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catt-marp · 2 months

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Pokemon Western Lesbians - Mienshao/Weavile

Below is an intro story for a few of my OCs, set in a Western setting in a town of Fighting types, of two girlfailures that I love very much.

Her duty was to protect.

Nabi the Mienshao trained for years under a harsh but firm master, an Urshifu by the name of Shui. He was gone, spending the rest of his days in solitude after leaving the town in her hands. He taught her everything she needed to know about fighting and how to use those skills to protect. She had mastered both her own instinctive martial arts and her master’s, a style known as wushu.

She was good. The townsfolk felt safe with Nabi in charge. They looked up to her, cherished her, and gave her the name “Custodian.” She was quite fond of the term and preferred it over the stuffy “Sheriff” title she held. Cleaning up messes was a specialty of hers, after all.

She was a bulwark; a barrier any Pokémon must pass if they wanted to cause trouble in their small town.

Unfortunately for all of them, something had already broken through.

And, Arceus dammit, she was such a pain in the ass sometimes.

“Oi! Ya done trying to stare holes into that stack of papers yet? Cause I gotta tell ya, it ain’t doing shit.”

Nabi took a slow breath before she spared a glance up from her pile of paperwork to level a blank look at the offending voice.

A wide, shit-eating grin leered at her, a Weavile standing much closer to her own face than she expected.

Nabi stumbled back, falling to the floor while her chair toppled over. The meticulously organized papers scattered everywhere around her in the surprise attack.

“Reshiram’s Blazing Flame, Jessie! What were you thinking?” she asked as she looked past the snickering Weavile towards the door. No one appeared to be peering through into her office. She let out a breath in relief before turning to glare at the offending Pokémon.

Jessie continued to snicker and in answer stuck her tongue out at the Mienshao.

Nabi’s deadpan stare was her own response. “Classy, Jessie. Real mature for a grown Pokémon to be acting this way while the Sheriff is trying to do her job,” she said, standing up off the ground and turning to pick up the loose scattered papers surrounding her.

A shard of ice struck the floor near her a moment later, startling Nabi. The Mienshao eyed the shard, a single paper stuck underneath it; it was a blank form, nothing important. It never was.

“Ya gotta be that stuck up all the time, Nabs? I’m just having fun here,” she pouted, throwing her claws behind her head and leaning against the wall behind Nabi’s desk.

“No, I just need to have an ounce of professionalism while I’m working, Jess,” she snapped, but not with any real venom behind it. She knew Jessie was bored and felt genuinely apologetic for taking this long to finish things up. “I’m sorry, by the way. This…problem child is a nuisance, as per usual.”

“What, ‘ol Caleb? Nah, he’s a sweetie on the inside, that Lucario. And dontcha worry that pretty little head of yours,” she said, smirk glued to Jessie’s face. “It’s fun, y’know, seeing ya work. Seeing the lady being all proper like.”

She pushed off the wall and meandered over to where she struck the floor with her attack, pulling out her shard with a tug. The Weavile looked to her right, spotted the open window in Nabi’s office, and expertly chucked it outside. “Jessie! There could be other Pokémon out there!” Nabi exclaimed, flailing her arms in distress. Jessie just greeted her with that same toothy smile of hers before she moved to help clean up the papers off the floor. Curse her, Nabi thought. Curse her for how effective that look was.

“Relax, ya’ silly goober. There’s that whole feast happening over at ‘ol Miss Callahan’s farmstead. Ain’t no way anyone just walking around all willy-nill-”

“Now, what do we have here? ‘Errything alright in there, Nabi?” a voice called from outside, freezing both the Mienshao and Weavile in their tracks.

Nabi just stared daggers at Jessie. The Weavile shrugged helplessly, her stupid smile still etched on her face.

“Oops?” she whispered, all conspiratorial.

“Oops?! You balmy fool! Now hide, quick!” Nabi hushed back. She gestured for Jessie to hide behind a filing cabinet in the corner of her office. The Weavile glared at her, but complied; not, of course, before sticking a middle claw up at her. Taking a deep breath, Nabi turned toward the window. “Things are fine in here, Castor! Don’t you worry that head of yours none, I got it handled.”

“Whatever you say, sir,” Castor said, his firm voice flying in through the window. Resolute and stoic as ever. Castor was Nabi’s first deputy, a Sneasler that moved in from a mountainous region close by. The sound of his footsteps from the window trailed off, signaling the deputy’s departure.

Nabi sighed, turning around to chide Jessie again when she felt a weight crash into her, knocking her to the ground in a huff. Nabi’s eyes flashed to meet Jessie’s, a fire burning in the Mienshao’s at the challenge. Again, that smirk from before was there, along with a devious complexion on the Weavile’s face.

“Oh, come on, sir. How long do we have to hide? I ain’t do nothing wrong in years,” she said, licking her lips in exaggeration. “Other ‘Mons, they know we’re close, Nabs. Why ya always gotta put on this front, eh?”

Nabi didn’t hesitate. She reached around quickly with her whip-like appendages before wrapping tightly around the Weavile before she could react, trapping the dual Dark/Ice-type’s arms to her side, before being lifted off the ground with ease.

Jessie’s eyes bulged a bit at that, smirk gone and replaced with a confused stare, dangling above Nabi. This confusion only grew as, with the same fire burning in Nabi’s eyes, the Mienshao brought her down to just before her face, and whispered, “Because I love you, you great yack.”

And then she kissed her. Nabi closed just the minimal hair’s breadth distance between their lips, as she held the Weavile’s body tight against her own, loosening her grip just a touch to allow Jessie control of her own arms again. Those arms quickly moved under hers, grabbing tight at the fur up and around her shoulders, pushing into the kiss with hunger. A few moments, maybe minutes, neither were sure, before Jessie pulled back and stared hungrily into Nabi’s eyes, red eyes meeting red, as equals.

“And ain’t that the problem, sweet thing? I want them to know. I ain’t scared of no retribution,” Jessie huffed, panting a bit.

“But I am, Jess,” Nabi whispered, barely audible. “Reshiram only knows how worried I am, a Dark and Ice-type Pokémon in a small little town of Fighting types?”

Jessie responded with a sneer, but Nabi cut her off before she could voice her complaint. “Yes, yes, I damn well know you can handle yourself. It’s not that…well, not really,” she said, turning to break their eye contact for only a moment to collect her thoughts before returning her gaze. “I know this town. I love this town. But I don’t trust everyone. I don’t trust them as a whole not to make a rash decision, if certain things were to be made public knowledge.”

“What, like we bang?” Jessie scoffed.

Nabi flushed a bit for a moment before steel again entered her gaze. “Zekrom’s Spark, never change Jessie…but yes, that. And all it implies.”

They sat there for a bit, taking in each other’s face, slowly recovering from their brief tussle. A far-off look seemed to take over the Weavile’s eyes for a moment, before she muttered, more formal than she’d ever been in all the time Nabi knew her.

“You ashamed of me, Nabs?”

Guilt tore through Nabi, the words and expression on her lover’s face a one-two punch that took her breath away. She attempted to respond, but hesitated. Was she? No, she loved this beef-headed Weavile, but the fears of what her town would think overwhelmed her. But then, what was that feeling, if not shame?

Jessie caught the hesitation on her snout and closed her eyes, turning her head to the side, and letting out a sigh.

It was so much like a sound Nabi would make that Nabi could not stand to hear it again nor see that expression any longer.

“No, Jess. I am not ashamed of you. I’m just…worried. Very much so. But I see how it looks, and I want to work with you to be better,” she said, using her arms to turn Jessie’s face toward hers, trying to convey as much genuine care as she truly felt.

The vacant look on Jessie’s face turned a little thoughtful at her words, a little more of her energy from before, as she said, “Alright, lady, ya got my attention. Whatcha got?”

“We try your idea. We don’t flaunt anything, but we don’t hide, either. In exchange, you have to be a little more careful with your brazen actions, and you need to let me know if anyone gives you trouble. And if you find trouble…run away. Don’t confront anyone. Come and find me. We deal with whatever happens together. Sound okay?”

Nabi waited on a response, tension filling her as a blank look took over Jessie’s face once more.

“You’re telling me we get to show off, and if anyone throws up a snuff, we get to kick their ass together?” she asked, starting off slowly, but picking up speed as she raced through her question. That toothy smile appeared again, and her red eyes lit up. “No shit I’m okay with this! Let’s do it. All else fails, we leave this backwater town behind, eh?”

Jessie moved into hug Nabi, pushing her head and crown into Nabi’s neck. Nabi felt a little wetness collect in her fur as Jessie chuckled a bit into her side. Chuckles escaped Nabi too as she held on tight, but the last part of Jessie’s statement gave her pause. Shui gave her a duty. This town was under her protection. The Custodian persevered and preserved. She loved this town. Would she be able to leave it all behind if it came to that?

She didn’t have an answer. In her mind, she much preferred fighting tooth and claw for Jessie while the inevitability of their acceptance came to pass. Naïve at best.

Still, not like she had to have an answer now. Holding her beloved, she nuzzled back, basking in the comfort her weight provided.

“So, uh, you want this Coba Berry soup, sir?”

Jessie jerked to look at the voice, bonking her head into Nabi’s. Both of the Pokémon on the ground groaned out in pain. Jessie rolled off Nabi, away from the voice at the door to Nabi’s office, while Nabi turned to look at the intruder. Her first deputy, Castor, stood there holding two bowls of soup, a bored expression on his face.

“Yes, that sounds lovely, Castor. Mind leaving it on my table while I clean up?”

He nodded, moving to place a bowl on her desk. The Sneasler turned around with his own bowl of soup, moving to his own smaller office somewhere else in the building.

“You two are really cute, by the by. Nice to see you again, Jessie. Glad you’re working out together.”

His words floated through the door. Nabi and Jessie both stared at where he left, the sound of his own door shutting lessened by the distance, before their eyes met once again. Jessie was the first to speak.

“Did ya tell hi-”

“No, of course I didn’t!”

Nabi sighed. Castor knew. Of course he did. Well, she supposed it could be worse than having one of her closest allies in her work also be a staunch supporter of her new public relationship. Her soft joy at that melted a bit when she saw a devious look grow on Jessie’s face again, a trickle of fear moving down her spine.

She jumped up off the floor and moved to the door, glancing side-to-side at the opening to make sure no one else was around. Nabi was close behind her, moving to stop whatever plan she had cooked up.

“Jessie, wait–”

“She ‘Cast-or’ lot in with me, deputy. Of course it’ll work out!” she shouted toward his door. No response, but a light chuckle muffled its way through. A smug look overtook her features, and she turned to throw a wink Nabi’s way.

Nabi just grumbled.

“I’m going to regret this decision, aren’t I?”

#pokemon #pmd #oc #pokemon mystery dungeon #wild west #western #sheriff #lesbians #sapphic #wlw #oc pokemon #mienshao #weavile #sneasler #gay kiss

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catt-marp · 3 months

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A Shoulder To Lean On

“This sucks so much shit, dude.”

Kyle almost spat the words, his frustration boiling over. Star pitcher of the prestigious Driftveil University baseball team, knocked out for the indefinite future because of his own shitty anatomy and bad luck. At least, that’s what he thought. Big burst of pain on the inner side of his elbow after throwing a pitch deep into a game. That’s all it took. Apparently he tore a ligament in his arm? Bullshit.

Surgery on his ligament took place a few months back. During the intervening time, countless people assured him that only the best surgeons worked on his precious arm. They better have–those knife-wielding playing-god motherfuckers held his entire future in their shaky hands. When they told him about the expected recovery time, he flipped his lid faster than his Arceus-damned fastball. A year?

Which led him to today, mulling over the inherent unfairness of the world from his spot on an exercise table in a physical therapist‘s office in downtown Driftveil.

He’d suffered through months of nothing but the simplest of exercises and stretches on the recommendation of his trainer. No throwing, no sprinting, nothing. The most excitement he’d had was riding a stationary bike at a leisurely pace through a computer-generated meadow projected on the screens of his exercise equipment. Absolutely thrilling stuff.

He’d protested, but doctors and trainers alike insisted that any more “strenuous” exercises could risk increasing the time to return to peak form. Worse, the wrong “stress” could lead to permanent losses. Kyle was stubborn and frustrated and annoyed, but he wasn’t an idiot.

Give it time and do what you’re told. That mantra repeated in the back of his mind over and over.

Finally, FINALLY, the news came that he could advance on his treatment plan. Did that mean he’d get to throw the ball again? Some Janitor throws, or step back pivot tosses? Maybe even a towel drill?

No, of course not. It just meant it was time for some slightly different silly stretches. He wanted to scream.

Instead, he worked his shoulder muscles for the billionth time.

“All of the shit. Just draining down the back of my throat. Nasty, disgusting, diarrhea shits.”

“You humans are strange sometimes.”

The voice had come out of nowhere, a deep baritone woven within an electronic pattern; the sign of a functioning translation device. The sound heralded Kyle’s villain for the day, the reason for his sour mood.

Stupid Pokémon.

Kyle turned to face the perpetrator. A colossal wall of a Throh greeted him, a stoic look on his face. The standard physical therapist’s outfit of loose, dark blue scrubs replaced the more traditional judogi his species normally wore. Located over the left side of his chest, a badge held an ID photo of the Throh, his name written above in text too small for Kyle to make out. The text he could make out was more important, after all. Physical Therapist.

Who decided it was a good idea to let their pet play pretend?

“Listen, Mr. Muppet Man, I’m just trying to work through the stress of my life being thrown directly into a blender, alright?”

A bit more venom escaped in his words than he expected, but his frustration felt justified. His Physical Therapist left him with these useless repetitive motions before leaving the room to take a call. She said Kyle would be fine with her partner, who was standing off to the side of the room for the duration of his appointment until this point. He spotted the Judo Pokémon greeting him with a small wave when he first got settled in his exercise room, but he had not made himself known until now.

The Throh arched his brow at the remark, but if it upset him, he made no note of it. He slowly ambled towards Kyle.

“My apologies for this…thing,” he said, gesturing toward the translator device pinned to his uniform near his badge. It took Kyle a moment to realize that the deep voice lacked any electronic hum. “I can speak Human, but…must be clear for care of patients.”

With a flick of a switch on the side of the device, it lit up again with a brilliant green light, indicating it was working. The Throh pulled a chair alongside him and sat down next to the table Kyle was using. He made eye contact with Kyle, a calm look on his face.

“Sorry for the late introduction. Toshiro’s the name, physical therapy is my game, believe it or not. I just felt your words were strange. But many humans say strange words here,” Toshiro said, tilting his head to the side in thought.

Kyle realized quickly he much preferred when the big lug of a Pokémon pretended to be a statue and not his trainer.

“We do that when we are frustrated, I guess. Start spewing whatever’s on the top of our head. Like yes, my elbow is getting so much better by stretching my back and shoulder. Of course that makes perfect sense.”

Toshiro nodded along, not appearing to pick up on the sarcasm dripping from Kyle’s words.

“That was ironic, Throh. This is stupid,” he growled, putting a little emphasis on the words to make his meaning clear to the stupid fighting creature.

A frown split Toshiro’s neutral expression. “Did Sarah not explain at the start of this visit? Or did I mishear her?”

Kyle had not misheard her; he just didn’t care for the details. He needed to ease himself in and strengthen muscles. Not mess things up long term. Things he knew, but he found that thinking about them repetitively was worse than the physical repetitions he was oh so familiar with at this point.

“No, please enlighten me, Mr. Physical Therapist,” Kyle said in the most sickly sweet voice he could muster.

Without a word of complaint, Toshiro got up and walked over to stand on the right side of Kyle.

“May I examine your arm?” the Throh asked, tone professional.

Arm held out, Kyle internally rolled his eyes at the lack of a rise at his words. It looked like the big lug was actually trying to help him, so he would do as asked and pay attention. He could do that much, even though he just expected a parroting of what he heard before from Sarah. This was her Pokémon after all, right?

Toshiro took hold of Kyle’s arm, one hand on the upper part and another on the lower.

“You had a total tear of your UCL–it’s the ligament on the inside of your elbow that connects the bone in your upper arm and lower arm. The surgeons took some tissue from somewhere else on your body or had a donor to replace the torn ligament. You most recently had the elbow brace removed that was being used as a support for the last month or so. All this sound correct?”

Kyle nodded, uncertain where Toshiro was going with this, but willing to play along.

“Studies suggest the best way to give athletes a chance of full recovery is through ensuring surrounding muscular structures remain active and strong. These have also revealed that these injuries can lead to long-term balance issues and problems with shoulder joints. This leads to muscle deficits in the medial flexor-pronator complex because of maximum activation during–oh sorry, I got ahead of myself there. Does that make sense?” Toshiro said, pausing for a moment with a sheepish expression on his face.

Kyle blinked. Sarah had not gone into this amount of detail. The young man had goals of being the best pitcher he could be, so he knew more about the mechanics of arm muscles and structures than most people thought. That the Pokémon next to him knew this much and could go into even more detail if pressed surprised Kyle. Thoughts of books and judging covers crossed his mind before he returned to the conversation.

“Yeah, it does. What else ya got for me?” he said, a sudden burst of energy filling his words.

A smile grew on Toshiro’s face as his hand on Kyle’s upper arm moved up to the athlete's shoulder as he continued, “Well, the elbow itself functions as a sort of kinetic chain, where all the structures in tandem work together to ensure proper delivery of force and power. Because of this, strengthening not only surrounding muscles, but the muscles in your core and in your hips, will give you a greater chance of recovering well and getting back to your pitching goals.” He paused for a second to wait for questions. Kyle had none, but watched Toshiro with rapt attention, as if asking for more. “Research has shown that focusing on the shoulder, wrist, legs, and your abdomen decreases stress on the elbow and aids in its own recovery.”

Kyle mused on these thoughts for a moment. Strengthening the body as a whole could improve the individual parts, huh? He supposed that made sense and could work with that. Better than nothing. The question from before barged its way into his mind, however, demanding an answer.

“Okay, I understand that. More detailed than Sarah, but still the focus is on everything but the injured part of my body! Why can’t I start with elbow stuff? Isn’t doing nothing about it also bad?”

Toshiro kept his same polite expression, moving the hand on Kyle’s forearm up to the elbow proper while the other remained on Kyle’s right shoulder. He gently took hold of the elbow, and then rotated Kyle’s arm at the shoulder joint a few times to test something only he was aware of. No wince or grimace of pain appeared on the young man’s face.

“Right, here’s the thing. The plan was to move forward by adding elbow-focused exercises, but only once the soreness improved and you could move your elbow without pain. We will continue to provide pain relief–like the ultrasound machine, electric stimulation, muscle manipulation, and more throughout all this. Not to cause any grief, but, well, Sarah mentioned this near the end of her explanation, but you appeared a little…distracted, I suppose, and may have missed it?”

Kyle groaned and looked back on that conversation about half an hour prior. Yes, she had mentioned something about “next steps,” hadn’t she? Ugh, how embarrassing, he thought. He blamed the frustration and lack of specific answers. No one had tried starting off with this much detail before.

“Okay, yeah, uh…shit, she said something like that? I wouldn’t miss shit like that if people didn’t baby me, though. I care enough about my future to look into this stuff, y’know?”

Toshiro kept manipulating his elbow and doing the soft-tissue mobilizations they told Kyle about previously while he spoke without missing a beat. “Did you ask? Everyone on our team is happy to share as much or as little information with patients, as long as you understand the important stuff.”

Heat filled Kyle’s cheeks. He had not, in fact, asked. Stupid, idiotic, boneheaded play. The frustration from before swelled, but not directed at any of the people he had worked with. No, this was all directed straight at himself. He stewed a bit in these thoughts, but his lack of an answer was one enough for Toshiro.

“Hey, it’s fine, you know? You’re not wrong. It is a major, life-changing event for you, and even doing everything right can lead to injuries like this,” he said, taking a hand off Kyle’s shoulder and clapping his back in a reassuring manner. “Your frustration, your fears, these are valid feelings. We are only here to help you through this and get you to where you yourself want to be, aye?”

The room was still, with neither of the two moving for a moment as Kyle processed the words. He would never admit how touched he was by the words. A rueful smile spread across his own face, thinking of his behavior and his own first impressions of Toshiro. He had definitely jumped the gun on this guy.

“You’re right. I am frustrated. But I apologize for my words earlier. They were fucking rude,” Kyle said, moving to rub his left hand on the back of his head. “And, uh, I’d like to hear more if you’re willing to work with me.”

He looked away as he said this, more embarrassed with himself than anything. A chuckle escaped the Throh, untranslated; the sound felt like it came from a deeper register than possible. It finally, truly hit Kyle how his trainer actually was a Pokémon, not human.

“Of course, Kyle. What other questions do you have?” Toshiro moved back, ready to continue this session in Sarah’s absence.

The frustration at his situation no longer overran Kyle’s thoughts. It was still there, and he didn’t think it would go away throughout the entire length of this recovery period. This was bullshit. But the drive to improve, to listen, and to better himself was never stronger, and all it took was a brief chat with a Pokémon.

Actually, Kyle thought, it was a chat with a good physical therapist.

#pokemon #oc #throh #drama #medical #physical health #physical therapy #recovery #healing #self reflection #introspection #baseball #ulnar collateral ligament #UCL tear #pitcher

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catt-marp · 3 months

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BG3 Pokémon Tales:

You find a Mimikyu in the underdark, alone and injured. They appear to wear a rag fastened into the rough shape of a Riolu. You’re wary, as it is not the first Pokémon you’ve run into down here. Unnaturally aggressive lot down here, after all. Except…they aren’t.

Tendrils of darkness extend out from under their disguise, coiling threateningly in the air between you both. A voice, a light, high-pitched voice, echoes in your mind as if from another realm.

Leave. Please.

You glance closer; the disguise makes it impossible to tell on vision alone, but the voice sounded…frightened and unsure. A rare thing, not having to defend yourself on sight.

You offer calm words, words of peace. You offer to heal. The tendrils recede, and a feeling of confusion enters your mind, before a tentative nod comes from the creature in front of you.

You expend some of your precious healing supplies as the Mimikyu eyes you warily. You respond in kind, readying your wings to take off. You never need to, as you and the Mimikyu make an uneasy alliance, agreeing to help each other. You ask for help to traverse the unknown underground; they ask for help to find their way home. They don’t belong in the Underdark.

You share many adventures. Many battles. You get to know them and their wary shell hides an innocent, playful personality underneath. They share their insecurities on forming bonds, as their Fairy and Ghost powers and reputation push most folks, Pokémon or otherwise, away. You share your sense of lost honor, and your goal to retain it by helping to right a great wrong done to your homeland. How, no matter what you’ve done, it hasn’t been enough.

Surprisingly, you become good friends. You had traveled alone for necessity’s sake, but, against your better judgment, you let someone in that appeared to be going through something similar to yourself. Alone. Scared. Now together.

Your journey continues on, but the Mimikyu has a surprise for you. They tell you to wait outside the tent you share to bunker down at night the next morning. You wait patiently, laughing as they tell you to cover your eyes as well. You made sure the path was clear and neither of you were in danger as you played along. Eventually, they tell you to open your eyes.

Surprise initially hits you; the tattered Riolu you had grown used to was no more. Instead, a colorful mask and fake beak adorned the Mimikyu’s front, with tattered cloth extending to the sides as it shimmied back and forth in the shape of makeshift wings. Suddenly, a feeling of something you have not felt in what feels like forever hits you; fondness.

You rush forward and hug them, and you feel the wings you saw before curling around you.

You were, after all, their favorite Pokémon now.

#pokemon #pmd #oc #pokemon mystery dungeon #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #unlikely friends #mimikyu #hawlucha #adventure #dungeons and dragons #crossover

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catt-marp · 5 months

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Regrets

Summary: As golden orbs of light brought an end to Dusknoir’s existence; he’s confronted with a thought. One he’d long been avoiding since the day he arrived in the world of the past, and came in contact with two young, small Pokémon. The same two he’d eventually come to grow fond of, only to betray as part of his mission. As he’s forced to finally confront it in his isolation, Dusknoir finds himself coming to an epiphany. One he’d been denying for a very, very long time.

[Word count: 2130]

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‘Aimilios... Ribbons...’ The ghost type melancholically lamented to himself. ‘They… did it….’

The black, paralyzed skies had begun to shift as the morning came. Rays of light hit the ghost type’s body; although numb, even he’d felt the warmth of the sun course through him. Time was finally moving again… and all Dusknoir could do was helplessly watch as his body faded; the light bringing an end to his existence.

Dusknoir cannot describe the emotions he’s feeling. Proud…? Accomplished…? Fearful….?

Damn it all. Arceus… if only he’d realized the mistake he was making. If only he’d defied Primal Dialga and had his change of heart sooner… Maybe just maybe… those two would’ve still…. The three of them could’ve been-

No.

It’s over.

He ruined it.

…Dusknoir turns his head slowly, his gaze falling on to Grovyle; the reason he decided to go against Primal Dialga’s wishes in the first place. The reason he lived; for what would perhaps be the first time in ages… Had it not been for his speech back at the icicle pillars…Dusknoir doesn’t even want to think of the calamity that would’ve ensued. He continues to stare at the slowly disappearing grass-type, almost thoughtful.

“Grovyle…”

The grass-type’s eyes meet the black specter’s pained expression.

“My M-my life… Did it shine….?”

Dusknoir wanted to hear it from Grovyle. He wouldn’t feel satisfied, or even happy hearing it from himself. The ghost’s self-hatred was deep rooted enough as it was. Especially after all of what he had done. He needed a second opinion.

“…Yes.” The lizard Pokémon smiles, softly reassuring Dusknoir in what would be his final moments. “…Extraordinarily.”

…Dusknoir, despite not believing Grovyle, chooses to do so. Offering a small smile back at his old friend. “Grovyle… Thanks to you…..”

He pauses.

“…I have no regrets.”

…Dusknoir begins to feel himself slipping away completely; his physical form fading into illuminated lights in the sky as he draws his final breath… His death is almost comforting... At least- it would’ve been, had he made peace with his unspoken feelings… towards them. Even when he’s disappearing. Even when he’s dying…

He still couldn’t tell the truth.

One regret.

He had all but one.

…And now, he’ll never see them again. Never be able to tell them how sorry he was. Never be able to tell those two how much they meant to him.

What they actually meant to him.

How foolish was he…? To get attached like this…? To care so much about their futures as well as his…? ..He couldn’t even admit how much they mattered to him in his final moments…He really is just a liar, isn’t he? And that’s all the two will remember him for. Their scornful expressions when he’d laughed at their misery during their confrontation in the future. Their looks of betrayal. Tears rolled down the eevee and riolu’s faces as they unhinged their claws and teeth at Dusknoir. To think at the time, he found their reactions simply hysterical…

——————

“YOU LIAR..!”

“W-WE TRUSTED YOU..!”

“Pray tell… who’s fault is that?” Dusknoir sneered. “Not once had I asked for your background, or your names.”

Dusknoir began to float menacingly towards Aimilios. “Last I recall, you were responsible for your own partner’s downfall.”

“I-I….”

“LEAVE HIM ALONE…!!”

——————

…Now all he feels is a sharp pain stabbing through his chest recalling that horrible memory.

If there was a heaven or hell; the latter would be awaiting him right about now.

Speaking of…

Dusknoir opens his eye, attempting to browse his uncanny surroundings. What meets the ghost-type is… emptiness?

“…What on earth..?” His eye wanders down to his body.

…He appears in what looks like a pitch-black void. Dusknoir himself would’ve blended right in with the endless abyss had it not been for the yellow outlines distinguishing the features of his silhouette-like shadow… the same exact hue of yellow lights that’d been responsible for his disappearance moments ago… it’s almost as if he’d become a ghost all over again... He’d find the circumstances slightly amusing had it not been for his current dilemma. Dusknoir stares at his golden-laced hand, before contemplating something.

‘…Perhaps..’ Dusknoir thinks to himself. ‘Perhaps… it’s better this way…’ He knows it’s selfish. He knows he’s being a coward. But… now he doesn’t have to face Ribbons and Aimilios. He doesn’t have to look at those same faces that once revered him with such adoration; now fear, in the eyes… And yet… The thought of never seeing those two again… why does the thought bring him so much unnecessary pain? They were only means to an end to begin with- so why does he even CARE?!

“…GWOOH.. GWOOOOH..!!!” The ghost-type’s head begins to throb uncontrollably; Dusknoir clutches his head; nearly identical to how he did when breaking down in the midst of Grovyle’s speech. He clutches his temple harder in a feeble attempt to satiate the pain. Why couldn’t he just stop…? He’d tried so hard to detach himself from Ribbons and Aimilios once he realized who they were... Yet like a complete and utter fool; he stayed close. So close to an eevee and riolu he was ordered to execute. Why couldn’t he just forget about those two…? It would hurt so much less. They were means to an end to begin with- so WHY?!

“B-BLAST IT..!”

He slams both of his fists on the onyx colored ground beneath him in frustration. The yellow outlines of his body begin to glow violently as he draws heavy, shallow breaths.

…Dusknoir is suddenly plagued with a memory- of those two. He… remembers the eevee and riolu smiling widely; at him no less. It was… around the time when he’d referred to them as his ‘friends’. A mere front to gain their trust. Dusknoir recounts just how overjoyed they looked… and how that happiness made something in his chest hurt for a split second. He didn’t have to give them false hope. He didn’t have to play this ‘father figure’ ruse as far as he did… and yet. there was a small part of him that genuinely enjoyed it; and an even smaller part of him that knew he’d regret it.

————————

“You mean it?!” The riolu beamed. “You’ll really help us?!”

“But of course!” Dusknoir smiled, placing a hand on his chest. “I offer you two, my full cooperation!”

Dusknoir watched as the two Pokémon whip their heads towards eachother; almost trying to confirm the other’s disbelief. Before looking back at him; tails wagging rapidly in unision, before the tackling the ghost-type in a hug.

“Thank you thank you thank you!!!” Ribbons cheered. “You have no idea how much this means to us!”

Dusknoir recollected himself; before putting a hand on each of the overjoyous Pokémon’s heads.

“I’m… glad to hear. Truly.” A lie, obviously…but even he couldn’t help but smile a little at their shared enthusiasm.

“By golly..! Huff… huff…”

All three of the Pokémon had turned their heads to the out-of-breath Bidoof. Dusknoir immediately put Ribbons and Aimilios down; a slightly embarrassed blush crossing the ghost’s face as he brushed himself off coughing, returning to his more professional, stoic-like persona.

———————————

…He didn’t have to play with their emotions. He could’ve just as easily stayed acquaintances- kept his distance- but no. He just had to enjoy spending time with them. He had to get closer to them. He had to remember their favorite foods. To enjoy laughing with them until his stomach became sore, protecting them, watching over them, loving them as if they were…

Were…

…Dusknoir can’t help but hold his hand under his eye. He… he really did care those two... As if they were his own… his own…

“….Hoh…”

His train of thought comes to a complete halt. The idea of those two? Seeing him that way? After what he had done? After the horrible things he’s said…?

“Ho..Hohohaha..! HOHOHOHA-HA-HA-HA!”

His laughter becomes more and more erratic; holding one hand under his eye as the other grips his head- his cackles echoing into the never ending void.

“HAH-HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAhahaa…!“

Dusknoir’s broken laughter echoes throughout the void; until there’s nothing left but silence. Both of Dusknoir’s hands now cover his face as he crumbles to the ground. A shell of what was once the ‘Great Dusknoir’… was nothing more but the husk of a broken ghost. Too selfish and weak to do the right thing; and stand by the only two Pokémon who were willing to trust him with their lives… He wishes the endless abyss he was in would just swallow him already.

“Aimilios…Ribbons…” Dusknoir’s voice cracks; calling out for the ones he’d hurt.

…They deserved so much better than him. He didn’t deserve them. And to think in the beginning, they’d been the ones who were trying to prove themselves to be worthy of him... When it’d been the other way around this entire time. How ironic.

How absolutely ironic.

…Which reminds him-

“Ribbons…!” His head shoots up in a panic; his eye filled with worry.

She had already disappeared at this point, didn’t she..? In front of Aimilios no less..? He can’t even begin to fathom how horrible it must’ve been for both of them… at such young ages… maybe if he’d assisted them on their perilous journey to Temporal Tower…. he could’ve been there to remedy the weight of their situation… but of course instead, he used it in a pathetic attempt to beg for his life. Dumping everything onto Ribbons in a last ditch effort to save his own ghostly skin… in the small desperate hope she’d finally understand why he…

…Selfish.

So selfish.

Of course his train of thought immediately went straight back to him. He can’t think about anyone’s wellbeing except for his own. His ‘self preservation’. His ‘life’. Nevermind all of the Pokémon he was going to deny the futures of. He was at risk. So they all had to pay for it. Because of his cowardice.

This was his atonement.

He deserved this.

Dusknoir closes his eye. Maybe in his next life he’ll be a decent Pokémon. One worthy of respect. Of adoration.

Of love.

“Gah...”

Dusknoir groans. Why does it feel so cold all of a sudden..?

Wait.. cold?

He sees… ice… and feels… wind?

‘…What..?’

He slowly gets up; using his hands to suspend himself in the air. He looks around- only to see himself back.

Back on the mountain.

He stares at his hands for an indeterminate amount of time before they begin to tremble. His expression contorted into one of self-loathing and confusion.

“W-we’re still here…” His fingers curl into fists.

“I didn’t disappear…! Wh-Why?!”

Dusknoir shouts; almost disgusted by the fact he was revived- rather than questioning how it was even possible in the first place. No. He doesn’t- He shouldn’t be here. It must’ve been some kind of mistake… That’s it. There’s no other logical explanation for why he should be still here. Perhaps the higher being that brought him back into this world will immediately realize their error, and make swift work of him.

“We… we truly are still here…” Grovyle lamented, breathing a sigh of what would be an overwhelming rush relief. Celebi begins to flutter her wings happily around the grass-type.

“Wonderful!! I don’t know why we were fading and didn’t disappear…” She twirls, overjoyous now having gained all her strength back. “…But everyone is safe!! Oh my beloved..! Isn’t this just an amazing wonderful thing?!”

Grovyle chuckles heartedly. “It is.”

Unfortunately among the three; the ghost type was not experiencing the same joy as the grass type pokemon. Dusknoir had been drowning out half of their words of cheer and relief with thoughts of contempt. Self-depricational thoughts clouded the ghost-type’s mind as he kept searching for logical answers for his revival… Everyone else made sense. But why him of all Pokémon..?!

“Why..? Wh-Why me..?” Dusknoir whispered to himself dejectedly; mirroring his words from when his Sableye ‘betrayed’ him.

The only difference being how genuine it was.

Pr- Dialga had appeared to explain the whole situation to the trio. Once that had been done, Grovyle, and Celebi walked and flew individually near the edge of the mountain to feel the sun on their skins; their accomplishments finally having been paid off, soaking in the sun…

……Dusknoir, however; had stayed in the exact spot he’d been revived. His thoughts plagued him. This was not his victory. This was not for him to enjoy. What was he to do now..? Live his life as if nothing happened..? As if he didn’t hurt countless Pokémon..? Guilt had almost immediately begun to eat away at the ghost-type. He looks down at his hands one last time... Perhaps death would’ve been too good for a despicable Pokémon such as himself. The torment of being alive, and living with what he had done seemed like a fitting and ironic enough punishment… but that wasn’t what truly scared him.

Far from it, in fact.

Without a doubt in Dusknoir’s mind; Grovyle and Celebi would want to return back to the past… perhaps not this very instant; but at a given point. And when that time finally arrives…

Dusknoir stares at the Passage of Time facing him. Almost mocking him.

…He’d have to face them.

“…” Dusknoir clenches his fists tightly; his brow furrowing.

…The mere thought of confronting those two again- No no no no no. He- he should have disappeared. Death would’ve been a mercy. He can’t face them- not again. Looking at the same two children he tried to slaughter with his bare hands mere hours ago face-to-face..? Dusknoir’s fists tremble as his terror consumes him. What would they say..? Let alone think..? They’d run at the mere sight of him. He-

He doesn’t want to scare them.

He doesn’t want to hurt them.

He..

…Now he has something else to be afraid of.

#pmd eos #pmd writing tag #love this

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catt-marp · 5 months

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Love this story and the themes it presents. Read it years ago and got me following Lynx and the rest of her works.

Please read it and feel the same emotions I felt!!

Today, The Skybox is ten years old!! I honestly can't believe that it's been that long, it feels like both just yesterday and a lifetime ago that I started this comic. I haven't drawn for it in awhile, but just wanted to paint a little something for the anniversary.

And hey, if you haven't read The Skybox yet, maybe consider giving it a look? It's long but reads quite fast, and it's fully complete. It's got some queer characters and some disabled ones, and it's got things like dragons and griffins and space birds. It's about how the stories we tell shape our world, and about how important it is to find rest.

You can read it starting here!

#skybox #the skybox #griffin

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catt-marp · 5 months

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Important reminder of the design philosophy behind Undertale.

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catt-marp · 5 months

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Musings on crossovers

The brainrot from FF XIV and Pokemon is crossing over in my head; conversations with another writer has me wanting to do more with this, but I have SO many other things I want to write.

Ugh.

#pokemon #final fantasy xiv #final fantasy 14 #ffxiv #pmd #pokemon mystery dungeon #musings

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catt-marp · 5 months

Note

This Ralsei is adorable and I want to hug them

Can Ralsei take off his cute green glasses?

Lookit them sparkly pink peepers!!

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catt-marp · 5 months

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A Brief Reprieve

(Quick thing I wrote about a 'Mon who does nothing but battle and forever lives in their Poke Ball; may expand on the concept more in the future)

Silence. Blessed silence. I found myself in the realm between realities, the place which held the greatest comfort. The black void surrounding me, a blanket from the pain. My tails could finally settle into place. A time of peace. A brief reprieve.

My trainer, he cared about me, in his own way. When I fought well and won, he shot me looks of joy and heaped praise upon me before I whisk away back to the void between. The wounds I gained, in victory or defeat, healed quickly. The energy pulsed into my body as I laid in my silence. There was love there, I was sure of it…right?

Oh. Oh no. I sensed my cage rising from its place on his belt. This was coming too soon!

A burst of light, and a battle of life and death began once again.

#pokemon #pokeball #drama #writing #creative writing

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catt-marp · 5 months

Photo

Some greninja doodles I did because its design speaks to my love of big puffy pants.

Greninja really is a bunny frog.

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catt-marp · 5 months

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Enough (Meowscarada/Hisuian-Zoroark PMD story)

He awoke to a gasp, the sound of clattering furniture, and a groan of pain. Bloom found himself snuggled underneath his portion of their covers, blinking the sleep from his eyes. A whimper from across the room brought him to full alert in an instant.

The Meowscarada sat up, haphazardly throwing the covers aside on the floor next to their bedding, and reached for the lamp on their bedside table. Light filled the room as he flicked it on and looked around, searching for his partner.

He found a lump of red and white fur next to a fallen dresser, its contents spilled out onto the floor. Red-tipped tendrils extending from white bases shuffled around aimlessly in a lazy pattern pointed toward the ceiling. The lump let out another whimper.

“Ki, darling?” Bloom let out a tentative whisper, eyeing the collapsed Pokémon. The moon was out in full force tonight, as its light flickered in through an open window, illuminating the floor with an eerie glow. Bloom was wide awake now. From his angle on the bed, he could see a Hisuian-Zoroark curled up in a ball, paws and arms covering his face.

Rapid breaths escaped as his form rose and fell. Shaking.

Bloom got up quickly and rushed to his partner’s side, paying no heed to the surrounding mess. The lamp flickered behind Bloom as he slid onto the floor next to his partner, placing a paw on his shoulder.

“Kiah!” The nightmares were nothing new. The scars from their past would forever lay claim in their minds. “It’s me! It’s Bloom! I’m here!”

Reassurance. Faith. Trust.

Something they built over a life together, through boon and through ill. They faced their trials together; tonight was nothing different.

He waited patiently while Kiah continued to pant in distress.

“It wasn’t-”

Kiah spoke, still facing the floor. Nothing more than a grunt, before he cut himself off. With a roll of his shoulders, he pushed himself up and sat cross-legged. His paws fidgeted nervously in his lap. He faced Bloom and revealed his face for the first time since they both stirred. Tears streaked his fur, a far-off look in his eyes.

“It wasn’t enough.”

A bitter pall blanketed the room as the Zoroark finished his sentence, a chill sprinting unbidden down Bloom’s spine. No scent of fear filled the air, however—not after all this time.

“They–you, I mean–no one! It just, well, you didn’t-,” Kiah said, tripping over his words with a pleading look on his face.

Bloom leaned forward, stretching his arms around Kiah and pulling the Zoroark’s forehead to his, closing his eyes.

“Peace, my love. You’re safe. That’s enough. You don’t need to strive for anything else.”

They sat there together, Bloom holding tight to his partner; would hold tight for as long as needed. The familiar scent of his love seemed to overpower the bitter feeling from before until, with time, that bitterness faded away. Soon, the Meowscarada felt arms against his own back; the Zoroark leaning into the embrace as they held the connection between their foreheads.

After a few minutes, Bloom leaned back, making sure not to let go of what was his. He opened his pink-colored eyes and a pair of yellow ones greeted him. An unsure look on the Zoroark’s face–a slight improvement from the pain-filled expression Bloom had seen before.

Bloom held eye contact for a moment, then gave his best crooked smile. The one that Kiah had fallen for.

And, oh, the tears started again. The Zoroark fell into the Meowscarada, both of them tumbling to the floor in a heap together. There was no bitterness in the air, nor in the tears that stained his fur.

It was a clear night with little to no wind blowing through their home, no extra scents but their own for their noses to pick up. Silence filled the room, broken up occasionally by the sounds of sniffling and soothing.

Eventually, Kiah spoke up.

“Thanks, Bloom.”

They both took a moment to return to their prior positions on the floor. Bloom reached forward and ran a paw up and over Kiah’s face to lay his mane back, to better see his lover’s face. The Zoroark’s own subdued smile appeared on his face.

“It was more than the usual affair this time. I’m used to reliving old wounds, betrayals from various villages, but…” one of Kiah’s paws squeezed tightly to Bloom’s shoulder, face scrunching up. “This time, you were among them.”

Bloom reached up with both paws, taking Kiah’s paws into his own and bringing them down together in between the two of them, quietly providing support as he nodded at the Zoroark to continue.

“You know all about the struggle I’ve had. You’ve been at the receiving end of my shit and, conversely, stuck with me through all the garbage others have thrown at me.”

He paused.

“I…still feel anxiety about this body. About how I appear to people.”

A burst of Typeless energy filled the space with a quick flash of light, and in Bloom’s arms appeared a small, familiar Eevee. Bloom brought his head down to nuzzle the top of the Eevee’s head, an amused smile on his face as he did so. The Eevee batted him away with a paw, a look of mock frustration on his face. Bloom let out a snicker, but then a genuine smile grew across his face as he leaned back, urging his partner to continue on.

“Strange to say it, but this little shit still feels more like ‘me’ sometimes,” he said, maintaining eye contact with his now brown-colored eyes. “This form hasn’t gotten me thrown out of villages. It hasn’t led to me getting blindsided by random Pokémon’s attacks. Nor has it led to me putting those I care about, those I love, in danger. And yet…”

The Eevee jumped from Bloom’s arms to the floor and faced the Meowscarada with a look of resolve.

A burst again, a flash, then Kiah, sitting there in his true Hisuian-Zoroark form. The Zoroark quickly took hold of his partner’s paws, as they were before. This time, the smiles on each of their faces matched.

“You, who were the most annoying creature I ever met, love me for this. Love me enough to continue to support me as I…figure all this shit out. And honestly, it feels good to have a sense of rightness to living as a Zoroark, for once.”

A pause, a sigh, then a determination to see this through passed across his face.

“You told me that no matter what I did to help, it wasn’t enough. Just like everyone else. I was dangerous. Unwanted. Cursed. You stood there with a crowd of random Pokémon, saying the same shit. And that…somehow, that hadn’t happened before.” He shuddered. “That was a new dream. It was so vivid. So real. I panicked. I’m not sure when I went from dreamscape to reality.”

He looked away, shame plain across his features.

“Hey,” Bloom said, drawing Kiah’s attention back to him. “You know that wasn’t me, right? I love you, Kiah.”

“Of course I do! Well, now I do–err, did! I don’t know! Nightmares suck shit, alright!”

Bloom took this moment to sneak a peck of his lips to Kiah’s. Kiah sputtered incredulous sounds in response.

“Love, you misunderstand. I know nightmares, as you said, ‘suck shit,’ but I do not mean to dismiss your worries here. I just want you to know I’m here, really here. That other Bloom you saw sounds like a real asshole.”

A chuckle. A real, Arceus-damned chuckle escaped from Kiah’s lips. Kiah eyed Bloom seriously, however, as he worked himself up to say what was on his mind a moment later.

“When I heard your voice earlier, I thought for a moment that my reality got thrown into the shitter yet again,” he said, a lingering tinge of worry to the words. “But you brought me out of that space, as you have again and again. You’re so fucking good, Bloom. It sometimes makes me feel like you’re too good for m-”

The tiniest pulse of Dark-Type energy struck one of Kiah’s paws as an unnerving expression appeared on Bloom’s face; a smile, eyes closed, extremely dangerous. The barest hint of a Knock Off dissipated into the room as those eyes trained on him, open and a warning on display.

“Ki, we’ve talked about this. You aren’t the only one with issues. I got loads of ‘em. Loads! They barely fit in our home!”

Time for a bold action, Bloom thought, and moved on instinct.

He removed his paws from Kiah’s grasp, moving them to the back of Kiah’s head. Kiah was then pulled abruptly into a kiss. Their mouths met and stayed together as Bloom held them there. This was far more than a simple peck. He would have let go if Kiah had objected, but it never came. Bloom tried to press as much of the raw emotion he held inside into Kiah; putting on a brave face for his love throughout this conversation had been difficult.

Perhaps words were not what was needed, but this. Passion. Compassion. In equal measure.

They held this position for a few seconds, before Bloom felt paws against the back of his own head, holding him close. Bloom felt a fire light inside of him. They continued their fervid exchange for minutes on end as both of their paws began exploring the other’s body. He wanted so desperately to take it further, to take Kiah to bed, but the conversation wasn’t over yet.

Bloom pulled away against some resistance and against the rising lust he felt course through his body.

“Arceus, I’d love to continue that, but we weren’t done talking, sweetheart,” he said, panting.

Kiah just gave him a frustrated look, pouting. He eventually nodded and sat back on the floor.

“Now, as I was saying, we both have problems, Ki. Both are as valid as can be, but I want you to know I plan on sticking with you as long as you’ll allow me.” He put his right paw to the side of Kiah’s face. “Believe me when I say that neither of us are too good for the other. I struggle with those thoughts as well, you know? You were always the more competent one, the cool one, the one everyone could rely on, while I tripped over berries on the ground.”

He held up his other paw to stop the protest from Kiah, and continued, “You mean the world to me. It hurts me when you talk down about yourself like that. Just like I did there, right?”

“Bloom, I–no, not quite enough,” he said, raising his left paw to Bloom’s face, mirroring him. “My beloved. Thanks again for…for just being you. Of course you’re right.”

“I know! I’m right a lot, because you are so far stuck up your ass all the time! Someone has to be around to pull you out!” Bloom laughed and jumped forward into another embrace.

“You’re such a dick sometimes, ya know that?” Kiah said flatly.

“Yes, but I’m your dick, Foxy, and only yours,” Bloom said, tightening their embrace. “Feel better?”

“I…do. I still feel a little on edge. Maybe…we could continue what we started earlier?”

Kiah eyed the bed not-so-surreptitiously, and Bloom leaned back to give him a blank look.

“I guess I’m not the only dick you’re thinking of, huh?”

Kiah sputtered again. He was always so adorable when he got flustered. Bloom thought it would be best if he saved his partner yet again.

“How about, instead, my husband takes me to bed, and we lay down, cuddle, and tell each other how wonderful the other one is? Hmm?” Bloom asked with an impish smile on his face.

Kiah’s shoulders slumped in jest. But then, in a show of strength, he picked up Bloom and started walking toward the bedding they shared. He glanced behind him at the knocked over dresser, items and articles of clothing spread all over the floor of their bedroom.

“Oh. Right. Oops. Well, that can wait until the morning,” he said, as he first laid Bloom down on the bed before jumping to the other side, snuggling up to Bloom as the Meowscarada reached to the ground to return their covers to their rightful place. Bloom then flipped the lamp off and turned to face his husband.

“Now, why don’t I start by saying there is no one braver on this entire planet than the fox I find in my bed…”

Hope y'all enjoyed.

#pokemon #oc #pmd #hurt/comfort #nightmare #romance #hisuian zoroark #meowscarada #lgbtq #identity issues #fluff #domestic fluff #romantic couple #gay kiss

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catt-marp · 6 months

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Left Behind - Sylveon & Trainer story

The pager in his hand gave little away–a room number and the patient’s age. The room itself was a few floors up and on the opposite end of the hospital. He reached down to his belt where his partner currently enjoyed a well-earned rest. He took the Poké Ball off his belt and released his friend into the call-room that was their home base on days like today. A bed, a bedside table with a lit lamp providing the only lighting in the room, and a desk and chair combination with a computer not actively running. No windows, as per usual.

A flash of light later, a Sylveon stood at Oliver’s feet shaking off the last vestiges of sleep as he looked up at his best friend, tilting his head a little in question.

“Duty calls, Star! Sorry to wake you from your nap. I know you didn’t sleep great last night,” Oliver said with an apologetic smile on his face.

Star strode up to Oliver and rubbed against his leg where he sat on the bed, his signal for pets. The smile on Oliver’s face turned fond as he reciprocated the affection with a rub of his hand through the top of Star’s head, gripping the bow affixed in front of the Sylveon’s left ear between two fingers. A ribbon unconsciously wrapped around said hand in response, a pulse of love flowing between them. Oliver stole a glance at the clock on the wall–1600, almost done.

With great reluctance, Oliver pulled his hand away. A quick huff and a good natured glare from Star had him holding his hands up in defense.

“Not my choice! If you weren’t so sleepy, we could have been doing this well before we got the call!”

Another huff.

“At any rate, we should get going on this call. Nothing specific on this one.”

A serious expression overtook Oliver’s face as he said that, a similar one appearing on his partner’s. The Sylveon wore a sash with the letters “BERT” running across it in all caps, matching the symbol on Oliver’s badge.

BERT. Behavioral Emergency Response Team. A fancy way of saying “de-escalation squad” for the hospital. With the designations in place, they started toward the room number provided.

***

Oliver never thought himself a high level trainer, but he went on a few league season runs in Unova. He was one of the very lucky ones to stumble into meeting an Eevee that agreed to be his partner, several years before he went on his first journey at 14.

They became fast friends in those early years, doing anything they could together. It wasn’t until near the end of their second league season while battling Skyla for their 5th gym badge where, when hope for victory seemed lost, Star evolved into his Sylveon form. He quickly cleaned up Skyla’s rental Swanna with a well-placed Moonblast, earning them their 5th badge. They got little farther than that due to time constraints, but they were proud of what they accomplished.

Oliver and Star had discussed his evolutionary path years in advance. Oliver made it clear that he would support whatever Star decided about his own evolution. Star himself felt fine staying an Eevee as long as it made Oliver happy. Both were content with letting fate do what it may, evolution or no. Still, Oliver couldn’t help the overwhelming feeling of pride in his best friend, nor could he stop the giddy feelings that rose to the surface when he thought about what that particular evolution meant.

After retiring from running the league circuits, he ended up receiving an education in psychology with a focus on crisis management and mental health. Oliver not only found the topic interesting, but he also wanted to better understand emotion for the sake of his best friend.

Selfishly, he was also hoping he could find a field where they wouldn’t have to be separated.

Friends in healthcare helped him land a spot early in adulthood at a general teaching hospital that centered on human health in Mistralton City. The pay and hours were decent, and he got to work in a more centralized environment responding to crises instead of all over town. The primary draw was the clause that said any employee could have a Pokémon with sufficient skills as an aid in their work, as long as they completed the required training per their species’ protocol.

Both Oliver and Star passed with flying colors.

Now, a few years into their roles, they had developed a bit of a system. Other staff on the squad would attempt to de-escalate the situation with standard practice human-only techniques. If that did not work, then Star and Oliver would step in to assist. There was a general implicit feeling that humans did better long term when only humans were involved, but sometimes they needed extra support. That is where they came in. Oliver and Star, a sort of “last line of defense,” called upon when basic human de-escalation had failed.

When they started in this position, the Fairy-type’s presence made many folks nervous, causing quite a commotion as they moved around the hospital. Now the sight of them together brought reassuring smiles to those that knew them.

They wandered their way into a nursing station located on one of the floors in the hospital after a few minutes of travel. Plenty of people (busybodies, Oliver thought) milled about. As was customary in situations like this. They saw a security guard standing at the entrance of one of the patient’s rooms, along with one of the charge nurses, and approached them.

“What’s the short summary?” Oliver asked, flashing his badge for identification with Star dutifully at his side, ribbon lacing around his wrist and sending a feeling of reassurance his way.

The nurse gave them a once over and flashed a smile in recognition.

“Star Squad back at it, eh?” she directed more at the Sylveon than the human, knowingly. “Well, we got Rose Woolridge, a 74-year-old female with some mild cognitive impairment at baseline admitted for urosepsis, hospital day #2. Fever and vital signs improved, but now having more episodes of altered mental status and sundowning, concerns for delirium. Today, it elevated to striking an RN, throwing things randomly, and trying to run out of her room. Not redirectable to conventional methods, Posey bed or haloperidol available if needed. Good luck, and thanks for your help.”

A grimace came over Oliver’s face and a sensation of disgust came in a rush from Star at the mention of a Posey bed. Horribly dehumanizing things. Sometimes, like with medications, it was necessary. Oliver understood that, but he and Star made it a mission to prevent any unnecessary outcomes like that.

“Sounds good, Mary,” he said to the charge nurse. He placed the hand currently grasped by a ribbon on top of Star’s head. He bent down by the Sylveon’s side and faced the patient’s room.

“You ready, partner?”

A rush of confidence, and then, softly, “Yes, love.”

Surprise colored his features as he tried to catch Star’s eyes, but the Sylveon had already moved toward the room, dragging him in after. That was odd. The act of using telepathy with his innate Fairy powers put a lot more strain on Star than just the sharing of emotions and feelings, along with the nonverbal cues they normally used for communication. Oliver wondered at that, but then focused up.

They had a job to do.

Upon entering the room, it was indeed quite a mess, with a security guard present and talking quietly to Rose, who insisted on leaving. They both took the initiative and stepped forward.

“Hi, Mrs. Woolridge. My name is Oliver, and this here is Star.”

He introduced himself and Star with a low, soft voice, non-threatening. He sat himself by the bed, Star by his side, a ribbon firmly clutching a limb without release.

“I want to leave,” she said, looking up at him in frustration. “These assholes won’t let me leave. They’re holding me here hostage, dammit!”

“Why do you want to leave, ma’am?” he asked, calm as ever.

“I don’t belong here. I belong at home. I want to go home!” With a burst of energy, she tried to jump out of the bed, but the security guard gently held her in place to prevent her from injuring herself in her weakened state. No physical restraints applied yet. No extra drugs yet. Thankfully.

“Star, you ready?” he whispered to his companion. A subtle nod and flow of support through their touch is what he got in response.

A ribbon slowly stretched from Star as Oliver continued trying to make eye contact with Rose, providing a reassuring smile. As the ribbon connected with Rose’s leg, Oliver grasped the ribbon Star kept around his wrist in his hand, projecting an air of calm collectedness.

Studies of Sylveon and their abilities, notably when it came to calming agitation and preventing fights, were rare. Theory suggested in the past that this power could conceivably provide medical benefit. However, the barrier facing volunteers for such a study was plain–his Fairy type. There was a distinct lack of trust in the medical community and the general community at large with Fairy types. The alien-nature of how they viewed the world, and by extension those around them, unnerved most humans.

Sylveon as a species deserved more respect, Oliver thought. A Pokémon that evolved for the love of another human? How could they not have the best of intentions?

The limited evidence available suggested that there were no significant long-term consequences of contact with a Sylveon after they used their calming aura on a patient. Compared to physical restraints or medications like haloperidol or olanzapine, they had shorter hospital stays, less physical injuries, and reported better well-being.

Oliver thought his contribution was non-existent in this exercise of a Sylveon’s power. Star would vehemently disagree. Whenever Oliver suggested they separate a few times so others would acknowledge the good Star did, the Sylveon refused. Many folks would thank Oliver for his time and for what he did, and it irked him immensely.

Still, Star desired his contact, even after discussing the aforementioned disrespect. He never elaborated on reasons, only the importance of Oliver’s role.

So Oliver held firm, trying to send a pulse of love through the ribbon he held, willing his partner to feel how much he trusted in him.

So focused on this task, Oliver did not notice the patient slowly but surely calm in bed, fighting less against the hold the security guard had on her. Through their connection, Oliver could faintly feel the telltale signs of relaxation overtake a stressed mind. Any amount of detail escaped him, however. The connection did not provide that much information on his end. The stress in the air dropped as Rose descended into a peaceful slumber at Star’s ministrations.

Upon exiting the room, the support staff sent another collection of thanks their way, while a family member eyed Star with no small amount of suspicion off to the side. Oliver ignored them and focused on propping up Star, as was his way.

Oliver did not fail to see the distant look on Star’s face when they exited the room, nor how it kept firm even after leaving the floor back to their call room.

He wouldn’t push now–their shift was almost over.

The feeling that something was off had happened with more frequency recently. Oliver felt it was his duty, as Star’s partner, to get to the bottom of this.

***

They finally found their way back home after a meal out at one of their favorite restaurants. It was a more muted affair between the two than usual. Oliver could tell the job with the older woman had affected Star more than the stubborn Sylveon would admit.

Star flicked the lights on in their living room as they made their way to their favorite spot on the couch. Oliver settled down, pulling the blanket splayed out haphazardly over the lower part of his body as Star jumped up and burrowed into a spot on his side. Oliver’s hand stretched out to give skritches–a ribbon wrapped around the wrist multiple times, as if trying to ensure its hold on its prize.

A few minutes passed in comfortable silence as Oliver tried to work up the courage and energy for a conversation that was long overdue.

“I love you. You know that, right?”

A pulse of love flowed through the ribbon, leading to a smile breaking out on his face, but he continued on.

“You can tell me anything, Star. I want to hear about what troubles you. I want to help you feel better and be better. Please confide in me when you need to.”

Star, who rested his head on Oliver’s lap in quiet contemplation, suddenly sat up. He adjusted himself so he sat face-to-face with Oliver, eyes focused and alert. Another ribbon moved to rest gently against Oliver’s forehead.

A different sensation hit Oliver–hesitation, then swiftly a strong undercurrent of resolve. Star continued to look into his eyes, a wan smile appearing on the Sylveon’s face. Star leaned further in, bumping his forehead with Oliver’s, with eyes closed and a smile still in place.

“Words…help,” a soft voice echoed in Oliver’s head. A deluge of emotions piled in after them. Frustration at himself. Fear of what the future may bring them. Joy at the life he had with his love. Sadness at disappointing the self-same love. Confusion at his own feelings, jumbled as they were.

“Combination…to assist. Want…clarity.”

Arceus, he loved that voice. Many people thought Fairy Pokémon gave off uncomfortable vibes, especially in any form of telepathic communication. Oliver never found anything but comfort and safety in their bond or in the words that echoed in his mind.

“I’m listening, Star. With everything I have.”

Oliver narrowed his focus and tried to muster as much support as he could the Pokémon’s way.

“So, the last several weeks you have been…far away, after a few jobs.”

He repeated his thoughts from before, mind flashing to the old woman they helped early today, then to some of the other patients involved in prior episodes.

Foreheads never separated as Oliver again felt a rush of contradictory emotion, a rational irrationality. So very human, and yet, not. How could people not see or feel this? Embarrassment was at the forefront now, a small grimace appearing on Star’s face before switching to a more neutral expression.

“Nothing…you did. You’re wonderful.”

A weight fell off Oliver’s shoulders.

“I…am weak.”

And lo, there it was again.

The words came out with that same embarrassed tinge, a hint of self-directed anger as well. There were a few other emotions in play, but one that stuck out was fear. A fear involving him. Again, contradictory feelings played a role. Didn’t Star just say how he found Oliver wonderful?

“I’m sorry to push you, Star, but can you elaborate on that? You’re stronger than anyone I know, and I’m not talking about your moves that can take down gym leaders, even years after we retired.”

He said the last line with humor coloring his words, and he felt a pulse of pride at the words coming from the Sylveon, but then as the rest of the words mulled over, a stronger sense of melancholy overrode most other emotions.

“I am weak…I do not want…to lose…you!”

Images of several people filled Oliver’s head; the old woman from earlier that day, an old man suffering from Alzheimer’s a few days before, a younger patient suffering from uncontrolled schizophrenia a week back. On and on the list went. With the images came this great fear of…madness, perhaps? That was the feeling Oliver got from Star.

He pushed into it to better understand. Not madness, no. It was a look into the mind, the minds of humans. Star grounded himself with Oliver to best treat the patients, so he kept comparing them. And in the comparison, Oliver saw it.

Chaos. From delirium to dementia to other illnesses, the chaos of a human mind dealing with sickness was clear.

Oh.

The studies he read focused on the effects related to the patients being treated by Fairy types, specifically Sylveon. They never touched on the effects such a connection had on the Sylveon.

“Oh, Starlight…” Oliver let out in a gasping breath, and reached both arms out to draw his partner even closer, bodies together in a tight embrace. Tears present on both their faces, where they lived in the moment, finding comfort in each other. Oliver felt Star touch his mind, recognizing him.

They didn’t separate before Oliver spoke again.

“I should have known. I was so excited to have you with me, to continue being partners. I didn’t truly examine what it is I was asking of you. Can you forgive me, Star?”

Star, who had been pushing into the embrace with fondness, suddenly reeled back and out of Oliver’s arms. Anger and hurt, not all of it directed at Oliver, flowed between them. Oliver opened his eyes to see a glaring Sylveon, who, with one of his other ribbons not currently holding onto the human in front of him, flicked him on the cheek.

“Ow,” Oliver said as he rubbed the spot. Star leaned in again, foreheads touching, where it was easiest to communicate with telepathy.

“Idiot…nothing to forgive. You’re just…good.”

Words stopped for a bit as sensations, images, and emotions conveyed at the speed of thought. Initial wariness quickly replaced with playful happiness at this new human friend he had made, who was quite small, indeed. The sense of adventure as they traveled together, doing whatever filled their fancy. The thrill of evolution for one he trusted above all else. The love he held on to, reciprocated and true. The image of it all, of everything they had built together, falling away one day. Suddenly or drawn out, it did not matter. The result was all the same.

Separated. Apart. Broken.

The embrace returned, and this time Oliver would not be a moron and let his words cause any more hurt. He thought over what he was going to say carefully and then powered through.

“Your love is more than anyone deserves, Star. I can only hope to give as much as I get, and you keep me honest on that, alright?”

He rubbed the Sylveon’s back while his forelegs hung over his shoulders on the edge of the couch in their embrace. He hoped the earnestness shone through in his words.

A swell of love and trust crashed into him, another goofy smile splitting his face before turning contemplative.

“I…cannot promise what will happen to my mind, Star. Humans, well, we don’t have that kind of power. Not yet, anyway,” he said slowly, gauging for any strong reactions. There was only silence, a feeling of patience, waiting for more words.

“I can promise you this–I will do everything I can to prevent that from happening. And I will have contingencies in place to make it as…comfortable as possible. I love you–of course I want what’s best for you! It’s just, wow, I just can’t lie and say everything will be fine, you know? But dammit, I want to! I want to so bad a-and I j-“

A ribbon, his fourth, swung around and gently fell on his lips, stopping his rambling.

“I…understand, love.”

A tinge of sadness, but with an undercurrent of contentment on releasing some of the feelings Star had been keeping locked inside.

“Do you want to keep doing what we’re doing?”

A firm nod against him was the response. The wave of feelings and emotions were more complex than that simple answer.

“Well, I’m glad we have this out in the open now,” he said, continuing to rub Star’s back in the embrace they held.

“I love you. Thank you so much for sharing this with me, Star. I cannot imagine how hard it was for you. Still, I think having someone else to talk to may be helpful for the both of us. You know, get an outside perspective and all that.”

Oliver said it as a statement, but the question hung there. He would not force Star to do anything.

There was hesitancy, a general distrust of other humans that were not him, a common trait in Sylveon. But with everything else in their connections, a love Oliver could never find absent in the flow of feelings that came from his partner.

“Ok…I trust you.”

And Oliver swore there was not a better feeling in the world.

----------------------------

Thanks for reading, hoping to create more in the future! If you have any questions, feel free to ask.

#pokemon #oc #sylveon #eevee #medical #drama #love #hurt/comfort #hospital #anthology #short story

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catt-marp · 6 months

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I’m cooking something on a story focused on Sylveon, and it’s making ME sad, so I’m excited to post it in a few days or sooner.

#pokemon

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catt-marp · 7 months

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Zoroark Story (Part of a Medical Anthology)

My grandmother had suffered from severe dementia for years. The disease had rapidly worsened over the last couple of months, so I went to visit her in her nursing home in Nacrene City. After the staff allowed me inside, I started walking toward her room when I heard a sound I never expected; the voice of my deceased grandfather. I rushed down the hall at that sound, thinking I must have imagined it. Turning the corner and walking up to the correct door, my brain caught up and remembered my grandma’s oldest partner.

Peeking around the corner slowly revealed an elderly man with a thin mop of gray hair standing at the bedside of an elderly woman wearing large circular glasses who rested peacefully; my grandfather and grandmother.

“Horace, you need to head out to the store and pick up all the things written down on the list, got it? We got that bake sale coming up, after all.”

She spoke with a strength I had not heard in ages.

“Of course, love. Is there anything else you need?” Horace asked in response. Spoken in a voice I had not heard in a decade.

“No, dear, but aren’t the flowers lovely today? Such brilliant shades of purple! We should have Jane over to see how well they’ve bloomed, don’t you think?”

There were flowers, an innumerable amount in the room, collected regularly from the countless lives this woman touched and set out by her loving family. Horace sat down in a chair at the far end of the room provided for visiting family members and placed his hand on hers.

“Yes, my dear, they are quite lovely. Let me sit with you for a bit and then I’ll head out for those groceries, okay?”

They both passed the time in companionable silence while I stood outside the door awkwardly, unsure if I should walk in or not. She stirred a few minutes later and turned to look at where my grandfather was sitting.

“Bridget? It’s been ages! How’ve you been, girl?”

Bridget was a lifelong friend of my grandmother and another person who, last I remembered, had been dead for decades. As if to scoff at that idea, my grandfather’s visage disappeared in a whirl of light, replaced with the body of a much younger woman. My grandmother did not seem surprised at all at this sudden change, only waiting for a response with a soft smile on her face.

“Oh, Millie, I’ve missed you too!” a light feminine voice said in response.

They continued for some time with idle chit-chat and gossip of neighbors no longer present. This included areas in town much further developed and changed than either of the two could have known.

The conversation dragged on for some time before another comfortable silence filled the air. The younger woman continued to sit at the bedside while the older woman seemed to doze off. A ways away from Bridget, standing just outside the doorway, I tried to focus on Bridget's face. I imagined a series of complex emotions playing across her face; fear, sadness, hope, joy, despair, comfort. I blinked my eyes, turned away for a second, and looked back. All I saw this time was love. Simply love.

My grandmother jolted a bit as a sleep jerk awakened her from her doze. She turned her head a bit to look around as if lost in her surroundings, unsure. But then her eyes lit up.

“Trixie, my dear! How’d you get out of your ball, my love?”

It was like a firework went off with how excited Bridget looked upon hearing that name. Not even a tenth of a second passed before light once again filled the room and where a woman once sat, a Zoroark now stood. The Zoroark bounced in the seat before settling down near the head of the bed, planting kisses on my grandmother’s forehead and cuddling up with her while being as gentle and caring as possible.

Trixie, of course it was Trixie. I knew the moment I saw my grandfather, but confirmation was still reassuring. The Zoroark was old, not as old as my grandmother, who started her journey later in life with her Zorua in her late 20s, but the age was showing. Her hairs were thin, with some of the black transitioning to a darker gray. Tricky though she may be, the fox was my grandmother’s oldest and closest partner. And here she was, doing what she did throughout her whole life, bringing love and joy to her best friend in the world.

My thoughts of their journey and the stories grandma told me played through my head when I noticed the fox looking up from the bed directly at me, finally picking up my scent a little better in her base form. The look was quizzical, but not all that surprised, before she spun back to my grandmother.

I stepped away from leaning in and sat in the hallway to wait, giving them their moment. It was rare, I heard, for my grandmother to recognize the fox nowadays. If only she knew. The pain was clear enough for the old fox.

She didn’t want to leave my grandmother’s side, but she was still a proficient battler who could support a Gym or a family member well. Initially, she had difficulty taking care of herself during the more severe episodes at the beginning of my grandmother’s worsening condition. My family worked out a deal with the nursing home that allowed her more frequent visits and allowances, given her gifts and abilities.

The noise of a clearing throat startled me out of my reverie and I glanced up to see a younger woman again. Not Bridget, though. Bridget had light brown hair and brown eyes and appeared in her twenties in the room. This woman had long black hair, teal colored eyes, and a bangle tied into her hair near the base of her head, with the rest flowing down past her hips. She appeared middle-aged and looked at me with friendly eyes, a set of bags under each.

She moved again when I noticed her and sat down on the ground next to me, turning to chat.

“How long have you been here, Samantha?” she asked naturally, the Zoroark’s human disguise a perfect replica she had used for decades.

“Only about 15 minutes; startled me a bit when I heard grandpa before I realized…” I trailed off feeling awkward. It wasn’t like Trixie was doing anything wrong. Well, maybe, I didn't know. Don't know how I would have reacted if I heard and saw myself in the room.

She seemed to pick up on my feelings, though, and heaved a sigh. “I’m sorry if I scared you, and I’m sorry if that upsets anyone else in the family. I understand how that can be frustrating to hear, only…” she said as she lifted her fist up and tightened it in front of her.

“I fought so hard for her, Sammy. She did the same for me, and we took care of each other for years. Thick and thin, humans like to say. That was us.”

She pounded her fist to her chest, as if in confirmation of that fact.

She paused for a second before she continued, “I noticed something off the past couple of years before some of her caretakers explained it to me. To lose the ability to know who you are…you humans have it rough. And so do I.”

She looked down at her fake human legs and sighed. I glanced at her face again and noticed moisture appearing at the edges of her eyes. Shock rocked through me. I had never seen Trixie cry before. I leaned into her and placed a hand on her leg in support.

Trixie jumped a bit, not expecting that physical support. She must get a lot less of it now with everything that happened. I felt her lean into me in response, and I saw a small smile on her face before it fell away.

“She deserves the world, Sammy. That and more. It isn’t fair that she has to lose it all yet still BE here. It doesn’t make any sense! Even with it explained to me over and over again, it makes me angry again and again,” she said, her frustration plain with the rise in volume of her words. “She did everything right and still– still , it came to this!”

Tears fell liberally from her face after those words escaped her mouth. I sat with her as long as she needed, a soul in need of love and comfort as much as my grandmother resting silently in her own room.

“I will continue to do what I must, Sammy. As much as my body allows, as much as can be accommodated. Millie deserves my support. And if she sees her grandpa or one of her old neighbors or a random mailman? I will be whoever she needs.”

She moved to stand up and supported me while I did the same. She looked at me, determination clear in her eyes.

“And when Millie sees Trixie, the Zoroark? I will bring the energy of a fox she remembers from our life together. And I will revel in it for as long as I still can. We both deserve that, don’t you think?”

She asked that last part with a smile on her face, the tears dried. I smiled as well. Who could resist, when you knew without any doubt your grandmother had her greatest protector and friend at her side in her time of need?

“Do you want to go see her now? I will support you in any way I can, and give you the time and space you deserve as well, Sammy,” she said.

I nodded in answer as she followed with a flash and transformed back into her natural Zoroark form. Ready to assist and support, as always. She could fill the role of anyone my grandmother needed, but I knew all my grandmother ever needed was the fox. As we walked into the room, I vowed to make sure Trixie had the same love and support from myself and my family that she gave to our family her entire life when her own time came. It was only right, after all.

#pokemon #oc #Zoroark #medical #dementia #caregiving

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catt-marp · 10 months

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Medical Anthology Part 1 - Meganium

Something I want to be posting more is some medical-related writings and how different Pokémon can assist with different medical issues and disabilities that may pop up with individuals. The important thing is to not “magic” the disability away, but more so make it so that they can continue to be self-actualized people just living their life and able to live with dignity.

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Midge rests with her four legs splayed on the blanket set out for her on the porch outside when she hears a crash coming from inside the house. Her eyes shoot open and look toward the entrance to the house, past the rocking seat her partner claimed earlier in the evening before going in for a snack.

Her partner, Ren, has needed some extra support lately for a problem that she cannot see.

She works her way into the house quickly, using the antenna on top of her head to track where in the house Ren is. Kitchen, okay. She remembers the sheet of paper pinned near the entryway with some large words written on it and grabs it with a vine on her way through.

As she enters the kitchen, she sees a host of pots and pans scattered on the ground near one of the countertops, and sitting in front of the refrigerator is Ren. She sees him huddled on the ground, sitting down with his legs out, hands on his head as he mutters to himself rocking back and forth. His body shakes as he’s tuned out to the world around him. He’s breathing quickly. Too quickly. Gasps replace silent breaths.

She moves carefully to his side and nudges his shoulder with her head.

No response, so she sets the piece of paper down in front of him. She lays down on the kitchen floor and tries to cuddle herself to one side of him as she makes sure the paper is the right side up. She starts to remove control over the fragrance from her flower, remembering how the woman in the white coat mentioned something about this at Ren’s last appointment. Midge knew instinctively she can calm aggressive feelings as a defensive mechanism for other Pokémon. Why not use this ability to protect and help those she cares most about?

As a soothing fragrance fills the air in the kitchen, she begins to hum at his side; a reminder that she is there. There for him. She snakes her head onto his lap and rests there, looking at him with concern and love. His whole body is tense as his eyes look straight through her. Worry floods through her as she hears his heart racing dangerously quick, reaching the peak of his attack.

Minutes pass and his breathing slows as Midge lays there with him. He picks up the piece of paper and looks it over, taking slow deep breaths. In for 5 seconds. Hold for 5 seconds. Out for 5 seconds. The paper remains in his hands, gripping it like a lifeline. Repeat. Repeat. She knows these attacks take time, with each moment that passes bringing Ren closer to safety. She will wait it out with him, as long as it takes.

******************************************************************************

“Hey there, girl. It’s still here, but I’m working through it,” he says as he lays a hand up on one of the petals of her central flower that works as a collar to cover her neck and shoulders. He points to a line on the paper she brought over for him, where it says ‘REMEMBER! IT WILL PASS! YOU ARE SAFE!’

She nuzzles her head into his belly and lets out a reassuring coo in response.

“Yeah, I know. You’re right there. You ground me. I keep saying this will pass; that I should just ‘get over’ these feelings.”

His breaths slow down, but the uncertainty remains.

“But it’s not just going to go away and leave me alone.”

He looks down at her and smiles; her heart soars at seeing it.

“You being here for me, it means more than you could know. Even before all this started happening, I felt lucky you were in my life, you know that?” He continues to sit there and breathe deeply, his frame no longer shaking. The far-away look of fear was now long gone from his eyes as he looked around the kitchen.

“I know that, Ren. I will always be at your side,” she thinks, pressing closer into his lap and curling more around him.

“Thank you, Midge,” he says, leaning down to rest his chin on top of her head. They sat there for a while longer, content in the company they had in each other.

#pokemon #meganium #medicine #fanfiction #oc #oc pokemon #anxiety #panic

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