hi everyone! i'll be doing pkmn trainer reader insert fanfiction on this blog. i wanted to share my love for the characters and am excited to "grant wishes" to readers. as well as practice writing!
heads up before sending in an ask:
reader is in almost every case gender neutral, so anyone can enjoy the stories regardless of identity! if pronouns are ever mandatory in dialogue, i will resort to "they", "them" and "theirs"
if a requested story is NSFW, i will avoid using any words describing the reader's anatomy
following up, all NSFW stories will be tagged and featured under a cut
stories don't have to be romantic/sexual in nature at all
if the material contains anything that could be triggering or upsetting to some readers, i will tag and warn accordingly
i can do both scenario bullet points as well as clean paragraphed writing, so please specify what you're looking for. keep in mind that the latter will take time. also, do try to include prompts for either if you have ideas, though it's not required of course
i base character personalities on the games, not the anime (unless it's an anime exclusive character. as a non-watcher, i will still try my best to learn what they're like!)
please be respectful and enjoy yourselves! this is a safe space <3
aaa i have to thank everyone for the nice comments! i've gotten many great requests too, but i have to apologize as i have tests to hardcore study for now, so i'll be writing very slowly and only when i find time to.
It wasn't a new occurrence to hear people make fun of your colleagues and subordinates, as the Chief of the Department. The mindless gossip never disturbed you, knowing well how draining and monotonous the daily assignments of everyone's jobs were first hand. Never had you gone out of your way to participate nor break their fun, deeming it an unnecessary activity for yourself. If anything, it seemed to have had a stress relieving effect on the employees, so you thought: as long as it stays harmless, you wouldn't intervene or react.
Except for that very day, apparently. One name made your ears clatter like a passing truck, your eyebrows furrowing until your forehead hurt. "Larry".
The energy with which it was said was undeniably scornful, jeering, an urge to crush the knees of and crack open the skull to whomever had started it steadily arising within you.
Your eyes scanned the area where Larry was usually seated. Almost hidden behind stacks of papers and binders was his head laid upon the desk top, fast asleep, one rarity that struck you as entirely odd.
Larry was a hard, responsible worker. He didn't quite enjoy his position, maybe even less so than others, having heard him mutter complaints under his breath and sigh miserably every so often. He wasn't violent or ungrateful whenever those would slip, nor were they aimed at anyone besides himself to hear. 'So unfortunate, I'm really so unfortunate', you've caught him murmuring. You'd glanced at him to see if you could assist him, hear him out at least, yet the chance didn't seem to have existed after all. He'd already begun doing paperwork, an aura of inaccessibility and distance constructed all around his work desk. As per usual.
"Larry?", you put a hand on his shoulder, gently rocking him back into consciousness.
He hummed in a low, tired tone, not exactly realizing who was speaking to him, why, or where he was at the moment.
"Are you alright?", your palm pressed against his forehead gently, checking for a fever.
That seemed to have woken him up immediately, as he quivered and jerked away from you, catching your wrist.
His eyes widened ever so slightly in surprise and embarrassment:
"Chief… Excuse me. This must be bothersome", he averted his eyes to the crushed up documents whose lettering was a little faded, the handwritten notes at some spots barely legible.
"No", you shook your head reassuringly, covering up the preceding exasperation exceptionally well, "You need a break, pronto. Come with me", you tugged the wrist in his grasp gently to guide him up, which he released right away, saying another apology.
You smiled at his caution and care. There weren't many instances of you two communicating before, however, from what you've gathered so far, he was often grouchy on the surface, but in reality a really sweet man who just needed someone to look after him when it gets especially tough. You wondered if he had anyone like that; a close friend, a lover, a spouse perhaps.
Despite the curiosity, you forcefully disregarded the thought. Your personal crushes should lay low after all. That's what you've always been telling yourself, in fear that your professional demeanor would falter, that you'd lose the little authority you held at this part of the building. Yet you didn't manage to hold your enthusiasm in check that afternoon. And how could you? It was that perfect of a chance to make acquaintances, let Larry know you were available to communicate with on a less formal basis, emphasize on your presence in his everyday office life.
"I'll be back to work, I apologize. It was a shameful moment of weakness."
What was actually shameful was the way your thoughts would focus on him at all the wrong times in a variety of equally wrong ways. Sometimes him being unsociable and too lost in his tiredness to notice the existence of those anomalies was desirable.
"And you risk it happening again. Come on. Have coffee with me at least", the way he still didn't look convinced that he should be taking care of himself more made you change your stance, "Just for a little while. This can wait. Your health cannot. Don't make me turn it into an order."
"Chief-"
"The big bad boss won't hear about this", you played that one off as a bit of a joke, ensuring it would be understood as such by sealing it with a wink.
Larry cleared his throat and stood up with a groan, some joints even letting out a crack. You could tell he secretly longed for leaving that chair, maybe even quitting work for that day altogether. Frankly, you'd happily join him if that were possible, as monitoring, check-ups, paperwork and phone calls weren't fun for you either.
"Mind telling me what happened? In secret, of course", you struck up conversation as you two were making your way towards a nearby coffee vending machine.
His eyes were on the verge of closing, taking him a considerable amount of time to come up with an acceptable explanation:
"Trouble sleeping, I guess. That's all there is to it."
You crouched while waiting for your drinks to brew. Looking him up and down, his undesirable posture standing out the most, a worried 'I see' crossed your lips. You considered asking whether you could give the man a hug, a pat on the back, a few meaningful, reassuring words you'd sprinkle in, hoping they'd get to him, enough to soften him up. You hated seeing him so down in the dumps all the time; a depressing sight, really. Nobody deserved to feel like that, passion and commitment to excellence and improvement destroyed, squashed down and shattered, leaving behind an empty husk, an individual who might've been an accomplished young man in the past.
Hoping to see him smile, you sent the best one of your own his way while handing him a steaming paper cup, the scent of coffee tickling your nose.
It wasn't returned.
"Can I help you somehow, Larry? Please tell me if you need to talk about it, I promise to at least hear you out."
To that he didn't respond. You tried again.
"If you have any doubts about being a burden, clear them up right away. Let's go sit outside on the balcony. There are benches there; not too uncomfortable, if I may say so."
"Alright, if you so insist. I don't have anything to say, however."
"That's alright. We can just relax", you paused for a second, having just remembered a little something about him. Larry really liked food. "Would you… want half of my sandwich? It's not too big, and I don't know about the quality, but I'd-", he cut you off, putting his hand up, not needing an excuse of any kind.
You made eye contact with him again, his bushy eyebrows just barely raising for the first time that day. He almost looked excited. In a very Larry way.
Your heart fluttered for a moment. You swallowed a lump in your throat.
"Thank you."
You tilted your head gently. In case that was an agreement, you couldn't have been more joyful. Fortunately, he noticed your puzzled expression and curtly nodded.
You desperately needed to control every atom in your body not to approach and tightly embrace him. Your arms were a bit faster though, raising themselves half way before you caught yourself, lowered them and turned around to make your way towards the door leading to the outside lounge.
You wished he'd grab you by the shoulder, stop you, like in romance movies, having cleverly read your intentions, and hold you close for a while, share body heat and ardent emotion.
But, no, that's Larry, actually. Just Larry. Your most 'unfortunate' instance of puppy love yet. And you should expect nothing.
Then you did a double take when he surpassed you and held the door for you. You blinked, mouth half open. Larry didn't seem to think much of it, gaze focused on the coffee he was delicately swirling around in his cup.
He positioned his foot to stop it from closing, running the now free hand through his hair. He looked at your figure frozen in place, then motioned for you to come through.
"I'm sorry, I zoned out for a second", you tried covering up your flustered poise with a cough, "Thank you kindly."
When you got out of sight, your hand flew to your mouth, locking away a squeal. You couldn't fathom how the most basic of gestures sent your tummy in a state of ache, wings of those persistent butterflies grazing your insides.
"Chief", Larry called out in a monotonous volume, "If I'm being impolite, I apologize in advance, but in all honesty you seem of worse state of mind than myself at the moment."
The length of his sentence made you look over your shoulder. He suddenly wasn't so far away from you, and you didn't know how to respond, surprise and shock winning you over.
"Mm, I might just…"
He pointed at the bench, implying you should continue there, ingeniously passing you the spotlight, something you didn't plan on having. Did he do that often? You doubted so. How many people converse with him on a weekly basis anyways?
'Just some average nobody', you've overheard the employees today, 'He's kind of weird, in my opinion. Does he creep you out a bit, or is it just me?'
Before you knew it, you were seated next to each other. Both hunched forward, leaning against your knees, sharing your lunch. Yet mostly in silence. You'd steal glances at Larry, him patiently chewing, perhaps savoring it. He hadn't looked at you once.
"What is it?", he asked after a few minutes, taking a
small sip.
"Huh?"
"You seem like you want to say something."
So he's been paying attention.
"I've asked you before, though. However, I get now that you prefer not mentioning it."
"It's not just that, is it?"
"Now I myself am not sure whether I'd want to talk about that."
"And why not?"
"You might not be too thrilled to hear it", were you really brave enough to shoot your shot?
Rejection didn't sound desirable, but as things were going, it seemed like the most plausible scenario. You didn't know what to expect otherwise.
He sighed again:
"It's alright. Go for it, I suppose. What's the worst that can happen?"
"Look at you, reading my mind. Been wondering the same", you fiddled with your thumbs nervously.
Larry just shrugged.
You continued with a laugh:
"I know we don't know each other that well, but I'd really like to get to know you better, if that's alright with you."
"What?", his expression drastically changed from before, into a mix of astonishment and badly suppressed joy.
His chest rose and fell more dynamically while he was struggling to find convenient words. He started stuttering, not sure where and how to start answering.
You yourself were taken aback, relieved to see him so innocently vulnerable. Your heartbeat picked up its pace.
Darn it all.
Your hand enveloped his, giving it a firm squeeze in an attempt to snap him out of that nerve wracking state.
"It's alright! Sorry if I upset you too much, it wasn't intentional."
He blinked at you, his grip ever so slightly tightening as well.
Your other hand was shaking, which you weren't aware of, the tingling in your legs becoming too much to bear.
All of it stopped the moment he regained his composure, your small smile replaced by a grin so wide you thought your cheeks would hurt for the next few hours:
"D-Do you want to go have dinner with me after work…?", it wasn't an upbeat kind of voice, yet you had seen through it, confirming that he was just as eager.
"I would absolutely love that", then you proceeded to fantasize about sharing bites of your meal with him. Maybe seeing him smile just once.
He nodded, saying nothing else.
Well. Scratch that actually. Take it slow. He is just Larry after all.
It's a well known saying - there's a first time for everything. Everyone makes at least one fatal error in life. Yours just occurred to be an unfortunate acquaintanceship with a certain man, and as harmless as it may sound, had given you more trouble than one could ever expect.
Ghetsis Harmonia is his name. You took him as just another greedy sycophant, a fool that nobody would take seriously, a swindler chasing money and fame, a shameless politician proposing an irrational idea that would never come true. All of those could apply depending on what words he'd choose to feed you at a given moment. And nobody suspected a thing.
It was unusual; the way he spoke about what he seemingly believed, offering a different outlook on what the citizens of Unova understood as mundane. The worst of all, some people actually blindly believed his absurdities, proceeding to apply his philosophy to their day-to-day life.
Ghetsis was in another meeting with influential big shots in Castelia City, renting out an office in a building you happened to work at. It was on the top floor with a grandiose view of the horizon, facing the harbor. As an amateur, you could've only drawn one conclusion: he's a rich nitwit with a distaste for subtlety, already making himself intolerable in your eyes.
You were assigned to clean up after everyone leaves, even though that wasn't your job in the slightest. In short, nobody else in your district wanted to get their hands dirty, not even the janitor, so, of course, they all scurried off home leaving you no choice but to take the task upon yourself, ruining your mood altogether.
Already angry and impatient, you tapped your foot like a child, pacing back and forth near your work desk, occasionally leaning against it to check your Xtransceiver for any calls or messages to respond to in order to kill some more time.
After what felt like another painful hour, the sound of chairs being moved around as well as overlapping muffled voices signified the end of their discussion. People in expensive suits and new shoes started walking out and towards the exit, laughing, chatting and exchanging thoughts, all of which you paid no attention to. Not that you were being interesting to them either. You were just glad it was over, praying that they were at least as civilized as they looked, enough to not leave behind an outright mess.
"Lord Ghetsis?", a short, older man called out, his hand pressed against the door frame.
You could see the aforementioned Ghetsis Harmonia sorting through some papers with a content smirk on his face.
"Go ahead, Zinzolin. I'll be there shortly."
Zinzolin nodded, leaving without further question or complaint. His hasty footsteps echoed for a short time, your gaze darting towards his attire, it being far more sophisticated than what you've seen Team Plasma usually wear.
Just when your lips have finally folded up in an amused smile, it faded as fast as the hope in your eyes the moment they've accidentally locked with Ghetsis's. His gaze was cunning, sharp and cold, yet intrigued by your lonely presence.
"You've been idling there for a while, so may I ask what business you have at this time?", his way of speaking was a bit outlandish, yet exquisite and poetic, somehow resembling a forced formality, despite appearing pleasant.
"Cleaning up, unfortunately", you explained briefly, not in the mood for tying yourself up with the man whose looming intimidation managed to reach you abnormally fast.
"You poor thing. Those 'gentlemen' have made quite a ruckus around here. You wouldn't happen to want some company while tending to the office? I was hoping I'd be on my way by now, but alas, these contracts and other written matters won't read and sign themselves, I'm afraid."
You raised an eyebrow, asking for reassurance, wondering at the same time why he wouldn't leave that for when he arrives back.
"I can't stand much noise nor waiting for too long, if my guess about the question on your mind is correct. So go ahead, I don't mind. After all, who knows, maybe this encounter is meant to be", absolutely not.
Alarms were going off inside of your head, red flags raising themselves, yet there didn't seem to exist a polite way to kick him out. You ended up nodding in defeat and stepping in, only to be appalled at the sight of the dirty floor and full trash cans.
"You're an employee here?", his voice delayed your train of annoyed thoughts, and you looked over your shoulder at him, having been filling a large garbage bag with cans, plastic cups, used tissues and other such waste.
"Yes, why ask?", your tone came off as a little hostile, but Ghetsis paid it no mind.
"Curiosity. It's truly an unlucky occurrence you've found yourself in, I notice. May I assume you're an important member of the staff?", he flashed you a smile which you internally groaned at.
"You could say so", you growled under your breath, a creeping feeling of humiliation tickling your cheeks as they grew red in embarrassment.
"Would you care to have coffee with me afterwards? I'll notify my people to retire for the day, so I won't be in a hurry."
"I apologize, it's your reaction that brought me much amusement! A hard worker deserves some peace after a job well done, and I wouldn't want to abandon you."
You blinked at him, eyebrows furrowing in disbelief. Was he about to chat you up on some nonsense like he does with everyone else?
Surprisingly, the man let out a heartfelt laugh.
"Excuse me, not meaning to be rude, but why even pay attention to me at all?", you asked, having grabbed a mop to begin wiping footprints and stains of various beverages off the initially bright tiles.
"And why not? Shouldn't I have expressed interest in you? Did it come off as unpleasant or intrusive? If so, I'll withdraw and leave you to your own devices", he brought his hand up as a means of promise.
You sighed quietly and shook your head.
"No, it's alright. I was just bewildered, is all. I wouldn't have ever expected Ghetsis Harmonia to talk to me directly and personally like this."
"Pay it no mind. I'm just a person after all", he chuckled.
"Be it, then. I'll go brew us coffee, will be right back."
On your way you were wondering why you've even agreed to that. You felt him stare at you as you were exiting the office, which made you shiver afterwards. Surely, he had an ulterior motive. Was it in his nature to casually converse with regular people?
His redundant grinning was undeniably charming, as much as you were consciously trying to avoid discerning it. You acknowledged the likeliness of villainous intent. Nevertheless, you haven't been given adequate attention for quite some time, the realization of which made you press the back of your hand against your mouth, both in annoyance and silenced anticipation of what's to happen next.
Your wrists were trembling more than usual while carrying the coffee cups. To emphasize your anxiety or even fear, it was becoming increasingly tougher to swallow, your eyes darting from your feet to the corner you were supposed to turn in order to face the man once again.
To make matters worse, the moment you did, his stinging look fixated on you immediately, corners of his lips curling up in an inviting, mysterious, yet sly expression. His gloved hand had been slowly tracing circles on the table's surface up until then, after which his finger ended up sheepishly twirling a strand of his let down hair. He never broke eye contact.
"Here you go", you muttered, more as a formality, before sitting down on an empty seat next to him. You'd considered making the distance between the two of you wider for safety and comfort, but it really would've looked rude, so you gritted your teeth and abode your manners.
"Much appreciated", his soft snicker stroked your ears in a satisfying way. You had to gently bite the tip of your tongue in order to maintain a straight face.
"Not a problem at all."
It was embarrassing. He had never managed to make such an unwanted impression on you before. Of course, those weren't personal, real life encounters, though either way, was it possible to make that big of a difference? Always so extravagantly clothed, same as his followers, suggesting some kind of grotesque dress code. Even at that moment he was more or less a manifestation of a dark fantasy prince character, with a black cape draped over his right side, a matching eye patch and a contrasting pale complexion. Surely, one glance at him suggested that he possessed a twisted mind, but wouldn't it just be easier and kinder to trust his momentary selfless support and recognition of your tiredness and solitude?
"May I question the reason you're looking at me for so long, dear? Am I that worthy of your admiration?"
His words snapped you out of your thoughts, having you immediately avert your gaze, ending in a self directed eye roll.
"Didn't mean to", you replied in a dull tone, earning you an ardent laugh.
"You're simply delightful."
"What?"
Ghetsis shrugged, accepting your decision to reject the implied flirtatious compliment. He licked his lips, teeth just barely grazing them before speaking:
"And what would your name be?"
He had taken only half a step back, still fully intending to win you over as fast as possible, being aware of how little time he has in play. That thought crossed your mind, but it wouldn't linger.
"(Y/N). I didn't even realize I hadn't told you earlier."
"(Y/N)…" he hummed.
You shivered at the careful pronunciation, the way he was tasting the sound of it didn't bother you in the slightest.
He cleverly gave up on compliments, sensing they would repel you further. And you, you weren't stupid. He noticed your suspicion and cautiousness right away. To him it felt like he was trying to crack a code of sorts, a combination of words, phrases and gestures that would grant him that satisfying click in the end.
Forget about the men in suits who firmly believe they would finally get the key to power and wealth from him; you didn't have a goal like that in mind. He himself is supposed to give you a reason to stick around, make up a desire of yours from scratch. That's what made that game so fun.
Did he dare test his luck after all?
He put his hand over yours, completely ignoring the coffee in front of him, deeming it just a prop to accentuate his innocent, vulnerable visage. He had prepared a myriad of lies to recite to you, to hypnotize and entice you, ready to see where that would take you eventually.
"Do say more about yourself then. I'm itching to get to know you."
"Oh, is that so?", you chuckled, distracted by his touch, "I suppose I could, now that you've asked."
He caressed your fingers contently, almost as he would a cat. Another amiable grin spread across his handsome face, which you this time returned.
Now, he could only sit back and watch in anticipation, waiting for the exhilarating moment when you'd desperately start struggling.
"Why are you up this late?", your voice joined the persistent, echoing Kricketot cries that, even though distant, made the air feel all that much warmer.
Nimbasa City, weekday, well into the subdued hours. You'd believe that a summer night would feel fresh and freeing after a busy afternoon mainly consisting of headaches, yet the high temperatures were as rowdy as ever, even if they were only present as annoying Volbeat roaming free inside of your stomach.
You knew you'd find him here.
"Isn't it amazing?", N asked in that silky soft voice of his, the one he trusted you with when he opened his heart to you for the first time. Something that he kept on doing, firmly believing that you could understand. Besides, someone else before you managed, so why wouldn't you?
You made your way to the spot next to him, following his gaze that ended up being centered on the Ferris Wheel.
"If you think so, it probably is", you said through a smile, "Why do you like Ferris Wheels, N?"
He hummed, deep in thought, carefully picking out words that would encompass his thoughts best.
"Shape, functionality, overall architecture, purpose. They're such a clever entertainment idea. Riding it with a person whom you're close to, or simply one you want to strengthen your bond with is an occurrence that is very important to me. I want to share the things I enjoy with them", he turned his head to you, giving you a peaceful look, "Have you ever ridden this Ferris Wheel, (Y/N)?"
"Since it's couples only, I haven't, unfortunately", you locked gazes with him, admiring the way his tea green hair wavered in the breeze, "At least not recently, or that I have vivid memories of."
N fixed his hat:
"Would you like to go together on Friday evening?", he turned around and started making his way towards a nearby swing, motioning for you to follow him.
The gravel clicked under your shoes, wind tickling your ankles under the cuffed pants. N sat down on the swing, taking one of the cold, slightly rusty chains in his hand.
"Yes. I'd really like to. I feel like we have so much to talk about up there, aside from admiring the view. I suppose the location really matters when it comes to conversation."
"I think so as well. I'm glad we're on the same page", he tapped his lap gently, "Come, sit if you want. I don't want you standing alone there."
You were quite taken aback by the offer. You didn't know how to interpret it, but decided to go along with it and see how it plays out.
You were quiet for a few minutes, N gently swaying the two of you, feet firmly set on the ground so he could uphold your weight. He wasn't the strongest in that regard, but you didn't mind.
You set one of your arms around his shoulders for a bit of additional support, which made him beam another smile at you.
"You're very dear to me", he spoke, "That's why I'd like to show you what my world looks like, hoping that you'll become part of it eventually. However, I won't push myself onto you. That would be utterly distasteful. Especially after being my good friend for so long."
"Don't worry. I understood what you mean. Thank you, by the way. I feel a similar way", you looked away for a second, unable to withstand the tranquility on his face.
He trusted you with his heart and soul. He was comfortable, unafraid to reveal to you who he really is, and who he used to be, even if he wasn't the most selfless person back then. Him growing and maturing was vital, though. Change is inevitable, after all. It's only up to the person whether they'll accept it and move along. Fortunately, N did.
"Is it alright if I tell you something else as well?", his other arm enveloped your waist, something you couldn't turn a blind eye to.
A bit of red dusted your cheeks.
"Yeah, of course. Go ahead", you mustered up the courage to look him in the eyes again. He seemed so happy at that very moment, admiring every feature on your face, your touch and your presence.
"At first I thought that you reminded me a lot of someone I know. I was making parallels left and right, so much so that at one point I couldn't differentiate between the two of you. Now I understand how disrespectful that was. I was quite frankly stuck in the past. For the first time I had been shown acceptance, compassion and warmth, and I couldn't move on. Some people come and go and that's something I should always be aware of. That person is that person, and (Y/N) is (Y/N). Just because you share similar virtues doesn't mean your voice and spirit are one and the same. For that, I apologize."
"Oh, N… I'm not hurt by that at all. Quite the opposite, actually. I'm glad I give you that same sense of security that you deserve."
"It was a great learning experience either way. I've come to appreciate you more because of that realization. I in fact believe that I feel more towards you than just gratitude", he admitted, pulling you closer to him, "I truly hope that this same sentiment you give me is mutual."
"You couldn't possibly mean…"
He dropped his head low, the visor of his hat covering his eyes. He still had delight present in his bashful grin.
"Yeah. Sorry if that came straight at you all of a sudden", his tone turned slightly tinier, "Even if it's one sided, I hope that won't change anything."
N's heartfelt confession brought a few tears to your slightly tired eyes which you immediately blinked away. You put a hand on his cheek, ushering him to look up at you.
His eyebrows were furrowed sadly.
"I do think it's going to change a little bit though", you leaned in and gave him a peck on the lips, "For the better, of course."
His smile widened, spreading as far as it could go.
"Thank you", he said, his voice faltering for a moment, "I'm looking forward to it."
Milo x Reader?? No need to be romantic, just being peeps is enough but i don't complain :>
(Sfw ofc)
~Platonic! Milo X Reader~
Word Count: 1458
Content: SFW
-As It Always Was-
Milo couldn't exactly figure out why some people liked winter's weather. It was inconvenient, bothersome, cold, and worst of all, he couldn't tend to his outside plants!
That time of the year was usually most boring for him, not having much to do other than drink hot beverages, loaf around, work out indoors - it felt quite trapping, especially during snow storms.
He hated when he needed to go to the store, straight into the safety hazard parkour course with all its obstacles: slippery ice, snow death pits, splashy mud, blinding fog and heavy snowfall.
He groaned once again when he looked outside the window for the tenth time in a span of an hour. He didn't have an excuse not to go and buy some vegetables for lunch now that the wind stopped aggressively blowing. He scratched the back of his head with a sigh, proceeding to comb his peach hair with his fingers, which more often than not helped him focus and think.
Then it occurred to him, the best idea of all - if he's going to torture himself in the outside weather, then might as well take somebody with him to share the pain.
"(Y/N), my pretty flower, my clover patch, I need your help really urgently!", Milo exclaimed to you over the phone.
"Yes, Agent Bushy Boy? Over", you replied with a hand over your mouth.
You two loved being silly, even when rough times hit. In those cases it was far more important to be as goofy as possible in order to elevate each other's spirits.
"You shall go with me to the shop! I desperately need company…", he trailed off, faking a sad sniffle, "I wanted to find a reason not to go, but, alas, I'm hungry."
You hummed in response, trying to contain a laugh, however at one point it proved to be too much and you gave in, amusing him with an entire giggle fit.
"And what's in it for me pumpkin pie? Do I get to have a portion of your lunch as a reward for my hard work and dedication? In case you say yes, I will gladly prove my loyalty", you snickered, hitting your chest with your fist, acting out the role of a fantasy knight, even though Milo couldn't see any of it.
"Of course you do! I'll even brew you a cup of your favorite tea, you know, as per usual."
"Nuh uh, only if it's hot chocolate!"
"Alright, it's hot chocolate then, just please hurry up or I'm going to starve. I'm a big boy, you know?"
"Large, wide, very big!", you proclaimed, choosing to use a different funny voice for every individual word, "Yeah, alright, it might take me a bit to dress up, though."
"Same over here! Layers and layers, scarves, hats, gloves, boots, gah! I wish it was warm again", he complained with a sigh, putting a finger to his forehead.
"Let's not waste time then. I'll see you in a quarter?"
"Of course."
Milo fisted the air, basking in that small, barely significant victory. He never even doubted that you'd refuse, being his best friend ever since childhood. You grew up together so close, that even now as adults, your bond had only strengthened.
You were beyond happy, but not surprised, when he became a Gym Leader. It might not be the best position for him, since he tends to hold back a lot when it comes to weaker trainers, but he enjoys it regardless, and that's the only factor that matters.
Though if you were to challenge him to a battle, he would, without a doubt, go all out because he would never in a million years call you weak or unqualified.
Milo even urged you to attempt the Gym Challenge, which you did consider, and then set it aside as a possible future endeavor. You did have your own small business to run, and oftentimes you help Milo with the crops which is usually just an excuse to hang out in the shade afterwards, eat apples and chase each other with a water hose. Nothing ever really changed when it came to spending time together, even after so many years.
He was always there to hear you out and help however he could no matter what kind of problem you seemed to have. However, what he did differently was hugs. He gave the tightest, meatiest, most loving hugs in the world and nobody could top them. Sometimes the hugs would touch your heart so much that you'd start crying into one of his large biceps, and he'd let you without bringing up any questions. No, quite the opposite - he would just smile softly in serene silence and ruffle your hair.
"(Y/N)!", Milo called out, voice muffled by the thick green scarf wrapped around his neck and lower half of his face. He brought his arm up to wave at you from a distance, the jacket making it a bit tougher to move in, but at least he seemed warm.
That was until you approached closer and saw that he was trembling slightly, his teeth clicking, tip of his nose red.
"Oh, Milo... You really don't handle this well, do you?"
"I am frozen to my roots! We should definitely hurry up, or I won't even be able to carry the bags afterwards", he huffed, rubbing his palms together, building friction through his gloves.
"Hop, hop, hop, then!", you took his hand and began dragging him through snow piles.
On the way, Milo tried to be chatty. Keyword, tried to. You could barely understand him from all the shaking and disconnected strings of sounds that were coming out of his mouth as a substitute for a desperate plea to have his summer back.
You couldn't help but laugh at him, occasionally dusting off the accumulated snowflakes from his scarf, but more of those actually stuck to his eyelashes, making them sparkle when melting, giving him some kind of princely, sovereign appearance. He was adorable.
"Alright, what do we need?", you asked when you finally entered a nearby shop.
Milo took his precious time thawing out, putting a hand up as a sign to give him a minute. You tackled him into another hug, aiming to get his blood flowing.
"(Y-Y/N)!", he giggled, pretending to keep his distance.
"Carrots? Cucumbers? Tomatoes? Do tell."
"Potatoes too! Don't forget those, they're very important!"
"Oh? We're having fries?"
"Stew! You really need to eat healthier, for Pete's sake", he shook his head while examining said potatoes at the vegetable aisle.
"Fiiine, I guess the hot chocolate will make up for it!"
"You say that like I don't make good food."
"Oh, no, your dishes are truly amazing and you know it."
Milo would always cook for the both of you, inviting you over for breakfast and lunch fairly often, especially when he had something interesting in mind. You'd insist on helping him, but he'd usually turn you down, as your job was to be the critique and nothing more. Besides, he functioned better solo in that regard.
"You'll at least let me pay, right?", you shot a question his way at the cash register.
"I'll let you donate half, if you really must", he rolled his innocent green eyes at you.
"Sheesh, you're strict. Still babying me, hm?"
"That was always my duty!"
On the way back, you started reminiscing about the past a bit more. He was always a bit protective of you. That didn't bother you much, as you felt far safer, and it never crossed any boundaries, it was just that the feeling of being a bit of a bother would arise every once in a while.
Despite that, Milo would reassure you that he loved you so much that you would never be dead weight to him. It was his way of showing affection, so you either take it or leave it.
You'd only smile and shake your head at his re-emerging stubbornness. At the end of the day, you were actually glad that this side of him at least never changed, as much as he grew and matured in the meantime.
"Hey, you know...", you broke the silence while enjoying the hot chocolate he had recently finished making for you, "No matter what coffee shop I go to, this is still the best thing that had the opportunity to bless my taste buds."
Milo blew a raspberry, then tapped your back while passing by with a plate of food for you.
"I will try my best to believe you, because that remark makes me incredibly happy", he giggled, taking a seat across from you, "Tell me about your week. We have some catching up to do."
CW: mentions of blood and injuries. death is a primary motif.
Mentions of Past!Perfectworldshipping
Otherwise SFW
-Here Again-
Four broken fingers, three ribs, an arm, a leg, a foot. Numerous cuts and bruises, even a chipped tooth. Despite the pain, Lysandre was alive and breathing, all because of a few people's pleads. People he had betrayed, discarding their love as imperfect, tainted, dishonest and deceitful. And what was he like, standing in front of them, announcing his crime, if not just that?
He had been thinking for a while, wondering whether Xerneas's power changed him as a person as well. Would that be a good or a bad alteration considering that, in that case, he wouldn't have been the one to change himself?
Trying to recall the first memories after his awakening was a stronger ache than any of his physical injuries.
It was a sensation of your tears, falling atop of his cheeks like rain, mixing with the blood dripping down his face, staining your jeans. You were sitting down in the midst of the rubble, gravel and sand, just so you could have the head of your unfulfilled lover in your lap for a little while longer until the Professor calls the police. Lysandre had failed and got himself killed because of his own philosophies that led to terrible decisions.
Somebody important to the two of you was lost, leaving a gaping hole in your lives that you weren't sure was even worth filling up with grief due to what Lysandre had shown himself to be. Even after all of that, he was pitied enough to be given a second chance.
By Xerneas, no less.
In those moments, you were crying in-between all the trembling and sniffing, begging, pleading for him to wake up, not wanting to accept that he was dead just yet.
Augustine had his back turned to you, hand covering his eyes, too broken and hurt to even face him.
How could he, after all of your joined attempts to talk some sense into him, go through with it?
Some would call his embracing of death a heroic act, but to you it was simple treachery.
One of your hands caressed his messed up hair, the other holding his own, fingers tenderly locked, something you had wanted to do for so long, yet never could.
Few times have you tried confessing your feelings to him, your words getting stuck in your throat every time, immensely afraid that this man was going to reject you, find your admiration childish and the devotion you'd promise him not strong enough.
While rather intimidating to most, to you he was as charming as one can be, the simple sight of him tugging all of your heart strings at once. The way he had smiled at you when he first shook your hand left you in shambles. The next time it happened, you thought you'd combust, having fallen for Lysandre so hard that your entire thought process for the next few days was a blind game of mix and match.
It has to be infatuation, you tried to rationalize after having caught yourself getting distracted from work every ten minutes. But you couldn't help it, he had invited you to coffee mere hours before!
"I haven't seen someone be such a mess for Lysandre since the time I myself was like that!", Augustine exclaimed after hearing you out on your feelings, having sought advice.
"Why did you two break up anyway, Professor?"
"An eyebrow raiser for you, huh?", he laughed, "We had some different ideas and stopped getting along well, is all."
You weren't sure whether that was the whole story, but decided not to question much.
Lysandre's eyes always resonated with strong determination and ambition, something not many people are able to brag about. He didn't express his softer and friendlier side to just anyone, but he did eventually guide you into his small circle of friends, acknowledging mutual respect between you and Professor Sycamore.
Only then had you seen how full of ideas and enthusiasm he was, his gaze finally appearing trustworthy, reliable, honest.
You would melt at the smallest bits of attention he was giving you, but it never went anywhere past that, which made you slightly disappointed on the inside, but you figured it was an expected emotion to let thrive in that particular case.
Slowly but surely, Lysandre let his idyllic idea consume him to the point of madness, one of no return, where his vision was focused entirely on the mission he was "destined" to complete. All relationships he'd built became mere stepping stones, every word spoken by him was just another promise of his future success.
The vast field of life in his eyes drained away right in front of you that one day.
"Would you join Team Flare and help me achieve a perfect world? Together, we'd be an unstoppable force."
For the first time in his presence did you feel genuine terror. Your eyes widened and you could only whisper out one kind of response:
"You're insane."
His stare turned apathetic and hateful. He only nodded and kept quiet for a little while before changing the topic to something entirely trivial. Something you'd talk about with a stranger.
"I'm so sorry", you were whispering over and over again into his cheek, having bent down in misery, "Please wake up…"
Suddenly, you felt indescribably at ease. Your breathing became deep and clear, everything in sight appeared more vivid and somehow prettier. It was a serene state, something you haven't deemed a possible experience. You sat up straight.
"Professor?", you called out, but he was already fixated on a presence behind you, mouth slightly agape.
"Xerneas…", he gasped out.
You jerked your head backwards, eyes meeting with a blue snout that was gently being set atop of your own nose. It sensed your intense grief.
As surprised as you would've been, you didn't budge an inch. Bringer of life, they call it. Otherworldly.
Your eyes closed, heartbeat syncing with your mind, every muscle in your body simultaneously relaxing.
Xerneas knelt down beside Lysandre, appearing to be resting at first. However, on second glance, it seemed as if his chest was rising and falling, simulating breathing.
"N-no way… There's- There's no way-", your voice cracked back into sobs, pain strong enough to break the inner peace you were blessed with mere moments ago.
It was as if your soul left your body momentarily. Lysandre gasped for air, then started coughing as he had choked on some blood in his mouth.
Augustine yelled out something you didn't hear, nor could you, nor did you want to.
Lysandre was alive.
You basically screamed his name as your tired, weak arms desperately tried to embrace him with the last bits of your strength you mustered up.
You didn't want to move, and you couldn't speak, head buried into his neck, unable to physically be any closer.
Augustine had to forcefully pull you away from him when the ambulance arrived. He hugged you, in an attempt to comfort the both of you.
Marnie liked you a lot. Ever since you two had a fierce showdown with each other, she was astonished by your battling skills, so much so that she actually introduced you to her older brother when she caught him on the street in Spikemuth. 'A great trainer', she told him, which made you raise your shoulders in slight embarrassment.
Piers, on the other hand, seemed quite indifferent towards you. The first time you appeared in front of him, even after a partially energetic shower of Marnie's compliments, he simply cocked an eyebrow and smiled for himself, shaking his head accompanied by a click of the tongue.
You couldn't exactly figure out what the small smirk was for nor whether it indicated something good or bad. Most of the time in media, Piers looked tired overall and not very thrilled to hold all those tiring and monotonous conversations over and over. That was Raihan and Leon's job. If Piers himself is concerned, simply give him a stage, a microphone and an excited, loud audience, and he'll leave a lasting, truly unforgettable impression.
"Alright, I get it, she's eager for you to battle me. Bring it on, then!", he exclaimed, taking a more confident stance.
You weren't afraid of losing, it was just his aura of fame that held you back a considerable amount, enough to barely say anything in fear that you'd stutter.
Observing him a bit from afar in the midst of a heated battle, you let yourself get distracted enough by his sharp, determined gaze and the way he furrows his eyebrows, that you lost quicker than you otherwise would. He noticed, but didn't point it out verbally, just tilted his head to the side slightly, giving you a look you couldn't exactly decipher.
Whether it was disappointment, curiosity or something else, you couldn't tell, and it had been bothering you for a couple of days, fearing that you ended up being a foolish challenger.
To your surprise, your phone rang while you were sitting at a half empty café that evening, enjoying some treats and drinks with your partner Pokémon.
Marnie's name was shown on screen, and your pleasant mood was instantly enhanced.
"Hey, Marnie! What's up?", you smiled, adoring the fact you were somebody that a young trainer looked up to.
"Hey. It's Piers, actually", his contrasting deeper voice made you flinch for a moment, earning you a concerned look from one of your Pokémon, "Marnie can't stop talkin' about you, so I figured I might as well ask whether you're free", he sighed.
"Oh… That's, um, nice of you. Are you sure, though?"
"And why you askin'? Think I'm above you or somethin'? Chill out."
Marnie could be heard muttering something quietly in the background, amused by her brother's mild annoyance.
"Ah", you fumbled for words, fairly distracted by his low, husky tone, "Marnie isn't coming?"
Piers paused for a second, before catching on your bashfulness, earning you a chuckle:
"Right, I wasn't clear enough. I'm not callin' because of her, it's, would you believe, me who wants to get to know you."
Your face bloomed three shades of red. Being asked out by a musician you liked after meeting him once seemed unrealistic, like a joke even, and it made you wonder whether he was sincere or just rolling along with one of Marnie's antics.
However, she didn't seem like the type to pull those off at such random times, or at all, for that matter.
"Yeah, I was… curious about you too, now that we're saying this freely. I'm glad you've called", you smiled with an audible, giggly exhale, your hand shaking, spilling a little bit of coffee on the table, "Currently I'm at a cozy place in Hammerlocke, but if you'd rather-"
"Yeah, I know which one, be right there", he cut you off, then hung up quickly. That took you so off guard that you were left with your phone pressed to your tingling ear for at least another half a minute, until Impidimp tugged at your sleeve, promptly bringing you back to the present moment, the crinkling of glasses and hushed chatter.
Soon enough, he did show up, putting the key to his motorbike away in his jacket pocket. He flicked his head at you, as well as lazily putting his hand up in a greeting while strolling towards your table.
He sighed and sat down across from you, at first glance seemingly bothered by even being there. Despite that initial front, he actually appeared more or less relaxed, gaze darting left and right in admiration of the pleasant and vibrant surroundings.
"Cute fella", he initiated conversation, indulging Impidimp with a pet on the head which it enjoyed immensely.
"Thank you. I've caught him relatively recently, I think a bit over a month ago. He's been a great help, and an even better friend", you smiled, offering it a tea biscuit, then looked back at Piers who had just ordered a drink, "I'm surprised you wanted to meet up so fast."
"Busy for the rest of the week", he explained, propping his face up with his hand, "Couldn't miss the chance to ask why you haven't gone all out against me today. Missed opportunity to show off your skills to their full extent."
That was the question you feared would come up sooner or later, but not that early!
"I… was distracted", you admitted, steering away from elaborating by being upfront but vague.
"Tell me somethin' I don't know", luckily, he took the hint, "Next time watch out for that. Wouldn't want to be let down twice", he flicked his cup out of boredom, continuing to fidget with packets of sugar afterwards.
Piers blew some hair out of his face, not waiting nor expecting for the discussion to carry on from there. He sounded like he would bombard you with a myriad of questions after he'd arrive, so did he change his mind somewhere along the way?
You decided to shoot your shot:
"What's it like… being on the famous side? Does the attention bother you at all?"
"Only when journalists are too persistent. Other people are nicer about it than it may appear", he took a slow sip, appreciating the taste, hence losing the last bit of hostility on his face, some of which you might've even imagined.
"That's good! I'm actually glad you have space to breathe…"
"And you?"
"Hm?"
"Where did you come from?", he didn't put the edge of his cup away from his lips, gently blowing to cool down the tea, a little act you found absolutely sugary sweet adorable.
You put the back of your hand over your mouth diffidently, trying to politely lock gazes with him, but every time you'd try to, your eyes would sheepishly drop down to your lap.
"Nowhere special, really. An overly confident and ambitious trainer I'd say. I have been trying to think of ways to turn some of my hobbies into jobs, but I'm yet to make up a plan that holds up, so for now, I'm just doing whatever I come across", you explained, hoping he wasn't let down by your insignificant background.
"Tryin' your best is always good no matter the situation. I've been tellin' that to my little sis as well. Hope you'll stay a good role model for her. Well, really, you better", he snickered.
You smiled.
The following few minutes were mostly spent in somewhat awkward silence. Here and there you'd exchange a couple of words just so that it wouldn't be painfully obvious you were struggling.
Realization soon hit on a conscious level - you were crushing really hard.
"Wanna go for a ride?", Piers asked abruptly, derailing your train of thought.
His confidence charmed you enough for you to immediately blurt out an agreement.
You reached out for your wallet, but his raised hand stopped you.
"Don't worry about it", he added, "Save that for next time."
Next time? There will be a next time? Your flushed expression gave your bewilderment away, visible even under dim lighting.
Of course, Piers noted it, but this time flashed you a tired smirk as feedback.
"Anywhere you'd want to go?", your bubbly tone tickled his ears.
"Nah, aimless drivin' is more my thing."
He offered you his hand. That was one among many other gestures you weren't properly prepared for. If that man had a set goal in mind, that must've been making you explode. He was succeeding at a rapid pace, and there was nothing you could do about it other than accept the bliss you weren't able to hide anymore.
"Relax, all's g-", your fingers intertwined with his. If you're holding hands, might as well go all the way. "…Huh. Bold. I like that."
"Will you lead the way?"
"Now I have no other choice", he joked in a surprisingly flat tone, making you laugh in response. "Let's go, then. There's actually a place I'd like to show you. Marnie likes when I take her stargazing there. You'll have something interesting to tell her about tomorrow, assuming she'll be asleep when we come home tonight."
"We??", you exclaimed, a bit louder than you wanted to.
He motioned at your linked hands with his head:
"Did I assume wrong?"
Your mouth hung slightly open. Read like a good book.
Out of spite and dislike for being inferior in any way, Avery ran away from the thought that you were in any way, shape or form likable. Actually, he found your overly friendly behavior annoying and repulsive, or so he has been led to think by his own complexes.
Anybody else would've found you charming and fun to be around, having so much to say at any given moment, but not Avery. He had been furious every time you'd meet, hence just the thought of your smiling face made him red in the cheeks.
How does one, or rather, how does he, knowing you so briefly, have learned to hate every cell of your entire being, fiercely and passionately? That's why he needed to see you again. Prove his strength and overall dominance.
Yet again, Avery lay awake in bed thinking about you and all the ways he could show off his natural elegant glamour and make you like him more than you already do.
Scenarios were playing in his mind like an old film, you being impressed, utterly defeated by his strong drive to be Galar's own Psychic Gym Leader. The way you'd mouth a 'wow', clapping your hands and stating: 'Yeah, you're really cool, Avery! Now I see what you meant by your impactful words!' or… something like that.
That should be the winning formula.
He grinned and chuckled to himself, gripping the sheets close to his chin. A rival is always a rival. It's a cute concept, in a way.
Wait, no, not cute, I meant, uh, mighty! Yes, indeed, a mighty occurrence, something to be thoroughly cherished as an opportunity to outsmart and outwit your, quote, buddy. At least that's how Klara always is when he's involved.
Surprise, surprise, the next time he saw you, idling around in the Wild Area, you were chatting with her, giggling, having fun. Avery's fist clenched on instinct. Siding with another enemy force? You?? How ever could you?! You were supposed to be focused entirely on him and his dashing battle tactics, looks and charm!
He pushed his glasses up his nose and swallowed the lump in his tightened throat. He was super nervous, twirling a strand of his silky blond hair around his finger.
If he could figure out what you were thinking, if only he knew what your opinions on him were, what you liked, what your favorite places were… no, no no, he got sidetracked.
While tugging on his cravat, teeth nibbling on one of his nails, lost in ocean deep thought, you finally noticed his tall hat and waved at him.
His name being called so joyfully snapped him back to reality, gaze adjusting to your distant figure. Avery could barely make out a beaming smile on your face, but it was certainly present, the edges of his lips subconsciously tugging into a tiny smirk of his own.
Klara put a hand over her mouth, and laughed for a brief moment. She gave you a playful, friendly hit to the shoulder, briefly nodded at Avery and went her own way, probably to train up some more, ready to wipe the floor with him the next time they would meet. Or pretend to train. Avery was confused about her missing the opportunity to squabble with him, but what puzzled him more was the warmth in his chest when you suddenly appeared in front of him, outstretching your arms as an invitation to a hug.
That must've been a kind of frustration only the best of the best feel towards each other as trainers.
Actually, now that he'd though about it, did he ever announce your rivalry out loud? Did you even know?
He was looking into your eyes, admiring the brief but innocent sparkle.
He felt funny.
"You wanted to have a battle, right?", you asked, slowly linking your hands behind your back, seeing that he wasn't interested in an embrace, "That's why you're here, I assume?"
No, not only a battle. A battle with you. To prove that he is good enough. So that you would notice him and admire him.
Toying with one of his levitating Poké Balls in an attempt to distract himself from the flips his stomach was stubbornly performing, he opened his mouth slightly with the intention of replying, but nothing would come out.
He had nothing to say. Not even an arrogant remark. Only heavy silence pressing on his ears. He felt his heartbeat in his neck.
What kind of trick did you use?
Where did all of his strength go?
Your cheeks were slightly tinted pink, you were fiddling with your thumbs, patiently awaiting some kind of response.
He was forced to look away, palms getting a bit sweaty, his own face redder than yours, color present even on the tips of his ears.
Avery stepped forward awkwardly, shaky arms gently enveloping you. And oh did he regret not doing that earlier. He felt welcomed, accepted, finally seemed like he belonged.
"I am, i-indeed", he stuttered,
"And this time, (Y/N), I will try my absolute best", his grip on you briefly tightened.
"More than three percent of your strength now?", you chuckled, throwing your arms around his neck.
"All of it."
"If you lose, you're buying us lemonade later!"
Immediately, he agreed, but not without a forced complaint.
"Don't breathe in my ear, scoundrel!", he exclaimed, to which you started laughing, your chest pressed to his, him clearly feeling all the life in you. Somewhere along the way completely forgetting that he ever totally seriously and utterly sincerely hated you. Or something.
