#gligar emmet

[nemesis-is-my-middle-name]

Emmet is falling.

Which isn’t surprising, actually. He’s been falling all the way from the subway. But something’s different now. Everything’s brighter. The air rushing around him feels different. Positioned wrong. 

He turns in midair and realizes that the ground is now visible, and it’s coming towards him very fast.

For the next few moments, everything happens in a blur. He’s tumbling rapidly, vision obscured by flashes of color—and then there’s a snap like air hitting a suddenly-stretched fabric, and everything lurches as he stops moving down. Then—if he isn’t mistaken—he’s moving up, instead. A slow, sweeping motion, carrying him forwards at the same time.

He opens his eyes and looks around. He is, in fact, no longer falling. He’s. Floating? –Soaring. The snapping sound he heard were wings extending—his wings, or, the wings attached to the body around him. Which is decidedly not his, but apparently has its own instincts about how to fly, which is good news.

Faded colors, blue leather wings and dull-purple chitin. Sensitive ears are folded back against his head, protecting them from the rushing wind. He knows this one, but it isn’t coming to memory just from these bits.

Perfect identification is also not important. There are other things to think about right now.

He takes another look around, now that the ground isn’t speeding towards him. He’s high in the sky, above a region he doesn’t recognize. The most noticeable feature is the structure, almost level with him now, sat atop a high mountain. It’s cast in strange light by the flickering thing above them, which looks a lot like the portal(?) he (they) fell into. In the building itself, his newly-sharp eyes can pick out a lone dark figure.

Hoping it’s what he thinks it is, without needing to consciously decide, he cuts a better line directly for it. Even just gliding, he’s fast, and he loses almost no height. Soon enough he’s close enough to the structure to make out details, and—yes. Relief surges through him. It’s Ingo! And he looks unharmed, and he’s still in his normal body, sitting up and looking around—

With an unconscious screech of triumph, he speeds up dramatically as he dives straight for his target.

---

Ingo opens his eyes—closes them again because ow, the light is bright—opens them one more time, and is given the opportunity to take in his surroundings in peace for a moment.

He sits up, shaking off a sweep of heightened vertigo. There’s the sky (blue). The sky (giant hole in). Pillars towering all around him, forming an open-air structure, made of some kind of white stone that almost seems to glitter faintly in the light. Between those, statues of creatures he doesn’t recognize. A pedestal in front of him with no visible purpose.

He starts to stand up, and then something made of muted cool tones comes flying out of the corner of his vision and collides with his face.

He staggers, shouting without actually meaning to, trying blindly to get whatever-it-is off. It—he thinks it’s something alive?—it’s moving, but it doesn’t seem actively violent, more just flailing in the same manner he is. He manages to grab something that feels like a clawed foot and instinctively flings it as far as he can from himself. A Pokémon goes flying across the room, rolls once or twice on the ground, and doesn’t immediately get up, which makes him worried.

“Ah- my sincerest apologies! You startled me- are you alright?” He takes a couple steps towards it and sinks to his knees again, getting more level with the creature. It pulls itself upright and becomes recognizable as a Gligar.

(How does he know that?)

It stares at him and tilts its head, ears twitching and then going flat. Looks down at its pincers, and then backs up, and chirrs, sounding almost uncertain. It seems to consider something for a moment, claw scratching the stone floor, then comes to some decision or realization and looks back at him. It takes a couple steps closer and taps a pincer to its chest, mouth splitting into a wide grin that reveals an impressive set of fangs.

“Ah.” He leans back the slightest bit, hoping he doesn’t offend but not wanting to invite a bite, either. “Are you... do you want something from me?”

The smile fades again, but doesn’t vanish entirely, and its ears twitch down again slightly. It goes back to thinking, looking around. Then it crows, maybe in realization, and darts off again. He tries to watch it, but it disappears behind him and he doesn’t feel like getting up again just yet—everything’s still sort of spinning.

It’s back soon enough anyway—only now, it’s used its pincer to set something on its head, a black hat that he doesn’t actually recognize but that he immediately instinctively knows is his.

He’s reaching out and taking it before he can think. “Thank you–” that wasn’t right, because its smile is waning again, and this time its eyes are narrowing to go with it, like it’s frustrated by something. “Did- you want it? I believe it belongs to me, but- no?” It’s shaking its head insistently. “I... I’m afraid I don’t... understand, then. You’re... attempting to communicate something, but...”

He hasn’t tried to move yet, but the vertigo isn’t really going away. It’s doing the opposite, in fact, which is probably cause for concern. The freezing air isn’t helping, either, making his fingers numb. He takes another look around and reaffirms what he already knew—this building is deserted. “Perhaps we could... put the brakes on this line, for now, and take another? I... I don’t believe this is an... ideal station for me. I don’t suppose you know where... to find... anyone?”

Another, less insistent and more definitive, shake of the head. Unfortunate, but not shocking. “Very well, I suppose I will just have to search on my own. If you want... to accompany...”

He tries to stand up—darkness rushes over his vision and he sways, and then his knees buckle, refusing to take his weight. The background static whine doubles, and distantly beneath it he can hear alarmed chirping as he hits the ground, and then nothing.

---

Something was wrong with Ingo. That much was obvious. Emmet had waited a moment, but when he wouldn’t immediately rouse, waiting started to feel wrong and he took off, looking for people who could actually help them. This building of white pillars was clearly human-made, so there must have been some around somewhere. He just had to be fast—he didn’t want to leave him for that long. In this, the inexplicable new body, with its cutting wings, was much more useful than just running would have been. Maybe people would have some explanation, or it would be easier to communicate with them, or.

That was the clawing doubt. Ingo should have recognized him. He was certain. That was reasonable to think, right? Something should have brought it home, but there had been no recognition at all. Why not?

But one thing was for certain—recognized or no, human or Pokémon, Emmet or Gligar, he wasn’t going anywhere. He would stay by his brother’s side, no matter what.

[kharmii]

Art credit: OvvvO@Bb12Bear Twitter.

[allysafantasy]

One of Lady Sneasler's kittens decided to say hi to the scared Zorua. Gem, the Sneasel, is happy to see a new friend. Out of the three Sneasels, Gem is gentle in how he interacts with Zorua. Although Zorua is still scared of Gem, it's a good thing that he didn't run away.

Ingo is happy that Zorua can at least interact with one of the poisonous kittens. Meanwhile, it seems like Emmet's Zorua is causing trouble.

Emmet has to deal with the shenanigans of his Zorua for a few months after taking it in seven years ago. Ingo has been missing for 8 years. This has made Emmet depressed, and he tries his best not to dwell on it. Since the first year of Ingo's disappearance, Emmet has been trying to keep their apartment clean to distract himself. He'd rather avoid facing the reality of Ingo's absence, although he knows it's just avoiding the truth. He values truth but in this case this truth, he thinks it's false. He doesn't want to be as idealistic as Ingo, but sometimes he wishes for a miracle to bring Ingo back or at least provide a reason for his disappearance. Then he met Zorua, which, although Emmet does not like the shenanigans that Zorua gets up to, it unintentionally made him feel a bit better which is what Zorua wanted. After meeting Emmet, Zorua just wants to make Emmet happy, even if making small mischief is enough to at least make him not think about bad stuff. Zorua has a simple, idealistic goal: to make everyone happy and distract them from negative thoughts.

Last Post

Anyway, I had fun making this art. Though, the Emmet art just makes me not wanna want to draw background characters but I remembered I made Pokemon Designs for my ocs so I made them into background characters. So, Lets just say they just wanna visit Unova or something. Also this is the first time of me trying to make a comic. I don't know how to comic so I don't mind any criticism. (especially with grammar pls help) Anyway, I've been working on this animation. If you have heard the song and poses uh. yeah I'm just showing the frames of it.

Edit: I finally have a name for this AU and its in the tag

[peachy-doodles]

tings from the aggie iyaaa grey drawins r mine ^_^

finally have names for my ancestors !!! Umi and Oshi !!! tysm @evtraininguniversity for the ideas <3 also i did a lil doodle of ur oc universe ingo before i left cuz i love the shapes of those guys gkshghs <3

[fourphoenixfeathers]

I am verrry normal about Yewsoup's fics.

Blurple scrimblos. Soggy bats. Miserable sopping wet creatures.

Obligatory not my au, it's from this fic! I love transformation fics. So much.

[theultimateultimateweapon]

Big November merch drop! I've got plenty of new Kirby and Pokemon charms, buttons, and more! Everything else in the shop is 20% off.

Check them out here - https://www.etsy.com/shop/TUUWArt

[ghostypetrainer]

Emmet's not sure what's a bigger change; him turning into an actual pokemon upon arrival to Hisui or Ingo turning into a feral Mountain Man before his eyes (he keeps begging Lady Sneaser NOT to keep teaching his brother to free hand rock climb but she just laughs in his face and keeps doing it anyway)

Lady Sneasler is such a bad influence on his brother. He is verrry grateful that becoming her Warden has given him a position of honor in the Pearl Clan, helping his brother be welcomed into their number even though they are usually wary of strangers... but could you maybe stop teaching his brother how to freehand rock climb? That is verrry dangerous, and verrry unnecessary. He can simply carry his brother up cliffs!

Unfortunately, he does not win this argument. At least he gets to spot Ingo!

[autumn-sweet-fae]

The question now is does the baby gligar belongs to Ingo or Emmet? Cause the baby joltiks (and durants) all belong to Emmet lol.

The baby gligar would be looked after more so by Gliscor and Ingo as they are more familiar with her needs so she will be solidly Ingo’s 😌

Baby Gligar does love giving her joltik siblings rides up to high places and to cuddle with mama. She also loves to sleep hanging from Chandelure’s arms.

[curiositykilledtheradiostar]

since @thelemonsnek posted the comic they did for this au I figured now is a good time to post this! AU details under the cut :>

Ingo got eeby deebied still. not to ancient Hisui, just a museum dedicated to Hisui! he still has amnesia

He works night security. Like the movie, the whole place comes to life at night. why does it do this? why was Ingo involved? idk it’s not important this is a silly au first and foremost

his “warden band” is from the gift shop. Lady Sneasler has decided he’s her warden now because she’s the only noble with no warden in the museum. she kept stealing the actual warden band from her display to give to Ingo. Ingo still isn’t sure how she was opening the case with her claws

Akari is there, and she’s Dawn. she snuck in at night on a dare early in her journey, got caught and gave a fake name, and then kept coming back to visit because a) cool haunted(?) museum, b) as the whole Galactic mess went down, it became nice to have someone who didn’t know her for that. she may have reverse adopted Ingo as her uncle

yes, Ingo is unaware of who Akari really is. he’s BAD at keeping up with current events

he doesn’t have his full hisuian team, but he has a Magneton and Kadabra, they’re good for fending off the museum “pokemon” without actually damaging them. he also has Gligar but doesn’t get a chance to battle with it much

Volo is still a villain. he’s causing the “frenzies” that Akari and Ingo work together to fix. he’s trying to meet Arceus to end his “cursed, half-life existence”. He’s the only person in the museum who views their lives like that, literally everyone else is chill with it. He does have actual Giratina under his command

theres a few versions of Ingo and Emmet’s reunion we came up with but my personal favourite is “Emmet breaks in to steal the azure flute to meet Arceus to get Ingo back, gets caught. By Ingo.”

[checkertrains]

Little doodle of Ingo singing a song to his gligar, might draw Emmet ver next if my motivations come backs lol

Song is train song by Vashti Bunyan!

[nemesis-is-my-middle-name]

my fav part of gligar emmet (the bit that ive written so far sobs) is the beginning part where emmet wakes up midair in an unfamiliar body and rather than like, freaking out, he gets immediately distracted trying to remember which specific pokemon this is that he's now stuck in

[kharmii]

Art credit: OvvvO@Bb12Bear Twitter.

[waywardstation]

leaks have been de-confirmed and shred apart on 4chan.

feeling it's a little early too throw around leaks if we don't even have a release date... or even know when the game is set.

fishy to me is only Emmet being mentioned and no mentions of possible ancestor/decentants... people'd be interested in them as well.

yeah, while there are some very nice ideas in this it's 99,99% fake

In regards to this leak for PLZA

I figured! We never get leaks this specific and abundant this early — we haven’t even gotten a proper informational trailer yet, which will probably come out this summer. And the final evo forms are almost always the last things we find out, we probably would not get this as much as this offered at this point.

And yeah!! I’m hoping when leaks do start eventually coming around it mentions a little about ancestors/descendants… I’m very interested to see if we get more, and who!!

Favorite thing about the leak though is the thought of another chimecho evolution and a gligar line regional variant. Probably too good to be true but I’d love those!

Thanks for sharing this with me anon!!

[loumun-versen]

31. Farm And one more self indulgent picture as well as plenty colored for the finale! I’m setting this after the Hisui nuzlocke, so Ismerie and Ingo are back in the present and with their close ones!

All pokemon depicted here (apart from Ingo’s chandelure, Emmet’s joltik, Elesa’s tynamo and the hisuian sneasel as I haven’t finished the nuzlocke yet, so I don’t know if she’ll actually have one ^^’) are Ismerie’s, from her various journeys. Zero the raichu from Kanto, Olympe the weavile and August the mareep from Johto, Umber and Aurifer (*) the absols and Ohmray the eelektross from Hoenn (he’s from a mirage island), Atropos the absol (lighter one), Thessalie the weavile (darker one), Chi the chimecho and Zelos the gligar (*) from Sinnoh

[dittolicous]

Common sights at Gear Station include but are not limited to:

Subway Masters Ingo & Emmet with their entourage of baby Pokemon hanging off them

Lady Sneasler with a basket-full of children and Pokemon

Groups of Weaviles (and Excadrills) trying to woo said Lady Sneasler

Depot Agent Ramses leading around a line of Sneaslets like he's giving them a tour of the station + teaching them train safety rules

Depot Agent Isadore chasing after a extremely excitable Hisuin Voltorb, pursued by Electrodes

A mixed gaggle of Pokemon running around like they're the toys from Toy Story and can't move if they're spotted

At least 5 Sneasels, 2 Indeedee, and Zorua with their own Gear Station hats or scarves

A flightless shiny Chatot catching rides atop Depot Agent heads as it yells Subway rules and etiquette

Joltiks of an Unusual Size (and one Gligar)

Chandelure and Eelektross frantically pursuing escaped baby Pokemon

Ingo and Emmet frantically pursuing escaped baby Pokemon

Depot Agent Cameron carried in the arms or basket of Lady Sneasler

Gym Leader Elesa, Champion Dawn, and Lady Sneasler wearing matching sunglasses and poofy coat

[ihaveatheoryonthat]

Guess what? Actual writing!

This is based on @yewsoup Accidental Vampire AU, but focusing less on the ‘vampire’ side of things and more on the ‘bat Pokemon’ aspect, because I am nothing if not predictable.

---

Evolution was a little like hiccuping: a sudden, fluttering jolt that started in the core and echoed outward into the rest of one’s body.

If one knew how, it could be stopped, but Emmet hadn’t known how and, truthfully, wouldn’t have tried if he’d been fully aware of the circumstance; a Zubat’s heightened sense of hearing was helpful and a nuisance in equal measure, and, while nothing was stopping him from utilizing his sense of sight as a human, he was incredibly sick of lacking eyes in his alternate form.

In following with the analogy, Ingo insisted he’d squeaked when it started, and Emmet opted to ignore this blatantly false account. His poor brother had a Gligar’s keenness of sight, but clearly lacked proper sonar. He simply couldn’t be trusted in this regard.

Now that the precedent had been set, though, Emmet was acutely aware that there was nothing stopping him from reaching the final stage in a Zubat’s evolutionary line. He had no trainer, so it was impossible to say with certainty which of his bonds was resonating, but there was no small number to pick from.

And, like hiccuping, he might be able to avoid a second evolution for so long, but, eventually, it would sneak up on him.

He didn’t really see any reason to put it off. That was the trick-- if one didn’t fight the hiccups, and just learned to let it happen when it wasn’t horribly inconvenient, it was far easier to weather.

So, when the evening was winding down and things were calm, he flopped down on the couch next to-- and partially on top of-- his twin, contentedly melted into his alternate form, and let what would happen happen.

To his eternal vindication, he heard Ingo yelp in surprise, and proceeded to cackle his way into life as a Crobat.

“I’m happy that you’re happy,” Ingo said flatly, brushing an errant wing out of his face, “But was that entirely necessary?”

“Entirely.” Emmet agreed, and gave his limbs an experimental little shake, mindful not to whack his brother in the process.

Because, while he had no trainer and no definite answer where the affection needed to evolve originated, he was pretty damn sure. If he’d so chosen, he could have evolved a second time from his first moments as a Golbat, and as much as he loved their Pokemon, there was only one connection in his life quite that prolific. Regular Golbat were able to express the companionship they felt through evolution alone, secure in the knowledge that it was their defining relationship; Emmet had wanted to express that as well, yes, but he’d also seen no reason to deny himself. Why evolve anywhere but where he was most comfortable?

There was a heavy sigh above him, and he felt something brush against one of his upper limbs.

Oh, he’d almost forgotten! While they didn’t have hands per se, Crobat had something to grasp with-- the digits along their foremost set of wings. Eager to test them out, he seized whatever he’d gotten caught on and only just started to move when Ingo put a stop to it.

He grabbed his sibling with both hands and hefted him up to eye level-- where it became clear what Emmet had gotten a not-handful of-- and with weary patience said, “You’re a Crobat now-- far too mature for hair pulling. I would recommend that you stop that at once, and feel it prudent to remind you that I remain unevolved and have no reason not to retaliate.”

“Oh? What’s that?” Emmet asked, reaching forward to anchor himself onto the backrest. With a little doing, he hoisted himself up onto it and leaned into Ingo’s space, cheek to cheek, “Did you just imply that I’m the older brother, now?”

Belatedly, Ingo seemed to realize that he’d done just that.

Emmet turned his head and chuckled into his twin’s hair, “Aw, it’s alright. You are just a little Gligar. It’s not your responsibility to notice these things.” He stopped long enough to nip harmlessly at the hand that flew up to wave him away, at which point he announced, “It’s only fair, Ingo. You are older when we are humans. I am older when we are Pokemon. Equal and opposite.”

Finally, through vibration more than any actual sound, he felt Ingo begin to laugh. “I’m not entirely sure I agree that humans and Pokemon are opposite one another.”

Emmet hummed, and it came out as more of a screech than he’d intended. With an apologetic headbutt, he said, “The subject matter has gotten far too grey for my liking. I do not want to continue this conversation.”

“Ah, but I’m just a little Gligar,” Ingo argued, tone kept carefully even, “Isn’t it my duty to pose uncomfortably existential questions?”

“Nothing has ever stopped you before.” Emmet grumbled and, in a huff, switched back to human form, leaning over the back of the couch. Ingo reached up with a smile in his eyes and gave the hair hanging down two gentle tugs.

Emmet locked his jaw, physically preventing himself from breaking into a grin. “We are human right now, Ingo. Act your age.”

---

Months passed with little change. There wasn’t so much to adjust to, going from Zubat to Golbat to Crobat-- just minor amenities the previous forms had lacked, and one secondary pair of wings. Nailing the timing to keep them all in sync and himself airborne was arguably the steepest learning curve Emmet faced, and once he got it down-- equal and opposite, funny enough-- it was a cinch.

They revisited the topic of evolution order multiple times, either twin trying to bend it to their advantage as circumstance presented, and while Emmet had poked fun, he was… beginning to wonder.

Physically, there had been small changes to accommodate, but internally, he felt sturdier, stronger in ways he couldn’t have anticipated back when he was still a Zubat. Ingo didn’t seem to be in any hurry to pursue evolution, and that was perfectly fine-- unevolved Pokemon could be just as capable as their other forms, given the right training and strategies-- but it wasn’t just that. There was a hesitation whenever the matter came up absent the facetious tones they often fell into, an eagerness to shut the conversation down or change topics.

Emmet had once asked, in jest, if Ingo thought they had enough battle points to acquire a razor fang, and while the response had been perfectly composed, the discomfort that set into his brother’s form was easy to spot.

Having no desire to evolve was one thing. Being afraid of the prospect was something else entirely. In that sense, it was fortunate that Gliscor evolved in such a specific way-- there was no threat of a spontaneous, hiccuping evolution-- but Emmet knew his twin. If Ingo wasn’t forced to confront something, he’d be happy to make an indefinite detour around the affected track.

He didn’t want to force anything on his brother-- neither his opinion nor evolution itself-- but he did want to understand what was going on.

Passing his recent acquisition from palm to palm, Emmet chewed on his lip, deep in thought; had anyone been around to observe, the twins would have been indistinguishable in that moment.

Eventually, he schooled his features-- a futile endeavor in and of itself, but the faint smile was for his sake, not to try to fool Ingo-- and headed over to confront his brother.

“I have a question,” He said before he could think better of it.

It was answered by a hum of acknowledgment as Ingo maneuvered to look at him over the bulk of Eelektross’s body, and a waiting silence.

Emmet hesitated.

“It is not meant to be a leading question. I simply want to understand.”

Ingo’s brow furrowed and, as if in conference, Eelektross turned to blink at him, then to its trainer. Emmet himself jerked his head toward the kitchen, silently asking the eel to give them a moment, and it slipped away with only a quiet groan of complaint.

“You do not want to evolve. Why?”

There was a long break while Ingo processed that. Finally, he said, “I’m content as I am, is that not enough?”

“It’s a perfectly valid reason, yes. But that is not why you shy away from the subject every time it comes up. Again, I just want to understand.”

Ingo took a deep breath and, slowly, let it out. “Evolution is a very prompt, very permanent change, as you’re no doubt aware. I’m glad that your evolved forms have suited you, but am… not so confident that mine is right for me.”

Emmet cocked his head, getting slightly waylaid in spite of himself, “Gliscor are strong and tough. Physical attackers like you favor. Useful typing. Capable of Earthquake. Potential for verrrry strong combinations. I fail to see the problem.”

A hint of a grimace flashed through the crease of his brother’s eyes, but was quickly smoothed over, “While all of that is true, I’m afraid the species is also saddled with a rather… unsavory connotation. No Pokemon can be handled without risk, I understand that of course, but people seem to find Gliscor in particular-- shall we say off putting?”

Scary. The word he was skirting around was ‘scary’, and suddenly it all made a lot of sense. Ingo’s relative inability to shift away from his severe resting expression tended to draw attention, and that was very rarely a good thing. On one hand, maybe a Gliscor’s ever-present smile might help remedy the situation; on the other, it might only make things worse, pinging off of humanity’s underdeveloped sense for danger.

“Ah,” Emmet eventually said, “I see. Thank you for humoring me.”

There was a tense, expectant pause, broken only by, “You’re not going to argue with me?”

He gave his head a shake, shifting uncomfortably under his twin’s attention-- it was an unfamiliar feeling, and he didn’t enjoy the novelty of it one bit. “I knew discussion of it was beginning to wear on you. My intent was to learn why and to avoid the topic in the future.”

Taking mercy on his brother, Ingo’s gaze slid away to an undefined point beyond his shoulder, “Then you’ll find that you’ve reached your destination.”

Emmet stepped closer so he could perch on the arm of the couch, tilting to rest the side of his head against Ingo’s.

“I’m sorry.”

Without looking or making any move that might dislodge him, Ingo reached up to lay a warm hand on his arm.

“As you’ve said, you were only trying to make sense of the situation; there’s no need to apologize for that.”

Humming in something that was neither agreement nor argument, Emmet switched tracks, “You aren’t scary.”

“And I’m sure Gliscor can be perfectly wonderful companions in spite of their own reputation,” Ingo said dryly, “At this junction, however, I would prefer not to press my luck.”

He sighed against his twin’s crown, causing a section of hair to flutter in the artificial breeze, “That is entirely reasonable.”

There was a thin laugh in response, a weak, but legitimate attempt at levity, “I do have my moments.”

Pushing off of Ingo’s shoulder, Emmet pivoted and, finally, offered the item he’d been toying with for the entire conversation. The polished piece of eviolite was warm from the constant handling, this particular specimen erring more toward pink than it did purple-- color hadn’t initially been on his list of criteria, but there was certainly a meaning to be read into it now.

“For you,” He said rather unnecessarily, highlighting the words by physically tipping it into Ingo’s unoccupied hand before his brother had a chance to respond.

Ingo blinked down at it, and then looked back to Emmet, who was struck once again by how sad it was, how few people would recognize the joy that showed in every aspect save for his twin’s lips.

The vulnerable moment was left behind them as Ingo asked, “Do I want to know how you acquired this?”

And, without missing a beat, Emmet said back, “No you do not.”

---

There was a very clear turning point in Ingo’s opinion on evolving, a wonderful example of the impact good publicity could create.

It was a shift on the standard multi lines and their opponents’ combination of Tyranitar and Gliscor had proven a competent match for that day’s team. The usually-wicked chain of Crustle’s Sturdy, rocky helmet and Flail certainly wore the bat down, but despite their bugs’ best efforts, type advantages had simply won out.

At Emmet’s side, Ingo took a breath to congratulate their challengers, and habit carried him through the script as Emmet grabbed him by the wrist and dragged him over, raising a hand to stop the Gliscor’s trainer before they could recall it.

Bemused by the change of pace, the trainer humored him, their Pokemon glancing uncertainly between the parties involved. It had been a short conversation-- lasting only until the challengers were set to depart-- and while he wasn’t usually one to lead, in this instance Emmet had been happy to guide the discussion, asking after the teen’s history with it and how it fared outside of a battle facility.

Taking up the reins left Ingo to focus on the Pokemon itself, which was a nice bonus. Clearly the Gliscor recognized that something was afoot, even if not specifically what-- jaws parted to scent the air and eyes narrowed, perplexed. At one point, Emmet looked over to catch it raising one wing, trying to herd what it must have thought a very strange Gligar beneath it.

It had been a sweet Pokemon, and a very good learning experience.

Coincidences aside, though, Emmet wasn’t in the habit of pushing an evolutionary agenda. While he might try to soothe his brother’s anxieties where the species was concerned, he wholly accepted Ingo’s reasoning, and anything he encouraged was strictly for comfort’s sake.

So it was something of a surprise when, months down the line, Ingo asked if Emmet would mind holding onto something for him for the evening. Because they both knew he couldn’t resist, there had been no protest as he’d unfolded the extra pair of gloves to find a razor fang at its heart. Somewhere between comprehension and ignorance, he looked up.

“It seems prudent to have one on hand, just in case.” Had been Ingo’s only explanation.

And, well… that was progress. There was a certain amount of self-loathing to Ingo’s opinion on evolution that seemed unhealthy, and it was a comfort to see it begin to ease. Whether or not he would ever use the razor fang was a moot point; the only thing that mattered was that he wasn’t so vehemently opposed to the thought.

As before, the specter of evolution drifted quietly into the background.

---

Like any carnivorous bat, the subject swooped back into the fray without warning.

“Would you… mind staying with me, if I were to evolve?” Ingo asked one evening, apropos nothing.

Emmet waited several seconds for the full context, until he realized the delay seemed to be making his twin nervous. “Of course not. What is the rest of this hypothetical?”

“Ah.” Awkwardly, he forced his attention off of the floor and met Emmet’s eyes, “It’s not a hypothetical question. I think I’m ready. To… evolve.”

The train of thought slowly pulled into its charted destination, and as soon as it did, he bristled, “You do not need to do so. We have covered this. Did something happen?”

“Nothing in particular, no; I’ve just been affording it some more thought, lately, and this was the station I arrived at.”

“Because it is what you want?” Emmet demanded.

“Yes. Mostly.” At the look the amendment earned him, Ingo raised his hands in self defense, “I still have my concerns, but at this point in time, not knowing is worse. The longer I humor that anticipation, the greater it becomes.”

“So what you actually want is to get it over with.”

“I… suppose that’s an accurate assessment.”

Asking if he was certain would only make the situation worse. Surely Ingo had already given this plenty of thought-- he’d had years to consider it, after all. That he was only bringing it up now carried a great deal of weight.

So, without any further challenging words, Emmet held up his arms in invitation; Ingo accepted it with a surprising readiness, belying just how nervous he really was.

He needed something else to focus on, to distract him from the unease of deciding upon a drastic change of course after so long. Emmet could do that.

“Do you know where your razor fang is?” He asked, and could feel the indignant shiver running through his brother at the suggestion that he hadn’t thought that far ahead. Personally, Emmet thought it was a valid question; while it was far more likely that Ingo had checked and double-checked before making any declarative statements, there was always a chance the Joltik had spirited it away in the past five minutes.

Mutely, Ingo nodded to where Chandelure was hovering near the ceiling, one iron limb curled around the be-gloved fang.

Fair enough. If there was one way to ward Joltik off, that was probably it. He didn’t actually think she would do anything to the little bugs, but they would have to learn a healthy respect for her someday, and if that was today, then it was their own fault; the last thing he wanted to do right now was pluck one out of her personal space and get zapped for the effort.

Not for the first time, Emmet spared a thought for the indignity of having a type vulnerability to his own Pokemon, only for his twin to be utterly immune. Somewhere out there, Arceus was laughing.

There was nothing for it. He had more important matters to address.

While Ingo stepped away to call Chandelure down, he made no move to relieve her of her cargo, rightfully wary of handling the razor fang so long after sunset. She handed it over to Emmet without any fuss and, having overcome the anti-spider measures, he turned his attention back to the present.

“Where would you like to be for this?”

“The living room, I think,” A hesitation, and then, “Where you evolved.”

Ah. Well, perhaps Emmet should have seen that coming; his brother was a sentimental sap, and he loved him for it.

It took no time at all to get situated, leaving little more than to wait for Ingo’s lead. With a deep, bracing breath, he yielded to the smaller form of a Gligar, but it took a moment more for him to work up the nerve to open his eyes and greet the reality he was headed toward.

Unbothered, hands free of the evolutionary aid, Emmet steadied him, “Are you prepared for departure?”

There was a stiff nod against his chest, the pincers holding onto his arms trembling from the effort of staying somewhat slack. Before moving to take the fang up again, he moved one hand to either side of Ingo’s head and turned his face up.

“I will see you in just a moment.” He promised, and simultaneously pressed a kiss between long ears and the razor fang to a fluttering chest.

---

Evolution wasn’t like a case of the hiccups, it was the deep inhalation one took to choke them out. Doing so wasn’t necessary-- life would go on either way-- but if one so chose, they could take the plunge and hold their breath.

It was a building tension, a burning, overflowing wealth of energy begging to be set free, to show the world what it could do. It was also a sigh of relief as that potential found purchase and settled into what it was meant to be.

Where his head nestled against Emmet’s chest, a shuddering breath escaped Ingo, and he wasn’t entirely sure what emotion he could ascribe it to. For simplicity’s sake he might call it relief, but there were more layers to it than that might imply; not only that nothing had gone wrong, but also that the decision had been made. There was no going back. No matter what happened from here on out, his only recourse would be to make it work.

That was doable.

He stayed there a little while longer, larger arms more easily curving around his brother to maintain their hold; he slowly unfurled his wings, testing how it worked now that they were their own limbs, independent of the others. This quiet introspection was interrupted by laughter stifled against the top of his head.

With a chirp-- meaningless, save for its questioning note-- Ingo looked up at the culprit.

“Oh, you stopped.” Emmet said, complaint evident in his words, as if he hadn’t been the very thing to distract Ingo from… whatever it was he’d apparently been doing. Stretching his wings? He supposed he had drawn them back at the noise.

Puzzled, he spread them out again, to his twin’s further amusement.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m not entirely sure. You’re the one who was disappointed that I stopped.”

“Not that. You were chattering verrrry quietly. Low like a rumbling engine. It was cute.”

He was?

Oh. Yes. He’d overlooked the subconscious rolling of his vocal cords. In actuality, calling it ‘chattering’ was wholly inaccurate; it was, without a trace of doubt, a sustained purr. Suddenly very aware of himself, Ingo preemptively went to muffle any other noise he might make.

“Noooo,” Emmet laughed, all delighted dismay as he humored the wide face burrowing into his shirt, “Don’t be embarrassed!”

It was met by an undignified squeak of, “Then stop trying to embarrass me!”

“Oh, Ingo.” He drawled, amusement audible in spite of his ever-consistent tone, “I don’t have to try. You do it to yourself.”

He grumbled into the thin white fabric, distinct from the soft, content purr. Maybe he could try something else, experiment with a screech or non-offensive growl to distract from the incident. While it didn’t bother him, everything he vocalized was lower than it used to be, and it would take some getting used to.

He wondered, vaguely, if his larger stature meant he had access to his full lung capacity.

After a minute, he stopped theorizing and gathered his courage, emerging from his ineffectual hiding spot.

Emmet beamed at him, taking his face in both hands once more.

“There you are.” He said, and proved unable to resist ruffling his twin, fingers working into the coarse fur at his cheeks, “Better?”

One ear twitched and, methodically, Ingo ran through his systems, testing claws and wings and giving his tail an experimental thump; it was two-pronged now, the stinger substantially larger, lacking the dimorphic sizing in this secondary form. Different, yes, but not in a bad way. There was something about it that felt like holding his eviolite for the first time-- a protective layer establishing itself between himself and the world at large.

It made sense from a logical standpoint; a Gliscor’s defensive stats were higher than a Gligar’s, which was precisely what the eviolite was meant to emulate. Feeling it as an intrinsic part of his carapace, though, was bizarre.

“I believe it will be, with time.”

And, since the immediate concern had passed, of course it was open season.

“Now you get to learn how to fly properly. Your ‘membranes’ excuse has run out.”

Without removing himself from the couch, Ingo flapped his wings, just once. While he’d done his research ahead of time, the firsthand sense of it only drove home the fact that they were meant for catching a breeze and riding it; he likely could create an updraft, but it wasn’t an ideal application.

“Where’s Archeops?” Ingo asked instead of any proper reply, “I need to speak with him about forming a coalition. Perhaps then you’ll accept that not everyone with wings travels the way you do.”

“You are correct. Winged creatures generally do not take the subway. All three of us are outliers.”

Emmet managed to keep a mostly-straight face until Ingo craned up to nip at the ends of his hair, unimpressed. “Ah! None of that anymore! You’re a big Gliscor now. You should know better.”

He rolled his eyes-- to a bark of laughter-- and backed off, straightening, finally, to human form.

Everything felt normal. He glanced to Emmet for confirmation, judging via his twin’s expression, and found his attention lingering just a moment longer than expected. Before Ingo could ask, however, he met his eyes once more and broke out into a relaxed smile.

“I am happy that you’re happy.”