#i learned what a guzma is tonight

[maxskulline]

Although the door closes with but a silent click, and it is her own hand that turns the lock, the sound cuts through her loudly enough to startle - and to worry, no matter how improbable the possibility, that someone might have heard. Doors in this house hardly ever stay shut, and - to the great amusement of those who don’t understand what it is like to live under constant scrutiny, who only see a large mansion with many, many rooms -  privacy is a cherished luxury. It is all thanks to the obsessive need for control and a sprinkle of paranoia her parents nurture so carefully, perhaps more carefully than they had ever nurtured her. It is not out of love that her mother and father keep such a close watch, or out of need to protect their only daughter. It is simply because Maxine Sullivan doesn’t like to play by the rules and they’re terrified that she’ll be the one to burn their status to the ground. 

Because she’s careless. Because they had wasted time and money to try and break her in like a wild horse, only for her to buck and break the reins and run off wherever she wanted to. At the age of nineteen, people share talk as to why she isn’t wed yet, a pretty thing like her, and it always falls back to the failure of her parents. Most suitors don’t like that she isn’t docile, that she can’t hold that sharp and sometimes arrogant tongue, while others tend to see it as a challenge. Taming this wild horse would surely feed their own fragile ego. After all, they believe it is a man’s duty to teach a woman her place.

But it is of no matter. She had learned to dodge these watchful ears and eyes a long time ago, learned to win the servants to her side so that they will not speak of her nightly escapes. Having allies is a good thing - even if it shocked her to find out that all it took was a bit of genuine kindness, gratitude and an extra coin of silver each to win their loyalty. 

Without these nightly escapes, she would be lost. It is the only time she can leave behind her prison and taste a life she might lead if the world was a little kinder to women. It is how she came to meet him  - and the very reason why she stands with her back against her bedroom door, one hand still on the handle, with a thundering heart so violent it might as well stop. Only eventually does Max let go, pry herself from the door and prowl through her room until her reflection catches her eye momentarily - and she stops the restless commotion.

Admittedly, when Max goes out, she hardly pays attention to the garments she chooses, or what her hair looks like, or if she is wearing a smile at all. It is the only time she gets to make that decision. No one else. But the woman staring back at her now, she reminds Max of someone else. Someone she has seen today - someone she maybe shouldn’t have seen, but couldn’t pry her eyes away from either way. 

Max can feel her breath hitch a little when the memories bury her like an avalanche, although it fills her with pure heat. Her own eyes are wide and curious, and a little daring - but that woman’s eyes were shut while her head had rolled back against her lover’s shoulder. She wonders if her reflection is what she looked like as she had watched them, just a moment before Guzma caught her in the act, before-

Her hands fist the fabric of her skirts, because she doesn’t know what to do with them right now. Because there’s the nightly escapades - and then there is this. Threading into a territory that most consider forbidden outside the laws of marriage. Why ever someone would call it sinful is beyond her, not when those lovers from earlier had looked so beautiful and so serene with each other. Max rakes her eyes up and down her own reflection and suddenly decides that she cannot bear the feeling of material on her skin. That she wants - she wants to see herself. 

With steady fingers, button by button the emerald silk peels off and reveals comfortable undergarments instead of the usual constricting cage. These join the pool of fabric by her feet too. Max turns this side and then the other, taking in herself in a way she had not dared to before. She knows her mother hates her freckles. It is for this sole reason Max loves her speckled skin all the more, and in the candlelight, they almost look like dust of pure copper. Unbinding her hair until the fiery locks fall loosely over her shoulders, she notices that her breasts are certainly not as full as she had seen on the woman from earlier. Yet, somehow, they suit her - small and plump and maybe just the right shape to fill one’s hand. Max walks a little closer to the mirror. One hand traces from collarbone to the soft curve below, mimicking the way this woman’s lover had touched her. Although her mind is already painting a new scene, until it is no longer the woman she’s watching. The hands touching her are larger, rough and calloused from reckless nights spent inside the ring, their skin contrasting as if he were the sun and she is the moon. 

Her eyes flutter shut and her breathing turns a little harsher. If he were here behind her, her head would roll back against his shoulder. His hands - just like her own are doing now - would tease her, roll her nipples until he has Max squirming. Then they’d trace lower, over the soft panes of her stomach. Maybe he’d stop and wonder why her ribs feel so sharp, but he wouldn’t say a word because it is Max’s choice to make. His fingers would circle her bellybutton while his lips press kiss after heated kiss into the junction between shoulder and neck, maybe scrape his teeth against her ear just to see her writhe again.

When she returns to her reflection and she only sees herself in the mirror, she buckles under the sudden weight of longing. Of wanting. It is the one feeling she had kept at bay so hard tonight, ever since she had seen Guzma in the arms of a young man while sharing kisses with another woman. She was only stopped from storming out of his mansion by the captivating sight of two strangers entangled in their passion, their beauty so captivating that Max had gladly forgotten the sting of jealousy in her heart. That they didn’t mind her audience filled her both with excitement and heated shame for wanting to see.... more. Frozen in her spot, Max’s wide eyes had followed the way the man’s hand dipped between the blonde woman’s legs, teasing and testing, suddenly ignorant to any watchful eyes, as if they were the only people in the world. If she had thought her heart was racing then, if she thought she felt hot and troubled then, it was no match to the moment Guzma stepped up behind her - silent at first, but Max knew he was there. Putting up a good act of ignoring him, it wasn’t long until the king of mirth and revel began to hate her silence. 

If only he knew how he shattered her, how she wished to give in then. To break free from rules and from constrictions and not care if anyone saw them - but they couldn’t. Max wasn’t ready for the risk it imposed just yet. And what would she do, anyway? She knows nothing of this world - his - world. In the end, she may only disappoint him with her inexperience. 

Now, Max leaves behind the mirror and, naked as she was, allowed the bed to swallow her whole. Her skin felt too hot to be comfortable, haunted by the words he had whispered to her that very same night. She couldn’t crawl under the sheets lest she burn to death, so she lay sprawled on her huge bed instead, a copper halo of hair fanned out to all sides. With knees bent only a little, curious fingers resumed their exploration from earlier, hoping to ease some of the heat by allowing herself to follow his sinful command.

                      ‘Tonight, I want you to touch yourself.’

Oh, and what a command it had been. At first she couldn’t believe her ears, until Guzma ensnared her body by trapping her chin in place, fixing her eyes on the lovers ahead. The writhing woman, now panting softly when his hand picked up pace, bucked into it and left Max beyond flustered. ‘You never touch yourself, do you? You’ve never seen anything like this.’ Guzma’s remarks stung a little, reminded Max all too painfully of her own innocence. Of what she might have missed out on. Of what women were to miss out on if they followed the rules of this wretched society.

So she had jutted her chin forward, shielding a very wounded pride as much as she could. 

                       ‘And what if I do? What do you hope to accomplish from this, my lord?’ 

Despite his touch and the way he held her chin, Guzma did not intend to go any further. He didn’t need to - his voice was effective enough. 

                  ‘When you touch yourself,’ he murmured, his voice so very close to her ear that she could feel every syllable grazing it. ‘Look closely. I want you to put your hand between your legs just like he does with her.’ It was obscene at first, though now, Max can’t help but spread her legs wider. Exhilarated by the knowledge of doing a forbidden thing, she draws in a sharp hiss when her fingers first find the hot and slick flesh between her thighs. Thinking once again that she is the ravished woman in the parlor, and it is Guzma’s skillful hand who all but spreads her to the hungry eyes of a girl who is so ready to break free.

Teeth dig into the flesh of her lip, muffling a moan when she runs two fingers between the soft folds, arching into her own touch. She finds a particularly pleasurable spot she fixates on, her mind suddenly running wild with the idea of Guzma’s mouth on her, or how incredible it would feel if it were his tongue instead of his fingers - although she hates and curses every part of him right now, for making her want so much. 

             ‘When you come back to me, I want you to tell me everything you thought of.’ He can go to hell. She will do no such thing, nor give him the satisfaction of knowing he was with her all through the night. Applying pressure to this sensitive spot has her gasping sharply, suddenly careless about the noises that might be heard down the dark hallway. With her other hand, she circles her nipples again, and her hips find their own rhythm, too - rutting into the palm of her hand now, struggling against the desire to explore further, to find out what it feels like to be filled. The woman had loved it when her lover entered her with two fingers, rode herself on him until she begged for another, a plea he was all too happy to obligue. They had dragged it out for as long as Max could bear it, until she thought she might burn up on the spot. Max was nearly dizzy with need when the woman cried out and he held her against his chest, kissing her face, kissing her neck, stroking her trembling body - if it weren’t for the giddy smile on her lips, she would’ve believed her in pain. 

Now she knows that she must have been consumed by a fire, the very same fire that begins to fill her body and endlessly builds up. Her skin gleams, her muscles are tense and trembling while her hand moves harder, faster, desperate to find relief from it all. She thinks of the sounds this woman made, thinks of Guzma’s breath against her neck, thinks of the times she had seen his body move while he fought, wonders if his muscles would move the same way while he claimed her. Yet it is this one shattering thought that ultimately pushes her over the edge when she comes and cries into the crook of her arm, shaking with the force of a fever, curling up and clenching her fists into the pillow beneath: he was watching her the entire time... while she tried so hard to ignore his presence in her back, while the two people before them looked so beautiful, Guzma’s eyes were on her. 

She can hardly stop gasping. 

‘I want you to tell me how you felt when you broke free from these strings that still hold you. Because, my darling Maxine,’ he had said, reaching for her gloved hand, loosing finger by finger until he slipped it off and kissed the top of her bare hand. She’ll never forget the lilac of his eyes when he looked at her, leaving a mark not only on her skin but her soul - her very being, as this night easily proved. 

               ‘Because if you can’t even allow yourself the right to your own body, how can you say that you truly live a free life?

Eventually, the tremors ease. Although her body feels pliant and soft, and she doesn’t trust her legs to keep her standing. Sprawled on the sheets like a flat pudding, she still finds herself unable to care if anyone heard her - it makes her smile to care so little. In fact, a part of her almost hopes that someone heard and that it brings them terror. The terror to know that their daughter can’t be tamed, nor that she’ll keep herself from finding the pleasure that she finally had her first taste of. If she’ll end up touching herself for every night to come, they can’t stop her - it is her body, and she is the only person on earth who has a right to it. And, if she were to give it to anybody, it’d be her choice.

Though for all the... liberating wisdom he had shared with her tonight, it remains to be seen if she’ll ever grant Guzma this privilegue. He is an ass.

 It would be a most deserving punishment to leave him wanting for the truth, just as he had left her wanting for his touch. 

[smilingperformer]

It kinda occured to me that we have no idea what’s up next after Ilima episodes. New summaries might start popping up next week, but if I had to guess...

- Pheromosa would probably be the next UB, and and if we’re to judge UB appearance locations by how Buzzwole appeared in the same place in both the Pokemon Sun and Pokeani, I’d guess Pheromosa is gonna appear where it appears in Pokemon Moon: Verdant Cavern. The Trial Site. Since it’s a bug-type, I can see Torracat being used against it. I wonder what kind of quirk it’d involve thou. It is UB: Beauty after all!

- Judging from Skull Gang making a return, and some merchandise advertising Golisopod, a lot of people believe Guzma might be upon us. And that might be the case, thou I think Nanu and Acerola would need to be introduced first. They all first appear in Ula Ula Island in the games, so I’d believe for that to be the case in the anime, unless Acerola actually becomes a student. But with Nanu being Kahuna, Ula Ula is bound to happen during this arc!

- Rowlet might have a focus episode! He hasn’t had one since its capture (unless we count the Alola Trio adventure where focus was on Rowlet, Popplio and Litten equally), its main focus has been in battles and being adorable fluffball. As much as I’ve loved seeing its every scene, I think it’s time it learned at least a new move, and then eventually evolve.

- Also, Poipole is still to be re-appearing after the start of UB Arc. It’s clear that they’re taking their time with this arc, and slowly introducing different elements, such as Alolan Meowth, Poipole, Ultra Guardians, Skull Gang being back, etc. I somehow feel that Pokeani Team’s got a plan that they’re following, and so far my faith in them hasn’t failed. : D Not caunting Passimian, that was only a wish, something I knew was a 50/50 chance. But knowing how Aether Arc would happen when it did, knowing Skull Gang will come back... I’m scared how far my faith will carry me :’DDD

I’m rambling a lot tonight again, but I like keeping my thoughts in check. So, tumblr it is.

[detamarind]

Building Block (Guzma/Mom)

Continuation from Restoration on AO3. 

Guzma has been very patient.  (explicit)

Note: Just found this in my drafts from the beginning of the year! Oops.

Guzma had to be honest: he had reservations going into a relationship with Sun’s mother. These doubts did not revolve around her, but himself. Hala told him what a wreck he was and he couldn't deny it. She had her shit together whereas he had an embarrassing portfolio of fragility. It would be impossible to dance around his past and expect a relationship to work. He had to acknowledge his mess. For any chance with her, Guzma had to fix it all.

So, he came to realize change around Sun’s mother wasn't hard. He acclimated to her needs readily that he didn't question it. Around others, however, was proving to be a challenge. Considerable effort was required to swallow his pride and force himself to see Hala’s truths. It was only by coincidence this happened after the Kahuna pummeled him. Not long after brought him to an encounter with Plumeria following this so-called ‘new path’. The formalities lasted mere minutes before her anger resurfaced and she opted to knock him down a peg through battle. She almost forgave him after that, too. Also, strangely, he began to find Kukui less annoying these days. 

There will always be more work to undo, he knows, but in exchange for a lifetime with her it was worth it. It was weird to think about how Sun factored into all this---as the main instigator.

The kid beat him good and, while he will never say it, but he is grateful for the result. It was what led him to let go of the resentment which Skull stemmed from and into continuing to where he left off with Hala so many years ago. Not too long after, he had his fateful meeting with Sun’s mother. Thinking about it, he can’t help but chuckle under his breath.

“Guzma?”

“Hm?” Guzma tilts his head up slightly on the closed hand under his jaw toward the woman sitting across him at the table.

The woman wears a familiar set of sunglasses on top of her head and smiles. “You just laughed.” She sets down her cup, its contents cooled down to a preferable warmth. “What were you remembering?”

“Nah.” He shakes his head, mirroring her smile. “Nothing big.”

“Oh? And here I thought my joke from earlier was still a hit.”

He offers her a smirk as he crosses his arms and leans back in his seat with closed eyes, another laugh emerging from him. “Now that you mention it.” He feels something strike on his shoulder lightly. 

“Enough you.” She closes her eyes, hand empty from whatever she had thrown by her head. “No need to sugarcoat.” 

“Hey,” he leans forward, arms folded on the table’s surface, “I can’t help it if that’s what I want to do.”

“Praise?”

“Yeah. You, in particular.” 

She stands up, walks behind Guzma, and rests her hands on his shoulders. “Would you like to see the Ride Show with me tonight?”

“Yeah, but,” his hand overlays hers on his left, “the show starts pretty late, we got time to kill until then.”

“Hm. I don’t know. We could,” Guzma can hear her feigned obliviousness, “but what would we do?”

He snorts, a smile on his face. “Got some ideas,” he says quietly. He stands up, movements quick to catch her imbalance at the slight shock of change in positions. “Just a suggestion,” he whispers.

Her eyes soften and Guzma leans in to kiss her gently. Her hands roam up his arms to fold behind his neck. It’s a simple encouragement that brings his own hands around her waist, feeling her over her thin shirt.

Guzma had not become too intimate with Sun’s mother. The most they had done is similar to the current situation. Her fingers of one hand combing his hair while the other grips tightly to the collar of his jacket. He is spurred to draw more of her reactions, escalate their fervor. He leaves her lips to kiss her chin and jaw, drawing small gasps from her.

“Yeah? You like that?” Guzma whispers against her neck, making sure to linger his breaths on her moistened skin.

“Oh, Guzma. That’s–” A whine starts from the back of her throat. The sound is so encouraging. Guzma closes his lips along the skin of her neck, thoroughly tasting as his arms enclose her.

“Ahn!”

“You’re the best.” He says into her skin, nipping the skin below her ear with another hand moving to cradle her breast. He massages her gently through her shirt, allowing himself and her to become lost in their desire. 

In a sudden move, Guzma brings his hands under butt to lift her feet off the ground. He takes a few steps forward to settle her on the countertop. He breaks from ravaging her neck and collar, to look at her flustered face, elevating his lust to an insatiable level, and closes the gap between them.

“Going to give you everything you want.” Guzma says against her lips.

Without delaying a beat, she answers hurriedly, “yes.”

Guzma is hungry, to put it lightly, and he is going to get himself a snack. His hand runs under her skirt to squeeze her inner thigh. His fingers are firm as they move to press against the moist cloth and her breaths become quicker, breaking from his kiss. He takes the opportunity to push her skirt high and give himself a view of the front of her panties.

“Soaking.”

“Hnn.” She moans.

“Your boy’s got this.” Guzma presses his face forward, nose and mouth against the damp material, with a deep breath.

“Mmm!”

His hand comes to tease her taint and another hold her steady at her lower back. Guzma licks along the skin where her thigh and vulva meet, peppering kisses as another hands grips the opposite thigh and, thumb teasing hair and moist flesh.

He draws on her inner thigh with slow ministrations from his tongue as his hand moves onto her covered vulva. He bites tentatively onto the skin, eliciting louder cries from her. He can feel the heat and wetness immensely, so his fingers follow the silent pleas to move under the material to rub over her folds.

“Mm,” her hips lightly rock, “Guzma.”

He presses two fingers in immediately, with his mouth following to lick along the exposed flesh until his tongue meets her clitoris.

“Ah!”

One of Guzma’s hand moves higher along her side to her waist and then up to her breast while the other remains feeling the walls of her vagina. He grips her chest through her shirt tightly and soon has two of her hands holding onto his head and hair, keeping him in place. He angles his head to the side, swiping his tongue more thoroughly around her clitoris and towards her vagina. His tongue teases the vaginal opening with quick through stokes, barely hearing his name as a melody from her. Her feet secure themselves behind his back and he swiftly adds another finger and his tongue to the rhythm at her vagina, lips still at work.

He feels her movements inside, constricting on him in pulses and moves quicker, letting himself get lost to her whims. He lowers his hand to grip her waist and brings his mouth to her clitoris once again, lips carefully securing the organ with his tongue offering a flick in between his movements. 

Suddenly, the hands on his head break him away as he is lifted to meet her mouth in a kiss and his fingers are clenched in a convulse. She separates her mouth from his with deep breaths as he continues kissing to her chin and ear, fingers still slow within her. 

"Gu-” Her body locks up as the ringing of a phone fills the house.

“Oh!” She hops off the counter and answers the phone on the table in a display of impressive recovery. “Sun!”

Guzma restrains his comments as he wipes his face with a sleeve. This kid…

“Mhm! Yep. No problem.” She nods. “Bye!”

“What is it?” He asks with an elbow on a counter-top and a palm holding his disinterested face.

“Sun will be here for dinner soon! I’m sorry, Guzma, but I have to start cooking if I want to have a meal done on time.” She looks around the kitchen before facing him. “Can you help?”

“Uh, yeah, sure. I can do that.” This will be his first time facing the kid after...well.

“Great! What are your specialties?” She brings out a pot and a basket of berries.

“Um,” he scratches the back of his neck, “I guess…Malasada?”

Her eyes shine wide. “You can make malasadas!?”

He grins and feels pride. “Yeah! I can make ‘em quick, too.”

“Oh my goodness! You are so skilled, Guzma.”

“What can I say?” Guzma glows. “I give my woman what she wants.”

She flushes. “I’ll make sure to learn every step. Although, I can’t promise I will be able to recreate it with one demonstration.”

“That’s okay. I can always give extra lessons.”

“Guzma!” She swats his arm with more force than he expects. “Sun will be here soon!”

Note: Kukui, Guzma, and Mother are all the same age, right? Kukui and Guzma are alluded to be the same age and Mother mentioned seeing Kukui when she was younger, so I assume they are? 

It’s never head for head. 

[londonfog-chan]

Guzma x Reader: "Mima"

I HAVE to write more Guzma inserts for some fucking reason and I don’t know why because I’m garbage at writing but this has to come out so work with me people.

I’m sorry my writing sucks. I tried. I really tried.

“Jeez fuck! You wiped the floor with me! Fucking kick ass Pokémon you got there. What’s your name brat?”

Why… Why do they always want to talk?! Talking was such an unnecessary tool. You’d worked around it for years, didn’t need any friends or familiar acquaintances to prattle with. The only friends you needed were your Pokémon, but it seemed that the people of the world were still determined to know you. It had to have been the way you battled, stomping a foot here, slapping a thigh, your Pokémon experts by now at learning your body language. A showy tactic meant to distract people from the fact that you could not speak properly. Or perhaps it was your Salazzle, Opal, her namesake due to the sheen of her white scales that reflected a rainbow in just the right light.

But why do they seek conversation? Can’t they understand that all you want is blessed silence, to collect your winnings and go on to live away from your father, away from that speech therapist…

“Hey! I’m talkin’ to you, what’s your name?”

He’s extremely confrontational, getting into your personal space and making sure his face is inches away from yours. He won’t let you look away, and no amount of closing your eyes will make him leave. Your hand is on a green and black pokeball, instinctively tapping a finger on it to let the creature inside know, your Clove, that he needs to save you and fast.

“M-Mim… Mi… Mim… Ah…” you gurgle, feeling the muscles in your face tighten, trying to summon your faithful little friend with his species name. It’s been a long time since he’d been called Mimikyu, so he hesitates in escaping and wonders curiously why you’re calling someone else yet tapping on his ball with attack commands.

“Mima?”

You look up, his sour face melting into confusion much like your own.

“Hey… That’s kind of an adorable name.” he says at last, “What is it like, foreign or some shit like that right? Shit’s cute. Real cute. I’m Guzma, nice to meetcha Mima.”

Again your cheek and jaw muscles tighten, straight up lockjaw by this point. That always happens when others take the gobbledygook you spit out of context. But a correction can’t come no matter how hard you wish it. Can’t manage to correct him and tell him your name isn’t even close to being ‘Mima’ it’s actually-

“Hey Mima… So uh… Sorry but, I ain’t got the money you need.”

What? He’s kidding. Please say he’s kidding… You need that money. It’s all you’ve been looking forward to today. It would cover at least one more night at the motel and a bag of chips before you were kicked out from that little hovel. It’s the least he can do for forcing you into this shitty one sided conversation. You stomp the ground and pout, holding out your hand.

“Your little Meowth was wearing an amulet coin right? And ain’t it something like 20% of a tip for winnings? Sorry cutie, ain’t got that kind of dough.”

He shrugs with an apologetic look. This will not do. You stamp your foot and hold out your hand again. Cough it up, your body says, I ain’t got all day.

“Woah now little lady, don’t need to get a pissy attitude.” Guzma says, clearly laughing at your intent to be intimidating, “Hey, I gotta better idea. You hungry? Why don’t you let ya boy take you out for something delicious? Least I can do for that hell of a good battle you gave me. You’re straight up savage girl! And that Salazzle, shit’s shiny right?! Fucking tits. You like malasadas? I betcha you’re the kind of girl who likes a spicy malasada.”

You wanted to scream. You wanted to protest that food wasn’t going to keep you out of the heat nor would it solve the problem of where you were going to sleep tonight. Food for now wouldn’t suffice for later when you were scrounging up pennies to take a break from those damn beans and get at least a can of wet Pokémon food for your little Meowth, the sweet little Cupcake who never complained and even offered to share her food with you. Opal made due with tearing into Poké beans, but you always managed to save her something. This wouldn’t do at all.

Violently you shook your head and held out your palm to receive the money, but of course your shut mouth only misconstrued the action. Guzma grinned widely and took your hand in his.

“Excited for a date ain’tcha?” he laughed, “I like a forward kind of girl. Not much of a talker though ain’tcha? But that’s ok! Actions speak louder than words I guess!”

Honestly, you didn’t know what to do. Defeated, hungry and resigned to the fact that you would probably be sleeping behind the dump of the malasada shop that Guzma was dragging you towards, you allowed him to take you in and sit you down at a booth while he eagerly went to order. When he sat down bearing the gift of a single spicy malasada for you both to share, you wondered vaguely if he ever shut his mouth. He seemed not to mind that the conversation was very one sided. Rather he enjoyed filling the gaps with a distinct pattern: statement question statement, pausing only when you nodded a yes or no but then continuing to prattle on when there was a lull in the conversation. Admittedly it was rather cute, he seemed so excited to have a listening ear to unload on that you didn’t mind if he repeated himself or used slang that you didn’t understand. You were just so absorbed in hearing him become increasingly excited with your company. It was no surprise that you were completely caught off guard when he asked a question and actually left it hanging in the air.

“So… What’s a pretty face like yours doin’ here all alone?”

The spice of the malasada stuck in your throat. After choking a bit and waiting for him to continue with his innumerable words you realized he meant to have an answer. There was no getting out of it. He seemed eagerly waiting for you to speak, and only encouraged your anxiety further when he queried:

“Can’t you talk?”

You had to at least try. With all his kindness and willingness to make it up to you even after he couldn’t pay, the least you owe him is a word. You try to push the words past your lips. The mouth opens, closes. Your lips are pursed to form an affirmation that yes, of course you can talk. A disparaging “click click” noise emanates from your throat as you try to get the words out, facial muscles are tightening and refusing to move as your anxiety grows. How fucking hard is it to get the words out one might wonder? For you, it’s a nightmare.

“C… Cuh… C…” you struggle with the words. WHY is it so hard to get out? ‘Course I can talk. ‘Course I can talk. It’s not this hard alone dammit! Why is it so hard in front of a person? Guzma cocks his head to the side and leans in closer, wondering why it is you’re clicking your throat at him. It’s not until you start hitting your head with the palm of your hand that he understands.

“Hey, hey! Cut it out!” he snaps, taking your hand away so that you can’t hurt yourself any more than you already are. Yet Guzma doesn’t let it go as you take out silent frustrations, a silent sob bubbles up from your throat, you’re ashamed you can’t even repay him with a kind word. At least you haven’t drawn in attention to cause a scene. Everyone is too preoccupied with their food to notice your silent outburst. They’re always preoccupied… They never see what’s happening.

“I get it now.” he says quietly once you’ve calmed down, “Don’t worry. You don’t have to say anything. I get it.”

But does he really?

[141-callsign-ghost]

I remember and i hope you do too, the story i was always too scared to tell my crew. How big bad Guzma was chewed up, spit out and stomped on too. I doubt you do, doubt you remember how you hurt me and my moms too. laid up in bed she tucks me in tight, while you’re out for the night. Brushin my bangs out of my face, she whispers soft. “It’s alright sweetheart, we just need to stay in our place.” with a kiss to my forehead she disappears off to bed, she disappears and this is the moment that i fear. Keys jingle sloppily at the front door, oh no, he’s home. Crash, the door is open, i hear you stumble in. Oh no, he’s been drinkin, oh no, what’s he thinkin? Hold my breath tight, maybe if i’m quiet he’ll pass by me tonight. No such luck, the door creeks and i have the fight back a shriek, you rip me out of bed, thump, there goes my head. Against the floor board, guess i ain’t tired no more. Moms is nowhere to be found no, she’s learned by now. No use fightin, no, she ain’t got the guts not after you grabbed your nine to ‘practice’ your puts. So it’s just me and the bruises on my skin as you drag me down the hall, guess it’s time to play ball... my only thought before the pain, even to this day still remains. “How could you? All i ever wanted was to be like you.” but that was when you were nice, before you took up your vice. Everyday the same, “Guzma what’s wrong with you!” and i wish i knew. I wish i had been good enough for you. Maybe then you wouldn’t have brought me so much pain but then again...maybe i deserve it, why else would you serve it?

[wolfsteax]

The Damage We Do

Chapter 1:

http://thelittledabbler.tumblr.com/post/155857634385/the-damage-we-do

–

Chapter 2 - Run

I was livid. I let Guzma into my house. I trusted him. And, he robbed me! I was not losing all my money like that. I jammed my feet into my shoes and nearly kicked the door open. I was pissed. I saw his big foot prints in the dirt road and angrily followed them like a hound dog. The more I walked the angrier I became until I saw something down the road. I knew that big body. It was Guzma and he had… food? This kid. Guzma had taken my money to buy us food. Sure, I basically paid for it, but he was trying to be nice. My anger slipped away as he came closer. “LAE! I GOTCHA SOME BREAKFAST!” He shouted from afar. I started laughing and grabbed my stomach.

Guzma came into my house and set down the malasadas, cocoa, fast food bacon, and fruits he bought. Well, at least he spent it on somewhat decent food. “Guzma, you realize you robbed me… to do something nice for me, right?” I laughed. He blushed and suddenly realized. “Oh shit ya right! I’m so sorry, girl- eh, Lae! I swear I didn’t spend all of it! Look! Here ya go.” Guzma handed me what was left of my cash. It was crumpled up and in a ball, but I didn’t care. “I’ll be totally honest. I was going to find you and kick the shit out of you if you had robbed me for real.” I glared at him with a grin. “Ya couldn’t take me. I’d squish you.” “With that big ass of yours?” Guzma smooshed a malasada on my nose and laughed. “Oh! You little shit!” I laughed and threw a strip of bacon at him. We had started a little food fight which got us playing like little kids. I saw something in him during this play. I saw a person with a warm heart who was longing to be seen as strong and worth time. During our play fighting and twisting and twirling I felt my pity for him change into something else. This was not okay. I had only met Guzma. And, yet… There it was again! “And yet” rattling around in my head.

While I became lost in my thoughts Guzma threw me on the couch and sat on me. “ACK! GUZMA!” I laughed loudly as his butt crushed me. “Ya? Wassup?” He teased and pat my head. “What was it ya said about my big ass?” He leaned back and sighed with a shit eating grin. I cackled under him and let myself lose the fight. I turned my head and looked up at the tall man. “How old are you Guzma?” I asked. “18. You?” “18 as well.” Guzma started to twiddle his fingers. “I’m thinkin’ I can… go to my house tonight. I’m gonna tell my dad enough’s enough! But, will you come with me?” I couldn’t believe he was getting serious while crushing me with his ass. “Why? You… You don’t even know me, Guzma.” I said with a sigh. “Then tell me who ya are.” He suggested.

I thought for a few moments. Me? Tell him who I am? I don’t talk about myself with anyone… But, then again, I had given Guzma a reason to be so interested in me. “Alright.” I said as he let me sit up. “I am Lae Hibiscus. I’m 18 and I am an eevee breeder. My main pokemon is a sylveon. He’s my best friend. I guess I just kinda.. Keep to myself. I draw as a hobby and enjoy cycling and tennis. I uh… I don’t have family really.” I looked away and ran my fingers through my black, rugged pixie cut. “Okay, okay. You don’t wanna go into detail. ‘S alright.” He pat my shoulder. “I am sorry.” I told him. “Don’t be, girl. Will you still come with me though?” Guzma asked with a sparkle in those silvery eyes. “Of course…” The rest of the day was spent talking, eating, and watching more movies. Guzma was pretty funny and actually smart. He knew how to work with pokemon and how to train them perfectly. His english was just bad. In a short time Guzma and I became good friends. We bonded through something. I didn’t know what. The more I looked at him the more I found myself attracted. And… dare I say it, I think he felt the same about me. He kept patting my back and pulling me into noogy my head. Every time he did his cheeks got pink. When night came Guzma became uneasy. “We gotta do this.” He told me. I looked deep into his eyes and nodded. “Alright… Let’s go…”

Guzma led me to his house on Route 2. It looked like such a peaceful house, but an angry and sick vibe seeped from its walls. He was so quiet and determined. My friend led me to the bushes under a window. Guzma pat my back and looked at me very seriously.

“Okay. I gotta do this by myself, so watch from the window. Aight?” Guzma said to me as I hid myself in the bushes. “Got it.” I said. My stomach was twisted so tight I felt sick. What if Guzma got brutally beaten? It’d be my fault for telling him to do this. I watched him walk away and go inside the small home. An angry, gruff looking man sat on the couch. He turned when he saw Guzma enter. Guzma’s mother, who seemed timid as a baby bird, ran to Guzma, but stopped dead in her tracks when his father yelled at her. She backed off. Guzma glared at his father. “Don’t talk to my mum like that.” I saw him spit from outside. “You little shit. You numbskull. You thought running away from your trials was strong? You’re a weak little shit. You aren’t leaving this house again until you’ve learned your lesson.” The man rose and walked closer to Guzma. I saw Guzma change. His eyes seemed to glaze over and his face lost its color. His father was the same size and looked stronger. This was a terrible idea. Why did I have to tell him to do this!? Guzma’s father leaned in extremely close to Guzma’s face. “You’re the most disappointing thing in my life.” He spat on Guzma’s face and grabbed his throat. Guzma froze. It was as if his father had programmed him to just allow this. Guzma’s hands shook as his father’s grip tightened around his throat.

“Fight back!” I thought to myself as I slammed my fist against the window. This caught his dad’s attention allowing Guzma to harshly shove him off. His father toppled over on the back of the couch and immediately had death in his eyes. “You made a big mistake, you little shit.” His father got up and ran for Guzma. The two clashed in a blur of flying fists and kicks. I thought I saw some blood go flying! I panicked as they fought, but promised Guzma I’d stay out here as to not get hurt. Guzma threw his father against a bag of golf clubs, but it wasn’t enough. I saw where the man was going. He reached back and grabbed a club. I rose from the bushes and screamed just as his father swung the club into Guzma’s stomach. The kid coughed and curled up as the metal club shot pain through his body. His father pulled back again, this time nailing him in the ribs. Guzma shrieked with pain and fell to the floor. His father then kicked him right in the nose. Blood flew from the new wound and spilled into Guzma’s mouth. “You have nothing.” His father spat on him again. Suddenly, I saw a fire in Guzma’s silver eyes. “No. I got a friend. A girl. She only known me a day and she treats me like I’m worth everything. I ain’t gonna let her watch you beat me.” Guzma rose and looked bigger than his father. “You wanna know what destruction looks like in human form?” Guzma grabbed his father by the neck and lifted him off the ground. “It’s your boy, Guzma.” He whispered very close to his father’s ear. Guzma then took his father and slammed him against the wall. He punched him in the face. Then again, and again, and again, until his father’s face was red with blood. But, Guzma wasn’t finished. He was going to leave a mark. The kid took his father’s arm, the one that he always used to beat him, and twisted it until the loud snap of a bone shook the silence.

A red and blue light caught my eye. Oh, fuck. The neighbors called the cops! They looked through the window and saw Guzma beating his father. They saw the wrong story! Guzma noticed the lights and dropped his dad’s weak body. He immediately ran for the window on the other side of the house and broke through it. I saw him sprint off into the berry farm. As soon as the cops ran off I chased after Guzma in another direction. I ran until I saw him running in front of me. “Guzma! This way!” I shouted. He looked back and U-turned. I paged my Charizard and grabbed Guzma’s arm. I yanked him on and we flew away. The cops never saw us escape.

We flew until we reached another island. I knew of an empty town here where we could hide. It was once called Po Town and an old house rested in the back. We landed there and I lugged Guzma inside. Luckily, he didn’t need to go to a hospital. But, he sure as hell needed to rest. “There should be a bed in here somewhere.” I told him as I helped lead him along. We found a large bed in a backroom upstairs. It had an old chair inside as well and some empty alcohol bottles. The bed was pretty clean, just dusty. I cleaned it off and helped Guzma sit down. “There. You did it, Guzma. You showed him who’s boss.” I told him with a smile. Guzma took one look at me and began sobbing. He never said why, but I assumed it was the cluster of emotions he was feeling. “Awh. There there, Guz.” I took a cloth and wiped the blood off his face. He suddenly yanked me into a huge hug. He squeezed me so tightly it almost hurt. But, I hugged him back just as tight. I felt him kiss my neck very lightly then nuzzle it. We stayed like this for an hour until we both leaned back and fell asleep. He was warm… so warm…

[storylocke]

Connections 4

[As Devin had been asked to return Kukui’s mask, he figured the best place to find him would be back at Malie Garden. He was surprised however that as soon as he entered, not only did he find the professor, but a small crowd had been gathering to see him square off against a couple of Team Skull members. Devin crept forward to get a better look at the man on the bridge, a member he hadn't seen before.]

Guzma:

Greetings, cowering public!

Devin:

What’s going on, Kukui?

Kukui:

[Glances down at him in surprise.] Hey, buddy, you finished already?

Devin:

[nods, then glances over at Guzma coming down from the bridge.] Who’s he?

Guzma:

[Laughing as he puffs up with pride.] Me? I’m the hated boss who beats ya down, and beats ya down, and never lets up! Big Bad Guzma is here~! And you’re in time for an exciting bout tonight. [A boastful howl to the crowd around them as sweeps an arm out to point to Kukui.] In this corner, the Pokemon Professor Kukui! And in this corner, the boss of Team Skull and the hardest guy around, Guzma!

Kukui:

[Kukui doesn’t seem scared though like the others. In fact, there’s that spark in his gaze as he appears all too eager for the challenge.] Why are you here, Guzma?

Guzma:

[Turns back to him with a mock look of surprise.] Why? I thought you’d be happy to see me after all this time. After all, I’ve been hearing how you’ve been a busy man. So here we are, Kukui. Fellow rejects who never could become captains. We’ve got all these moldy old traditions in Alola - The Kahunas, the captains… It’s about time we cut out all that silly garbage and make something new for ourselves, right? Trust me, I get that. [He crosses his arms as he starts to slink on over, still smug as he can see the fire in Kukui’s eyes. A grin as he just eggs him on.] Don’t get me wrong though, Kukui. We’ve got no need for a Pokemon League. After all, everyone already knows who the strongest trainer is on these islands.

Kukui:

Then why try to challenge me when you know you’ll lose? [His grin only brightens as Guzma’s face twists into a sneer.] It’s not like I couldn’t become captain, I chose not to. I had other dreams, see? Do you dream, Guzma?

Guzma:

[goes to say something as he places his hands back on his hips, but it’s not casually. His fists are clenched as he stares down the professor only to have Kukui turn his back on him.]

Kukui:

Of course you do. I personally wanted to find out the best moves to beat old Hala… and I found what I was looking for. The strongest moves you can use are the ones a trainer and their Pokemon can choose together. In the heat of the moment, when it really counts. You know what that’s like? [turns back to him as Guzma is still angry, but it’s more of slow burn as the Boss is actually listening patiently for him to get to the point.] That’s when I knew I had to make a Pokemon League, yeah? To give everybody the chance to be pushed to the limit with their team and find that perfect move.

Guzma:

Tch “just anyone” huh? We’re told all our lives to push ourselves, to work hard, and it’ll somehow magically make anything possible. And guess what? Even dumb kids learn real fast that no matter how hard ya try to climb, there’s always someone there to knock you down.

Kukui:

Then prove it to me. It’s been a long time since Trials, and if you’ve got a few new tricks up your sleeves, I want to see them! [clenches his fist as he’s honestly excited to see this] With the Island Challenge Champions, we only compete with the kids our age. A League would allow us to see who’s truly the best. [steps aside to reveal Devin who’s been somewhat hiding behind him as he wasn’t sure what was going on] Why not have a bout with him? He’s looking to be the strongest in his group right now, but without a stage for fair play, we’d never know who’s stronger between the three of us. Show me your moves and prove you’re not all just talk. Right, Devin?

Devin:

[He’s been fighting grunts several times now, so comparing himself to the big boss is both awesome and nerve-wracking at the same time. But Kukui’s there, so no need to worry. Slight bounce] That’s right!

Guzma:

… [Are you freakin’ kidding? What kind of insult is this? Looks to his grunts.] Do you hear this, guy? This move maniac is starting to get me all riled up!

Kukui:

[grins at him] Then if you’ve got Champion material, I want to see it!

Guzma:

Heh, I don’t need to prove myself, not to you, not to anyone! Of course, if you’re asking for a free beating, I can’t say no. [approaches Devin and looks him over. Tiny punk]

[Devin is surprised to see how the hostility between the two seemed to die down once Guzma came close enough the surrounding people couldn’t hear. Kukui too seemed happy to see him take the bait and be genuinely curious to meet the kid. Devin can only smile up at him in hopes that it was a good sign and all just a show, like with the Masked Royal.]

Guzma:

You sure don’t look like Hala’s grandson. Alola’s a small place, but you don’t have to know everyone to see you’re not from here.

Devin:

[Blinks up at him curiously as he wasn’t sure why that mattered at a time like this] Uh.. nope? [brightens up] My name’s Devin! I just moved to Alola recently.

Kukui:

Yeah~! Discoveries, new experiences, adventure, he’s loving every minute of it! He and his Gumshoos can unleash some real powerful moves.

Guzma:

[so he noticed] You’ve got a Z-ring, huh, kid? [Crosses his arms with a slight huff] Why even bother with the Island Challenge? What’s the point of it?

Devin:

It’ll make me stronger. Kukui said that if I make it through the Challenge, maybe someday I can stand up to my parents.

Kukui:

[Erm… Bad choice, terrible choice of words there, kid. He quickly glances between Guzma and Devin as he’s not even sure how the man is going to react.]

Guzma:

[????? Is honestly taken aback by that.] Oh he did, did he? And you believed him?! [There’s a loud cackle as there’s a strange look comes over his face.] No it won’t, you dumb kid! Those are just empty words coming from some optimistic fool! I’m your living proof just how worthless it really is!

Kukui:

[Hoo boy, he was afraid of this. Starts to step up as he can see the man has been set off] Guzma…!

Guzma:

[backing away to clear the space, a Poke Ball already in hand] And hey, since you practically begged me, I’ll even prove it to you! [a sharp glance as he holds up his hand causes Kukui to stop in his advance] Watch closely, Kukui. Someday, I’ll destroy you. But first, I’ll destroy everything you care about. Your little sidekick, your dreams… Wanna see what destruction looks like, kid? Here it is, in human form - it’s your boy, Guzma!

Devin:

[As Kukui reaches for one of his own, he’s taken by surprise just how quickly Devin takes the field. There’s that fire in him as he pushes passed the professor throw out a Poke Ball] BRING IT!

[As Devin makes quick work of the Guzma’s pride and joy with the help of his birds, he can see the rising confusion and anger as the boss finally started to put up a real fight. For the better, as he quickly realized that if Guzma had been taking things seriously from the start, he might not have won. Might, as he felt with his type advantage, there were only on an even level at best. If it weren’t for just how scary Guzma looked, he would have been leaping at the victory. Instead, he could only hold out his arms to welcome the Swanna back to him, and held him close as he backed up to where Kukui still stood stunned.]

Guzma:

[the reality of losing seems to hit him hard as his frustration comes out, somewhat violently shaking himself] GUZMA!!! WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?! Now’s the time for your vaunted team to let loose and destroy everything!

Devin:

[... Is he talking to himself?] … Mr. Guzma?

Guzma:

[that seemed to snap him out of it as he glares daggers down at the boy] You! It was Devin, right? I’ll remember you… As someone I’ll be happy to beat down any time! [He starts breathing harding as he’s holding himself back, eying the crowd with hatred as he can hear the soft murmurs and laughter. Sharply at Kukui with a growl] And you! You set me up. You only mentioned that pathetic Gumshoos even though you knew he had a clear advantage. No one makes a fool of Guzma!

Devin:

[Shifts a little as Duckl is slipping, the thing is practically as big as he is. Warmly, as he didn’t think his opponent would get discouraged so easily.] I think you did great! I didn’t even use all of my birds, but that Yanmega had me worried.

Guzma:

[Even more?! Oh now there’s a FIRE in his eyes. He gives a grin, but it’s not at all friendly, his voice a bit slick and low] Oh I’ll remember that. I didn’t come here to deal with you anyway! Next time we meet, we’re fighting for real! [starts to storm off]

Grunt A:

….! [start to follow] Don’t mess with the boss, yo!

Grunt B:

You don’t want the boss to get serious!

Kukui:

[As much as he didn’t want it to end that way, he’s relieved to see that the grunts have left.] Whoo, Devin. That was pretty intense. Those were some nice moves too. I can feel my soul shaking! Oh yeah, I wanted to give you something important. [gives Devin the Incinium Z] It’ll work well with your Incineroar’s Darkest Lariat attack.

Devin:

[Devin just stares at the crystal a moment before setting down the Swanna in his arms in order to take it. He hesitates a moment as the echoing laughter in his mind only serves to remind him of his little slip up earlier.] Um…Thank you. But about that… [looks down at the crystal, but quickly just puts it in his bag with the other crystals.] Oh! I had something to give you too! [pulls out the mask while he’s in there.] Moylene said you left it.

Kukui:

[Fighting so hard not to laugh as he can only assume what the boy was going to tell him. He fails, and lets out a soft snort at his friend’s name though and gently takes that back from him. Holding it between his fingers as he notes how he probably needs to redo some of the stitching] ….Molayne gave you that, yeah? I’ll take it if you don’t mind. My wife is a big fan of Masked Royal, you know. [puts it in his lab-coat pocket. Now that the excitement is over, and the group of onlookers has been clearing out, he turns his gaze back to the little shop across the bridge.]

Devin:

Yup! Speaking of, I’m sorry for interrupting your battle. You sounded really excited to have a Battle Royal with Team Skull.

Kukui:

Nah, it all worked out. Even better than I could have imagined, you practically sent them running!

Devin:

Yeah, that turned out to be a lot of fun~! But Guzma is a bit scary… Why was he looking for Hau?

Kukui:

[Tenses up as he wasn’t expecting that.] What do you mean?

Devin:

Guzma seemed really excited to fight me until he realized I wasn’t Hala’s grandson. What made him think Hau would be out here?

Kukui:

[Ah, that… He forgot Guzma had said that. Takes in a deep breath as it seemed they were returning to more serious matters.] Probably because this has been our meeting place for Ula’Ula Island. I’m glad you warned me about Team Skull back on the mountain. Guzma next to never shows his face like this, and I heard he was around only after he’d made it to our meeting spot. If I hadn’t left Mt. Hokulani when I did, Guzma might have found him before I could.

Devin:

Huh… [Molayne had said he would look into this whole tracking allegation, but if this incident were to prove it was true, it was getting a little unnerving] So where is Hau now?

Kukui:

I made sure he got on the bus and everything before I left him. He should be halfway done with Soffy’s trial by now. I’m surprised you two managed to miss each other.

Devin:

Oh, that’s because I flew back to Malie City instead of taking the bus. [smile] Good thing, since I might have missed all this. But… What does Guzma want with Hau?

Kukui:

To let his “vaunted team let loose and destroy”? Who knows.

Devin:

You know, though, don’t you? Back on Mt. Hokulani, you told me to ask you later, and it’s later now, so tell me. Why are people like Team Skull so concerned with Hau? He’s not a threat to anyone.

Kukui:

I know, and that actually worries me. Look, little buddy, I’ve noticed you two have gotten really close since you moved here. That’s great! But Hau… It’s not that I don’t trust you, it’s to protect him.

Devin:

I can protect him! [clenches his fists together as he tries to plead with him] I just took down the leader of Team Skull, I can fight anyone! [Okay, even he knows that’s not true, and his enthusiasm wanes as he tries to calm himself down.] Kukui, Hau’s my best friend. If he’s in trouble, I need know why. What happened to him? You got scared when I mentioned an accident, it’s gotta be real, right? I just want to know...

Kukui:

… … … [looks around] … [sighs] Fine. But why don’t we got sit down first?

Devin:

[Being told to sit down usually didn’t mean anything good, but he takes a moment to glance down at Duckl and recall him to his Poke Ball before following Kukui back across the bridge.]

~~~~~~~

Daaaang that is a long cutscene. Even without my added dialogue, Guzma sure does know how to make an entrance |D;;

Granted, we practically whooped him, but when 4/6 of our teammates should have a type advantage on him (and he only saw two birds and fire cat at that), I'd be more worried if we hadn't. Devin sure doesn't know how to make enemies, but its almost funny just how many he's making just by being himself XD

Part 1, 2, 3

[maxskulline]

"Can I get one fuckin' conversation at least?!"

When she runs into Guzma again, granted, it’s not anywhere close to her apartment - thank fuck for that, because some very vengeful Pokémon and her best friend are gagging to finally get their paws on him. For this, she ought to give Guzma some kinda kudos because he’s not stalking her right up to her doorstep, but he’s definitely stalking her alright. This is the fifth time in a single week she’s “accidentally” running into him, and she stopped calling it a coincidence after the second time. Every time he sees her, he tries to talk to her. Every time Guzma tries to talk to her, Max comes up with another way to dodge the inevitable. Tells herself that she ain’t ready, and she really isn’t, and perhaps Guzma remembers that Max needs a push or two when she starts avoidin’ because he’s really fucking pushing it now.

This time around, he’s waiting for Max to leave the bar after her gig. She doesn’t find him inside like she had on their second chance encounter but he’s definitely been drinkin’, the gloss in his eyes gives him away. Artificial light tints his pale strands in warm orange, reflects on the leather of his jacket, the tips of his shoes. Guzma tries his damned hardest to look casual, but he can’t fool the woman who’s learned to study him like a goddamned masters course. Soon as she’s embracing the fresh summer air after being stuck for hours with a drinking crowd, his entire posture goes rigid. Seeing him doesn’t surprise her by all means, but Max hesitates to even gaze his way a second time. Hates how his very presence manages to eclipse the rest of this world. Be it the breeze, the distant sound of the sea, the melodic chirping of crickets, it all fades out under the rapid pulse rushing through her ears. She’s afraid, Max notices, to look at him and see the very same crazy in his eyes she’s once turned her back to. 

So she doesn’t. Instead, she breaks from her stupor, shoulders the guitar and heads the other way. Home, where Rosie and the kid and her Pokémon are waiting. Home, where she’ll bury her speech in a drink and a smoke until she’s ready to tell him everything she’s already told him through her music. 

This is when he really starts pushing. Max can see his shadow catching up, hears him use her name for the first time in years and his footsteps enclosing. Some fucked up part of herself’s glad he doesn’t take her silence anymore, the other wants him to fuck off and leave her alone. “Wait!”, he calls out when Max doesn’t stop walking. She won’t stop until he takes the last steps in a stride and practically blocks her path, forcing himself into her sight, make her finally fucking look at him. He’ll hear an annoyed scoff before Max pulls out a pack of cigarettes, a habit she’s never quite shaken off. 

“What the fuck do you want from me!?” Seems like a fitting choice of first words for the guy who took her heart and threw it under the train. Blue smoke coils from her nostrils because she’s too pissed off to breathe properly, the cig burning down rapidly. 

“I wanna go h-” 

                                       “Can I get one fuckin’ conversation at least?!”

There it is. Guzma’s resort to volume when his fuse snaps, when he’s treading the tightrope of his own limits, raises a very odd sense of familiarity within her. This ain’t the crazy she’s seen of him last at all, this is the pure plague of a man who so desperately wants to say his sorrys. His demand for a conversation’s the very last thing Max expected to happen tonight, but it snaps the last mast she’s clinging to and now she’s drowning deep in all the things she feels equally desperate to tell him. 

The cig meets its demise on the floor, squashed beneath the heel of her blood red boots. “And then what, Guzma?” Saying his name feels strange. Like using the name of a dead someone you didn’t speak about for years because the memories hurt too much. To Max, Guzma died on the day he had left for Aether Paradise - the last time she saw or touched the real him, the only Guzma whose memories deserved holding onto. The Guzma she’s taking in now looks like a Deja Vue. Is she dissociating again? No, she isn’t…… her mind simply hasn’t caught up with his changes just yet. 

Max wipes her eyes with the back of her hand, blames the sting on nothing but raw pissed off-ness. 

“Then you gonna tell me how sorry you are? How much you regret what you did? Like that’s gonna change the last few years for me? All it’ll do is clear your own fucking conscience, so YOU can sleep better at night. It ain’t gonna do shit for me, because I’ll STILL see everything you did to me and my Pokémon that night. I can’t forget this shit, Guzma, I can’t….. you nearly took away everything from me. I had to build myself up from scratch.” 

She fumbles for another cigarette, clicks the lighter, takes a deep, deep pull and closes her eyes when the nicotine rush hits. She could walk away now, leave him standing with a nice heap of guilt loaded to his shoulders. Or she could hear him out, just to quench this emptiness within her, just to hear if she was right all along. Max decides that she needs to know or she won’t catch a single minute of sleep tonight, and opts for a proposal. 

“You can have a conversation under one condition. I don’t want your sorry. Whatever you have to say to me now, if you’ll make this about your own redemption you can go fuck yourself. I will walk away and never speak to you again.”