johto, and as a result poachers descend on the place en masse. Ash and Alan book it to get there, but they get there a little too late. They save some of the charizard (a couple, here or there), but a lot of them were just . . . it wasn’t pretty. It was devastating, actually. But they did their best, all the same. They felt it was their duty. The least they could do. But this is a part of the reason why, years down the line, the charmander line is . . . basically extinct. There are maybe still some others, apart from Lizardon and Ash’s charizard, but . . . they’re very, very few in number. (And like, no, the Valley was not the only wild charizard sanctuary, but the fact that it was necessary at all tells us the charmander line was already hurting. This . . . this didn’t help.) But sometimes they are more successful, and as I said, they keep an eye on things like that. There are times throughout the years when a government gets too corrupt and they actually intervene to help stage revolutions. At one point, there’s a Champion (maybe even in Johto or Kanto around the time the Valley massacre happened?) who likes to wear a necklace made out of charizard fangs, and Alan actually jumps up on that stage to use that necklace to pull the Champion near so that he can punch him in the face, and the government was so corrupt at the time that this puts a bounty on Alan’s head, so that was a thing that happened. (Ash was there, but he was in the crowd and is like 4′8″ forever, so. Not easily seen.) They made it out of that one, but you know what, the guy deserved to be socked in the face. Alan had enough.  But anyway, main takeaway here is: They keep an eye on world events and intervene when necessary. If you ask Ash, “We’re . . . kind of like guardians.” It’s the least they can do, you know.

Both are considerably happier once traveling together. Now that he has someone human to joke about it with, Ash likes to make lots of jokes about their immortality. He says he likes to think of his age as, “Thirteen with an asterisk.” He sings songs like “Wouldn’t It Be Nice” by the Beach Boys for the irony. (’Cause you know, the first lyrics are, “Wouldn’t it be nice if we were older, then we wouldn’t have to wait so long . . .”) It’s been a long time since he was ever in the mood to spontaneously sing, but hey, he is now! And Alan asks him if he’s a steel-type, actually, because, “Your irony is killing me.” Ash is delighted. He’s so delighted. They eventually do tell each other all about what they’ve been doing in the interim. Ash is the one human Alan was always able to confide in without problems, so he does naturally tell Ash about his suicide attempt. And Ash? Now Ash is not delighted anymore. He’s furious, and horror-stricken (because he can’t help thinking about what if Alan had gone through with it, he wouldn’t be here right now, he wouldn’t be---) and he’s just, “We hadn’t had our battle yet! You promised!” Alan stares at him. “I wasn’t thinking about that.” “Well, you should have been!” Ash says, and before Alan can say anything else, Ash points at him and says, “Three hundred more battles. I want three hundred more battles with you. Promise me.” Alan is aghast. “That’s . . . excessive,” he says. “That’s an absurdly high number---” “We’re immortal,” Ash says flatly. “We’ve literally got forever. Promise me.” And Alan knows what Ash is making him promise, really, and so he nods. “I promise.” “Good. I’m gonna make sure you keep it. Right, Pikachu?” “Pika!” Pikachu says, and believe me, he means it. 

They get very close, as could be expected. They reach a point where they can communicate certain things just by looking at each other. Pikachu, as he always did with people he and Ash became close with, does have a way of saying Alan’s name after a time (Kacha), as well as Lizardon’s (Pikaacha). I know that the names Pikachu has for others typically start with Pi, but there was just no way I could make Alan’s name work with that, so. Just work with me, here. Sometimes he rides around on Alan’s shoulders or head as well, depending. Ash, being a person who conveys love through physical affection and who loves physical intimacy, is often the one to initiate any sort of cuddling. Sometimes he uses Alan’s chest or stomach as a pillow (and complains about Alan’s abs, which Alan absolutely has as a dragon rider, because god, they’re so hard, couldn’t he be a bit of a softer pillow?), or just throws himself back against Alan when they’re watching a movie or something, if they’re staying at Ash’s house or somewhere else. Alan doesn’t mind; he might not initiate the cuddling himself, but he doesn’t mind it. Ash is really grateful for this. Sometimes, when they encounter others, people mistake them for brothers. Neither Alan nor Ash ever bother to correct them, although they don’t think of each other as brothers. In Alan’s mind, he only ever had one brother, and that was his stepbrother, Clemont. In Ash’s mind, well . . . he just never really thought of his friends as siblings, you know? He was an only child. Closest he ever got was Gary, he guesses, and also probably Brock. So even when someone calls Alan his brother, he goes with it, but he doesn’t really think of Alan like that, not really. It’s different than that. But they don’t ever discuss it. Alan figures they’re fine as they are (gee, wonder who he learned that from, Sycamore), and Ash kind of does, too. I do think Ash probably thinks about it more than Alan does, particularly since . . . well, keeping in mind that mentally they’re both over a hundred years old, probably, by this point (and that in canon we never saw a maturity gap between them anyway), and Ash is demiromantic pansexual (in my headcanon, at least), it is possible that Ash would actually develop feelings for Alan. But---and this is important---Alan is still aromantic asexual, so he’s not going to reciprocate those feelings. And Ash is very emotionally intelligent, I think he’d be able to tell that Alan is not in love with him. (And he figures, well, he still looks thirteen anyway, he still looks like a kid whereas Alan looks like a teenager, so thanks for that once again, immortality.) And he’d be fine with that, really, so long as they can stay together. Like, whatever he feels, even if he doesn’t realize “I’m in love with him,” I think he’d at least know that he wants to spend the rest of his forever with Alan, or at least he does for the time being. And he hopes Alan feels the same way. And even if he did tell Alan, and Alan was like, “Oh . . . I can’t---” and was feeling kind of alarmed, Ash would assure him of this. Like, he might want Alan to know, but he doesn’t expect anything from it, like that. Don’t worry. But that said, even though Alan is aroace, make no mistake that Ash is just as important to him, like . . . we all saw those canon episodes, we know what kind of deep connection these two have. So especially in Immortality AU, where they’re the only humans each other has left, really, that bond is going to be even stronger. (It’s going to be a mega bond, if you will---okay, I’ll see myself out.) So that’s definitely where the queerplatonic relationship comes in, even if it’s never actually called as such between them. (Actually, in a situation where someone who knows they aren’t brothers asks what they are, Ash would probably just shrug and say, “Dunno. Haven’t thought too much about it. It’s good, though.”) So that’s a thing, too. 

But oh, I’m sure anyone who is still reading this is probably wondering . . . what about Lizardon? Because I mentioned up above that Lizardon still grew physically, and Alan was internally wrecked with worry and impending grief over this, and Ash, being emotionally intelligent, would pick up on Alan’s fear even if Alan never actually said . . . Well, you really can’t expect Ash to just let this go, can you? The thing is, Ash has a way with legendary pokémon. You know this, I know this---we all know this. And by this point in his immortal life, he’s just not down to take any nonsense from them. So he decides, okay, you know what, we’re just going to go ask Xerneas about this. Let’s go to Kalos and ask Xerneas what is up. If Lizardon’s not immortal, we’ll have Xerneas fix that. And if Lizardon is and is just growing anyway because he’s a dragon, hey! Now we know! And if he isn’t immortal and Xerneas won’t fix it, I’ll have a talk with Yveltal to fix me, Alan thinks, but doesn’t say. No, Ash thinks when he can tell that Alan is thinking ths, but also doesn’t say because Alan didn’t say his part, either.  So they go to Kalos so that Ash can tell Xerneas to get his antlered ass out here so they can have a little chat. (Probably he approaches this with a bit more tact, but . . . only a bit, because this is Ash we’re talking about.) And he succeeds at getting a chat with Lizardon, and Alan is suitably impressed, because like---it’s not that he didn’t believe Ash when Ash said, “Oh, no, trust me, I’ve got a whole thing with legendary pokémon, I can make him have a talk with me,” but it’s just . . . seeing is different than believing. Anyway, as it turns out (thanks to Pikachu helpfully translating), Xerneas’ power did affect Lizardon differently because Lizardon is a dragon by species. Essentially, it took longer to kick in, wrangling with Lizardon’s longevity. Lizardon did age normally for a few years, but all the while Xerneas’ power was slowing that process down, until it does eventually stop. Lizardon is fine. He won’t grow old and die. He’s immortal, too. Alan’s so relieved he nearly cries. “Great! Thanks, Xerneas,” Ash says, and he grins. “That’s all we had for you. You can go now.” Xerenas is more than a little bewildered by this sudden dismissal, but he probably does go. (A fic I was writing was originally a time travel fic wherein Alan and Ash, in the midst of trying to find Xerneas, were sent back in time by Celebi (who was feeling mischievous and pranky, I suppose) to the time period between TSME 4 and the League. They end up encountering Sycamore by happenstance, and Sycamore doesn’t realize that this is time-travel, and so it’s all emotional as Alan gets to see his father for the first time in 80+ years, and as Sycamore tries to talk to Alan about Lysandre, but Alan is cagey and won’t talk about that and says, “Nothing you say to me right now will change anything” and Sycamore doesn’t know why, and Ash keeps interrupting and changing the subject every time Sycamore tries to press, and also Alan refuses to call Lizardon out and Sycamore doesn’t know why that is, either (it’s because Lizardon is over ten feet tall and, uh, that’s going to be more than a little noticeable, probably), but he’s really worried because Steven told him that Lizardon healed fine after the incident in Hoenn, so ??? Anyway, I was originally a fic about all that, but then I lost my “current WIPs” folder, so. That’s gone now. I’m as devastated as anyone about this.)

There’s probably more that I could say, but wow, I’ve been typing this up for two hours and it is long, so I’ll leave it at this, haha.