#leafpuff writes stuff

[pokespefangirl]

All at once, Red realises that love comes crashing in wave after wave, over the course of multiple years, instead of a one-time supernova like he'd always thought.

He finally thinks it's a okay to have made a home for himself in Green's heart.

---

The boy who grew up as an orphan, constantly hurling himself at wreckless situations so that he could feel something was no more.

The aspiring and achieving champion of Kanto was no more.

Instead, what was left was a grown adult still in touch with his childhood self, almost obnoxiously so.

And that was only because the boy who he used to fight and run with amongst green meadows, had stayed.

Green had stayed, after all these years.

He had judged Red for every mistaken battle he'd ever been in, with lips tightened and cat-like amber eyes piercing through Red everytime he tried to find life in messy adventures that caused him no good.

Now the light was shining on his man's face, laid deeply against the white pillows, and it was adorable how Green's eyebrows came together in a slight frown even as he was asleep.

Over the course of their decade long friendship and half a dozen years of marriage, Red would discover things to love about him on the regular.

But always when Green was asleep.

Because it was embarassing how much Red crushed on him, even after all these years. Even now, it still felt brand new.

Red thumbed over the silver band on his own finger, matching the glinting amulet around Green's neck, in some ways shining even brighter than this early morning light.

Red had to bat away the wetness in his eyes as he continued to look at him.

Heart heaving at the fondness he was experiencing. So embarassing, that he still felt like a teenager, even now.

Green could never know, should never know. It made Red too vulnerable, opened him up too much.

After all, Red was used to protecting himself, even though he always claimed to everyone in Pallet that he was all about protecting others.

The truth was a huge part of it included his own protection, too, for the boy was to used to not having anything, anyone to call home, used to looking into the windows of warm homes containing happy families during those relentlessly cold nights.

Easy back then to laugh away the pain, to dream big dreams to escape from his lonely reality, to wander from place to place, helping everyone at the cost of burns and scratches and bleeding wounds.

Only Green had judged him for it.

And only Green had bothered to keep him safe, to care for him in a way that was so deeply sweet, yet so, so foreign. Like Red was only a human being, and not the people's Hero like he had been set up to be.

Without even thinking of it, his hand went to trace over the sharp, angular face that he could never be tired of drawing with his eyes and fingers-

Touch like a delicate butterfly, and if Green felt it he thankfully didn't show it- eyes fluttering in an almost indecipherable manner alongside his slowly rising chest.

With another touch of Red's Green would now turn to face him, seeking his warmth even now, even while he was asleep.

Red has travelled from place to place, region to region for so long, that for a long time he was scared of settling down and finding any one place to call home.

But now, he was little by little realising that the home had been in front of him all along.

And if that required trudging through the mountainous path with Green, containing all their memories forever-

Red would happily oblige.

Because it was then that he slowly realised... love was a feeling that came crashing in wave after wave, over the course of multiple years, instead of a one-time supernova like he'd always thought.

And if that meant Red had already made this permanent home for himself in his husband's heart.

Well, he was more than okay with it.

[pokespefangirl]

"You're leaving again." Yellow repeats.

The words feel foreign to her, even though she's the one saying them. There's a faint ringing in her ears.

Red's lips quirk up ever so slightly into a gentle smile, and his hand touches her cheek, like he's doing her a favour.

His hand feels incredibly cold.

Red's voice gets even lower, if possible, "Well, you know," he says, "I don't really see it working out if I stay here."

No. She doesn't know. Willfully stupid and ignorant or not, she can't help but freeze because this all just feels plain wrong. Her legs fall back as if without her approval.

"Yellow…" Red's still smiling sadly at her, and his hand reaches out to her despite their growing distance as if that could somehow soften the blow.

Finally, Yellow's back hits the stone wall behind her. The impact feels like a welcome back to harsh, cold reality. A bead of water gently falls from lining one of the leaves above and it reminds her of the cold after-rain winds racking through her entire body.

"Here," Red says, voice intonating kindly downwards as he puts his jacket around her, pats it around her to warm her up.

It doesn't work.

"I'm sure you expected this," he says, nodding as if to confirm his own thoughts, "me leaving again…"

No, she'd just been the idiot who'd expected it all to work out. Hoping, believing in a future that had Red in it, in Kanto, with her.

She just never guessed she'd been the only one.

But it's clear now that Red always has one foot out the door, still expecting her to clutch on to him anyway when he knows very well nothing could change his mind, believe in a future that had hope for them. All of them.

"I just…" The previous ringing in her ears gets louder, almost deafening, and she finds her voice rising slightly without her consent, "I just think that you could possibly explore other options."

"There are no other options." Red answers, mouth going firm without missing a single beat. He still watches her as if waiting for her reaction, eyes getting all wide and loving.

"Oh…" Her hands tremble, beads of perspiration wet on her forehead. She knows she shouldn't feel angry, that it isn't justified.

It was just the sheerly quick way he'd disregarded any other options they could've had.

So what had been the point of it all? Six years of waiting…

She should've just moved on.

"I'm gonna miss you… Yells." He says, nickname coming out easily as his hands reach out to hold both of hers, their palms soft and warm.

This time, Yellow only allows them to touch momentarily, before shaking the man off as gently as she could.

Because nothing she did mattered anyway, he clearly couldn't be convinced to stay.

Every single thing she had done to avoid what happened six years ago from repeating, repeating again.

Because she is the only one still fighting for it.

"Yellow…" He says, questioning before he tries again to hold her, but she increases the distance further before he can.

None of it was worth it anyway.

He'd never take her seriously.

"It's okay." She whispers. Lies. Plain lies.

But as always, his eyes grow wide and sparkle with hurt because he will never see right through her like she does him.

[pokespefangirl]

"Holding You" - corruptedshipping - vcf

It's too intense. Infinitely many fireworks flowering in the sky and igniting in streams of colours, over the sprawling black ocean waters.

Explosions disguise the rattling of gunfire, the squirming of officers against criminals of all backgrounds.

And all Whitley does is run. Run far away from the action, the danger, the throes of it all.

As the click of her heels echo against the deck, she doesn't even know what she's running towards, constantly looking behind her for any shadowy figures who might grab her face from behind, showing her all the pain in the world.

She just wants to avoid any pain at all costs.

But then her feet stop, her heels almost toppling from losing the balance before she stands upright, heels hurting.

Whitley looks before her.

And it's like her body had told her before she even told herself. The way it had trembled, and her ribs ached, weak to her knees at even the suggestion of his appearance.

She will recognize this elegantly dressed man anywhere, even now, when he's looking around frantically in the dark night, eyes all sharp around the edges.

And all at once the tension leaves her body.

He's the likely source of all her pain. The cause of all this chaotic masquerade.

And yet, the moment she hears voices over her shoulders, her body as if driven by muscle memory moves over to him-

Until her arms wrap around his neck, bringing his body slightly down until they're so close together, they might as well be wine and water. All messed up and mixed up, just the way she likes it.

And the way Blake's hands hesitate around the back of her waist for even a second, tells her everything she needs to know.

She doesn't even need to look up to know that he's directing her with the same, slight frown accompanied with the same, sad stare, and all she feels is her eyes fluttering closed as he lays his head against her shoulder, his chin quietly welcome on her skin.

She feels his gentle exhales and inhales in her own body, and she doesn't have to cuddle him harder to let him know she's there, and she's safe-

But she does so anyway.

Then he holds onto her even tighter, sighs even quieter against her skin, until all the surrounding noises are drowned out by nothing except for their quiet, relieved breathing.

This close together, it feels almost like they had impossibly and unfathomably become one.

And if Blake had held onto hugs with Whitley for a second too long before, he completely refuses to let go of her now.

[pokespefangirl]

corruptedshipping - valentine's special

-

Footsteps. The team plasma grunts were clearly still after them, waiting in the shadows for as soon as they made their appearance.

Whitley winced as she heard the voices and footsteps coming towards them, with the sound of them unlocking their firearms.

Oh, this was bad.

"They're able to shoot at everything here since everyone else is at the gallery," Blake realised, "quick. Go to the window, we'll escape from there."

You're kidding, right?

"The window?"

Whitley gulped, shocked as she looked at the thorned rose gardens below.

This was going to be a bad fall.

"What are you waiting for?" Blake started off, and Whitley was sure he was going to scold her again like usual, that is, until she saw his eyes catching onto her hands.

Right. She'd almost forgot.

They were shaking.

A change seemed to undergo on the Inspector's face, as if he'd come to a realisation on his own.

"Inspector?"

The footsteps were ever closer, with shouts of, "Look over there!"

Before she'd even realised, Blake pulled her closer to him, keeping her out of harm's way naturally like he was made for it.

A few men came running in and were already pointing their gums.

"Are you at least thinking of quitting now, Detective?" Blake's voice was soft unlike what she'd expected him to act in their situation.

Her heart was panicking. Quit? Or die, being scared?

But Blake already seemed to have made a decision.

Whitley didn't register much, except for a tug, and before she knew it her feet failed and she went slipping straight through the window-

Was this her end? Really, the only way she was going to die?

Before she could even do something with her life?

But someone was holding her- and Whitley realised she did not need to prepare herself for being hurt-

After all, she'd just found out she had been carried by the Inspector in his arms.

He landed on the ground easily, even finding enough time to scold her, "This is embarrassing even for you, Detective."

Whitley didn't want to hear it, though, the fear from the earlier challenge was still on her mind- and she found herself wrapping her arms around the police officer's neck, instinctually-

Only to realise too late that their faces were way too close, and so were their lips.

That is, until, a sound interrupted them and he seemed to realise their situation, immediately dropping her to the ground as if she were a sack of potatoes.

"Ouch, Inspector!" Whitley was surprised at the sudden change in his demeanour, what could have inspired it?

"Get up from the ground already," he was acting once again like she was a nuisance to him, or something, and Whitley pretended to ignore the cut on his cheek that was signifying he'd protected her from the rose thorns instinctively, "we can't just hide here."

"R-right-" Before she could continue though Blake already ran out of patience and dragged her to the nearest rose bush, "Inspector!" She admonished, but he shut her right down with a look.

"A-are you going to shoot those people?" She wondered, afraid as he was reloading his gun.

"What else do you expect me to do, play tennis with these people?" Blake answered, cocking the gun. "N-no, I mean..."

"There, sir! I'm seeing some shadows over there!"

"Follow them!"

The hurried footsteps raised her heartbeat, and the sound of firearms releasing their safety lock even more so.

She couldn't let this happen.

All her life, in Team Plasma, the cult, she'd experienced casualties.

Not anymore... Whitley grabbed the closest thing she could.

"Whitley! What are you doing?"

"I'm sorry..."

Shots sounded. But they weren't guns. The sound of fireworks bristling over them in the night sky thanks to the imminent celebrations due to the mad scientist, but Blake's brown eyes were focused on the detective's gun beside his head that was still in its safety lock.

Whitley's eyes were oddly closed, her cheeks blushing as if she wasn't just kissing her own hand that she'd had clamped over Blake's face like a silly little virgin.

"You're kidding me..." The Inspector groaned.

"What was that? Sir!"

"I think I heard someone moan!"

Whitley squealed, as the Inspector's hand she'd thought she was holding down turned her around easily like she was a bag of potatoes.

"If you're going to pretend to be kissing," Blake answered her, bringing her cheek closer with the hand that hadn't been holding her down, "at least do it right."

Whitley struggled, but stilled as the Inspector was obviously kissing her more believably.

Way too believable and real.

fic linkk <3 : https://archiveofourown.org/works/50076088/chapters/130220488

Inspired by this wonderful fic: Undercover in Love by @pokedex-holder-pink

[pokespefangirl]

It is then that she sees the old photo book, and she almost smiles, because she hadn't taken Lack to be the type of person to store old memories, being so careful with them even though he was technically running in the present almost everyday.

Little by little, she turns the pictures over, it was clear that he organized and stored them with love and adequate concentration, furthermore every picture is dated, with a neat lettering she easily registers as his.

Their old school photos... the children, they used to be her friends, now they are grownups, some of them still friends, and she notes with a smile their photos in graduation cap and gowns, faces as joyful as if nothing and no one in life would ever stop them.

And then... she spots her own picture. She is glowing, but then again, she's young.

She turns the picture over, and on it, scrawled with neat handwriting, are shown the words, with ink dried old like for the graduation dates from twelve years ago:

Future wife.

She wants to cry.

[pokespefangirl]

Blake was aware how much of a deranged psychotic person you'd have to be to even end up at a store like this- a "build a bear" store that mainly catered to adults. Deranged.

"Mom, wah, that teddy bear looks so creepy, I want it!" A child rushed past him with her mother while pointing to a particular toy, thereby catching his attention.

Admittedly, that left a smile on Blake's face. Leave it to kids to be the weirdest little shits. He took a hold of the teddy bear and investigated it, noting its imperfections. The eyes, which were dark and beady with deep red ringlets, stared back at him creepily. The little threaded smile was oddly large, and combined with the empty eyes this toy was basically the stuff of nightmares.

Except it reminded him of himself.

In spite of himself, the pictures appeared in his mind before he could stave off his thoughts. Whitley had looked at him, but she had looked at him like she was creepy and psychopathic and demented- and it was furthermore odd that she had turned something he used to be proud of into something he was now embarrassed of- as if his work and ambitions now came second to her feelings.

But she didn't seem to get it, didn't seem to understand, even- how he was feeling.

Before he knew it, Blake found himself walking towards the shop counter, teddy bear in his hand held with a vice grip.

"Make your girlfriend mad or something?" The shopkeeper smirked at him as if they were both privy to a secret club Blake wasn't aware of. Maybe, he did have something in common with a random shopkeeper after all. "Don't worry, she'll definitely forgive you after this." The shopkeeper peered over the cash register, "Thirty dollars." Then, his smile seemed to disappear seeing the teddy bear Blake was holding on to.

"Erm, sir, are you sure you want that one? We have a lot of other ones in the store-"

"I brought that one because I liked it." Blake answered in such a way that made the shopkeeper immediately flinch. "R-right, sure, sir." The inspector's eye roll was not missed.

As the man was ringing out the product, Blake found his attention straying to the many photos decorating the hallways. Photos of families, couples...

A girlfriend, the shop keeper had assumed... but he wasn't even sure what to call her. Someone that had adamantly told him she hated every fibre of his being, but with tears in her eyes.

Even if she was his- well, she didn't seem keen on admitting it.

The receipt came out alongside the bag Blake was told to keep, and the more he looked at the hearts decorating the bag the more he felt like he was reaching out with more and more crazy things to get her attention-

But somehow, why did it feel right?

Just when he was about to feel relief however the shopkeeper spoke up some last, horrifying words-

"Oh, by the way- we offer recording messages you know! You can record one for your girlfriend."

-fic link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/50076088

[pokespefangirl]

"... I'd probably kill them, before even throwing them in jail." Hugh ended quietly, "Animals like that don't deserve a second chance."

Whitley was very confused right now. Where was all of this coming from?

"Who?" Whitley questioned, wondering what could have inspired such hatred in the man that it didn't take him more than a minute to reveal in front of a stranger, "Who are you calling animals?"

"Team Plasma, obviously." Hugh growled, "Definition of the bane of my existence."

At that, Blake looked happily at Whitley, probably for the first time in his life. "I think you two will get along nicely together."

Counting for the fact that her heart had been growing weaker with each passing day of being supervised by this psychopath, Whitley was surprised that this latest remark from Blake didn't induce a complete heart attack in her.

[pokespefangirl]

Fic List

Archive of Our Own account: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Leafpuff/works

Fanfiction.net account: https://m.fanfiction.net/u/8214755/

Ko-fi account: https://ko-fi.com/leafpuff

Most Recent works

Fandom(s): Pokemon/Pokespe adventures manga, based on Pokemon gameverse

1) Vigilante Case Files 2042 

Ongoing

Long fic

Ships: SpecialShipping, Corrupted/VisorShipping, Preciousmetal/HunterShipping

Summary:

In the dystopian futuristic crime-filled city called "KANTO"- Red, Yellow, Green (Oak), Blue (Leaf) and their acquaintances from other regions join forces to rid the city of corruption and crime.

Chasing the true evil forces that poisons the city from within, and lead by a man by the name of Giovanni, will they be able to find it and stop it in time? (Gen I arc)

-

As a newly recruited officer who is under extreme pressure to perform in a crime filled city separated by the controversially labelled "crime zones", Rookie Officer Rosa Mei Whitley must prove to the others that she belongs in the highly-functioning UPD investigation team. (Gen V arc)

-

Rowdy Inspector Gold (Ethan) must work with the Team Rocket Leader's banished son, Silver, a notoriously suspect thief, to find the dangerous serial killer known as "Persian", Giovanni's treasured heir. (Gen II arc)

2) Feel Me 

Complete

Short fic

Ships: CorruptedShipping

Summary:

It was three years. Three years since they broke up. Three years of fucking the wrong people and sleeping in the wrong places. Wandering on earth from one end to the other.

Whitley was still in the middle of her tradition of getting black-out drunk after work, only this time- this time, while scrolling through their text history, Whitley accidentally pressed 'send'.

It was a picture of both of them. From when they were young.

Drunk as she was, Whitley decided to roll with it.

3) Loving Your Charade

Ongoing

Medium fic

Ships: Corruptedshipping, Agencyshipping

Summary:

Psychopathic movie Star Nate Kyohei 'Blake', workaholic BW agency Producer Hilda Touko 'White', exhausted employee and aspiring Champion Hilbert 'Black' and nervous newcomer and anxious rising star Rosa 'Whitley' - join them all on their star studded journey while shenanigans ensue! (As well as PR stunt scandals and disasters...)

Lastly, I write cute stuff on here under the tag #leafpuff writes stuff

[pokespefangirl]

Pokéstar studios au update? (No pressure) ;-;

Dear anon, thank you so much for this idea! It took longer than I thought but I've finally finished this fic (And just in time for Whitley's BIRTHDAY !!) :DD thank you so much for your encouragement, input and interest throughout <3

Summary: Psychopathic movie Star Blake, workaholic BW agency Producer White, exhausted employee and aspiring Champion Black and nervous newcomer and anxious rising star Whitley - join them all on their star studded journey while shenanigans ensue! (As well as PR stunt scandals and disasters...)

[pokespefangirl]

Lack-Two was the type of person whose silences meant more than words ever could.

Even when the memory of tears pouring down Whi-Two's cheeks flashed through him every now and then.

He was passive, and silent.

---

Twelve years had passed by like nothing.

In that short period of time, Lack-Two had risen through the ranks exactly as he had planned.

Of course, many women approached him with expectant faces, even then, but he didn't allow himself to be distracted.

After all, he already had a feeling how it would end.

They would expect more from him than he'd ever be able to give: eventually, they would cry, cry their hearts out, beg and plead...

But Lack-Two wouldn't argue. He's been told he has a really sad stare when he looks at them. Sad and quiet.

Because at the end of the day, both of them know, Lack-Two always gets exactly what he wants.

And eventually, he finds someone who gives him exactly what he needs.

Freedom.

He realizes that freedom is basically a drug he can't live without. It lets him maintain his lifestyle.

He thinks, even if he doesn't have romantic love, he's happy to have lived this life as he has, doing right by people. The more he advances, the more people he saves, and the more he feels human.

He's even somewhat proud of the fact that he accomplishes everything he's ever wanted by the method of least resistance, it's as if people eventually give up and let him have his way: some happily, some with resentment.

Eventually, the years will pass by just like this. His life would be going so fast that he would not even miss Whi-Two, not that much, not really.

He would not think too hard about the fact that loneliness filled the deepest parts of him, crawling into chambers that he would never allow himself much access to.

Because that would mean that he was wrong.

And he's never been wrong, right?

He will brush his feelings off when he hears of Whi-Two getting married. Maybe he will even smile fondly that the girl who claimed she'll never move on has finally moved on from him.

He will be incredibly happy about that. He will ignore the heaviness. He will ignore the late nights spent awake staring at the ceiling. He will ignore the feeling wrapping around his chest, almost like coils.

He will think about whether Whi-Two still misses him.

And eventually, twelve more years later, he will end up in a balcony drinking champagne on a peaceful night of their school reunion, the stars will sparkle in the sky like studded gemstones, and he will admire them.

He will admire the world, admire how far he's come without ever needing to be dependant on anyone, to have the full freedom for doing everything he's ever needed to do... and he will be completely happy.

Because long ago, when Whi-Two had cried in front of him, almost crouched to her knees in pain, it had broken him: but he had controlled himself. He had adjusted his feelings, compartmentalized and pushed them to the back of his mind, and with the most gentle of voices he had explained to her that she would move on. That she was just the kind of person who would be able to find someone else, to love someone else, to create a family with them and one day be completely, and utterly happy.

And Whi-Two's face had broken back then.

But now, everything was okay. Everything was alright, judging by how her laughter tinkled from inside the ballroom, her man by her arm, proudly showing their ex-classmates and friends the photos of their children.

And for even a second, the smallest one, he would mistakenly imagine himself in the position of her man, imagine him there, talking happily to their friends and mimicking their children's silly words.

And just in that moment, he would miss her incredibly.

Even though she wouldn't miss him.

He would imagine himself, having been in that position all those years ago, rethink his leaving twice, thrice, when Whi-Two begged him to come back, claiming that she could not live without him, that she was growing old, waiting-

The smallest part of him would wish he had given his life, to someone like that, dedicated his life, to someone like that, and have her dedicate herself to him.

He would wish that he hadn't been so scared, of being derailed, he would wish he hadn't let his intuitions win over.

He would wish he even had the right to miss her.

Even had the right to cry about her though he couldn't, despite the fact that there was an odd ache in the back of his head, a seering pain, followed by tenderness of his eyes.

But he wouldn't allow himself to cry.

Because this was everything he'd wished had happened. He had lived a perfect life, without taking any emotional risks, he was perfection itself.

But that would no longer be enough for him, not today.

---

[pokespefangirl]

we are starting the Hugh protective arc with this one ahh

https://archiveofourown.org/works/50076088/chapters/164747977

[pokespefangirl]

The Phone Call (Corruptedshipping)

Whi-Two gets a phone call from an unknown number on the day of her school reunion. She's pretty sure she knows who this is.

---

Warm sunshine leaked through the floor to ceiling windows of the school hallway as Whi-Two strolled along it, heavy heart steadily getting lighter from relief as she regained her energy from having been a part of the crowd.

Some part of Whi-Two knew she could never be a part of the crowd, no matter how much she tried.

Some part of her didn't want to try, anymore.

She fumbled with a stray celebratory tassel caught up in her dress sleeve, and threw it away, the confetti and loud music from before now came back to her, but the excitement only served to give a weird twist in her stomach.

Something about this school reunion felt so deeply, deeply wrong.

Some part of her didn't want to admit it.

She always waited for something to go wrong, always a question in her head for why things had happened the way they had- but it was funny, everytime her heart leaped at the thought she had to reassure herself it was a long, long time ago, when she had attended this school.

She was so far from the danger, and yet, the slightest memory of it had something rushing in her veins, the sound of even a footstep or shuffle behind her made her ecstatic, but she turned around only to figure out it was some stray school worker who'd went in an elevator.

Some part of her still wanted to prove to herself that this was right. Her living a normal life, no longer associated with that criminal cult.

But she knew it wasn't. She knew she'd never be normal again. Her very bones felt heavy like lead, and despite her ex-classmates calling her so pretty she never felt very pretty when the sunlight struck her pale skin, making her feel as if she were a ghost before she finally caught a reflection of herself in the glass board stuck outside one of the classrooms, filled with paper achievements and photos.

Her eyes looked back at her dully, roaming over the glass as she observed her pretty off-white dress, and then her hair, and then as a whole, herself.

Some part of her knew there was definitely something missing in her appearance but she couldn't quite point a finger to it.

She was longing for the unknown, but she couldn't quite finish her thought before the phone rang-

She opened up her phone and stared at the unknown number, thumb shaking slightly before she swiped and pushed it against her cheek before taking a deep breath-

And as usual, there was silence. No answer.

Her eyes blinked in preparation of tears, but she didn't want to let them cry.

So the tears never happened. Only...

She memorised every little static sound from the other end as if it would give her an answer to something, as if it would explain everything.

But as usual, it didn't.

The anticipation was slowly rising within her body like a cloud, but before she could let herself pant she let out a noise that unfortunately barely sounded like a whimper, so she had to squash it-

"I know it's you." She spoke, and her mouth tightened as if to hold her back from speaking the words which were causing so much pain, both in her cheeks and in somewhere very very deep, within her, but she still continued. "You know you keep calling every few years, and I always know it's you. Unless you were doubting it or something."

She hoped for an acknowledgement from the other end, she never got it. So, she pulled the phone away from herself and rested her back against the classroom wall as if it could help her, and her knees buckled from the strain of it- though barely, she managed to stand up-

And regaining her balance, she heared the same familiar breath. It almost made her voice catch in her throat-

But it didn't- "You have to know I'm doing better now. Maybe that's why you were calling. I don't know." She wanted to cuss him out even though she barely knew the adequate swear words to describe his disturbing nature, but she didn't. Because she knew, even past the snake-like hatred swirling around in her stomach, that some part of him still cared for her.

That was why he called her.

Just not enough to... she didn't know how to finish that, so she tried letting out a final few words amidst the deafening silence from the phone, but she struggled-

Eventually, a noise of frustration carried out of her mouth without her knowing as she with trembling hands swiped left on the call.

"I'll move on," she whispered as though the presence on the other hand could still hear, though to be truthful she'd cut off the call a long time ago.

She just didn't know why, but she needed to pretend that the presence on the other end can still hear her.

Eventually, she'd get past this, eventually the lie would become a part of her.

And all this would be over then, she was sure.

[pokespefangirl]

corruptedshipping - vcf excerpts - "failed fealty"

"Because if there was any more aggression involved Blake knew all too well that he'd deserved it.

Half of him even wished for it."

-

It was almost sunset by the time fully uniformed officers equipped with ballistic shields and protective gear surrounded the castle area.

By this time Blake was already filled with a keen sense of satisfaction that his task force had achieved what these critical response command officers were aiming for.

Now they had nothing to do except wait for the ex-Team Plasma grunt's arrival.

The moment Whitley walked out of those giant timber doors, Blake would know once and for sure that she had proven her loyalty to the UPD's ideals.

The clang of the metal locks against the wooden doors alerted him to its opening, followed by the younger Detective's face, starkly pale against the orange light of the evening.

The self-satisfied smile that lifted up the corner of Blake's lips was foreign, even to him.

She had finally proven herself to him, proven her loyalty to the UPD, which constituted everything that he stood up for.

Her fast panting as she ran towards him said enough, that she was finally suitable enough to be his mentee after all-

Only for the quiet whistle of the wind to be intercepted by the loud slap to his face.

Blake turned her around and put her hands behind her back before he even knew it, before she even knew it, he could tell- judging by the way her eyebrows lifted up ever so slightly over the rising storms in her grey-blue eyes.

Wait- why was she crying?

His eyes roved over her shaky figure, gasping so heavily that she could barely breathe, face contorted like she was almost in pain-

His hand that automatically reached out to her to comfort was slapped away immediately- and he retracted back a few steps, unsure of what was going on-

Why was she acting like this? He'd thought he was helping her, putting her on the right path-

It was then that he realised there were blood splatters on the inside of her hands- so much so as if she was previously holding onto dead bodies, blood droplets trickling down to the ground unlike the pools filled with tears in her eyes she was refusing to let go of.

A heavy pain weighed in his gut at the thought that there could be no other explanation. His chest tightened on itself almost in a vice grip as he searched her with his eyes for an explanation of what was going on...

There was a quiet moment of pain as they looked at each other and he finally thought she was about to open her mouth-

Only for her to launch at him, fingers warming for sure against his chest in such a way as if to wrap herself around him like he was the last thing that existed in that desert of a place.

Except it was followed by a cry that was barely even an animal's as she laid her arms on him- managing to somewhat put a few scratches on his chest as he pushed her away.

But he was only stopped by her aiming another slap at him- a slap interrupted by her own cry as she covered her mouth, eyes widening in shock as she was forced to deal with the remnants of everything.

Blake felt nothing, except for the shock numbing his veins like ice as he clutched at his nose bridge in pain-

In all this time of taunting and messing with or even, or even failing her when she'd needed him most, Whitley had never once raised her hand at him.

Until now. 

Blake was once again reminded that they were surrounded by police officers as she was pulled apart from him, the shock in her widened pupils quickly fading to blankness like she had been completely broken.

He could only find respite from the momentary confusion clouding his mind when Looker's surprisingly calm voice said something about the explosions in the castle... 

Wait- what?

"There were some kind of drones, they might have killed everyone in the castle- everyone besides Miss Whitley," Looker continued, expression tight in complete contrast to the evenness of his voice and glittering eyes. But it was becoming all too clear to Blake now.

In the worst way possible.

He'd thought everything was under control, perfectly so, and now-

He was learning that he could never be sure.

No wonder... but he could still take control of it, and he found Whitley once again trying to search for something in her eyes, anything-

"We can help you if you just tell us what happened." He found himself saying, but he wasn't being himself, wasn't in the present moment, voice fading away like he had become someone else-

But Whitley just looked at him with the same stony expression cast upon her eyes. Then she opened her mouth, and a shiver ran through his spine at the thought of what she was about to say-

"Nothing that you didn't want to happen," she said only calmly, though. Then she looked eerily at the ground as if there was something incredibly curious about it. Fear was little by little filling his veins at the idea that she was losing herself, and all because of issues caused by him- 

Police officers around were still staring at her trying to get her to speak, but she said nothing.

Blake knew all too well what that could mean. The thought closed up his very voice. 

"I didn't betray you..." His vision was shaky, but how could that be? He was sure he was still standing on plain ground... "If that's what you were thinking. These were drones, not mines- there were none to begin with- I was just testing you-" at the last words a glimmer appeared in Whitley's eyes that he could only hope was understanding-

Testing? She mouthed, but no words came out. Then, she released a deep breath, eyes fully open as if she was going to let out the floodgates of tears collecting in her eyes-

But she didn't do that. Instead, she simply moved the arm of the officer holding her and stepped away. The officer shouldn't have held her to begin with, and Blake wanted to rip anyone apart piece by piece for even trying-

Because if there was any more aggression involved Blake knew all too well that he'd deserve it.

Half of him even wished for it.

Because he was sure by now that there was no way left for him to reach her. And even his usually apathetic mind couldn't help but worry, aiming to think of something... to think. Of someone that could help her speak out so that this damage would not last on her mind permanently-

Blake wouldn't be able to live with himself if it did.

Even the idea that Whitley was continuing to think that he'd... betrayed her, of all people-

"I think you should give her some space now, Blake." Looker advised, touching his arm and pulling his attention away before he could do anything else.

[pokespefangirl]

corruptedshipping excerpt - VGF - "moral inaction"

---

"Her eyes could reflect the very ocean if she wanted them to. He would hate to see how they looked reflecting the consequences of his own actions back to him-"

---

Blake was in position, ground scraping and hard against his body as he strived to take a careful aim with the end of the semi automatic jutting against his shoulder.

Anywhere else, any other time, he was going with his instincts- but not on the battlefield. Not with targets so far away under cover of the whirling sand in the air causing more and more vision blindness-

He held his breath, back stiffening up- pulling the trigger-

Another one down. There, there, and there.

The deafening rat-tat-tat of shots fired interspersed only by the final sound barrier breaking crack of bullets meeting the air.

He was used to it.

And yet his usually crystal clear mind kept bringing up the fact that Whitley wouldn't approve of it.

Even though he had been doing this for the good of the republic of UNOVA, for her-

The bullet wheezing past his shoulder made him turn around, just in time for the almost momentary bell-like clang of explosions in the air to once again fill his head-

Damn her, why was she distracting him like this?

This was simply too new for him. The sweat running down his body combined with the scorching heat of the desert made him realise his clothes had been sticking to it, but no-

It was- something else?

Morosely, Blake felt over the tacky skin of his leg to discover the blood on his hands.

For how long? Had he been like this, only to realise it now-

Things like these were simply not supposed to happen to him. He took care of his body, ensured a lot of effort and time and money was spent into his physical and mental abilities, training to ensure this would never happen, and for years, he'd developed a success he thought only he could replicate-

Until now.

Until Whitley.

She took over his mind and dominated the desert-like absence and flowed into it like a fresh spring, covering everything he once thought he knew about himself.

And he had absolutely no idea how to feel about it.

He didn't need to- his only duty was to continue doing this job.

He reloaded the bullets. And fired. That was all, the targets like stick-figures in the distance fell down one by one.

But there was a maddening tension crawling up his neck.

Before, shooting like thirty people at a time had just been akin to checking off boxes in a notebook-

And now, there was something heating up his forehead, his hands shook-

The way that those deep light-coloured eyes would be looking at him, the frown with which she'd judge him-

Her eyes could reflect the very ocean if she wanted them to. He would hate to see how they looked reflecting the consequences of his own actions back to him-

A part of him used to be excited. In a strange way, proving to the person who was his father that these targets were indeed the brain-dead manipulated zombies his father claimed them to be, how enjoyable and nonchalant it was to shoot down these people for the good of Unovan society-

There was no use thinking about it- this was just a momentary infraction, caused by that woman- dealing with her naive overly idealistic mindset-

He'd get over it.

He'd have to.

No matter how those eyes looked at him, his hand clenched gripping the weapon and his thumb pressed the trigger.

And yet another shot was fired.

[pokespefangirl]

vcf - feelingshipping - "think about it"

It's like Yellow can still feel Green's presence around her, something she previously thought impossible...

When a person is literally not there, and yet all around you, at the same time.

Their last mission together really had that much of an effect on her. Their time at the enclosure, the rising warmth of the fire and his skin getting hotter against hers, as she treated him with medicine with half a mind subdued at the quietness of it all, his overwhelming gaze and his warm breath across her neck as he leaned towards her as well-

"Amarillo?"

Yellow nearly drops her plates near the sink in answer, and her mom appears around the doorway, neck craned ever so slightly as she looks around the kitchen, floors still wet and foaming, mop somehow lying idly against the closet-

"All going well?" Her mom asks.

Yellow's face burns the longer she remembers she was supposed to be doing the very simple task of cleaning the kitchen- but even that was being slowed and interrupted.

And all thanks to one green and amber-eyed person.

"Sure!" She answers but her voice comes out barely from her throat and raspy.

"Alright..." her mom says with a raised eyebrow like she's still thinking.

Yellow feels at the point of begging to god that this won't happen again-

But given what she's experienced with Green, she's sure now that it's an inevitability.

[pokespefangirl]

vigilante case files

finally updated with the Gold/Silver Preciousmetal shipping chapter :D I'm so happy i get to read these characters and write fics about them!

Special thanks and dedication to moots @starthornisscratching and @savebatsfromscratch for leaving such amazing comments and giving so much love to this fic! (Check out their art + animations if you haven't already they're absolutely amazing, we're blessed to have such artists in the fandom)