`寻我，我不见

We're killing strangers so we don't kill the ones that we love;

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do you think leaf is attractive

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pssst leaf thinks youre attractive

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#miitomo

hi friends was just inclined to pop in to ask if there’s anyone on miitomo who would like to be ig friends? hmu and i’ll send you my twitter acct so we can link up!

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When you left, the picture changed; the same face in a different frame ||

[draconchamp]

Setting foot back into Kanto felt surreal, in a way.

Riley could recall little about his time in Rota. By the time he was able to store some form of memory, his scenery had changed from open skies and fields to traditional buildings and an eternal sense of autumn. He never really missed it, his young mind focused more on the exercises his father gave him in order to control the odd wisps of blue that danced on his skin. It felt warm and… alive, which quite frankly scared him initially. Once he understood what it was – aura, the essence of life found in all living beings – it became much easier to call upon it, as if it waited for him to accept it first.

Acceptance led to discovery. Training paves way to mastery and what a long path it is.

Keep reading

[redacte-blog]

Red is careful to stretch just a little before his run (despite doing this every morning knowing that his body was well-prepared to take the early exercise. Though his body still slumbered within the cocoon of last night’s rest, the movement was a welcome wake-up call to him of sorts, the predecessor of adding oil to an already smooth-running machine— the first step was always the most difficult, but most liberating. One could say mornings were a routine second-nature by now to the red-clad boy. Ever since he had returned from Mt Silver last fall, the silent champion had become a permanent fixture to the morning landscapes; a spot of crimson sports jacket complemented by a head of jet black — the occasional wave to bid his elderly neighbours a good day. Red had always held a soft spot for these unassuming folks. They, despite his disappearance for years on years, had continued to look out for him in askance both during his journey and after, like grandparents removed who still harrowed after their estranged grandchild. There was Mr. Miyagi and his wife, who was recently ill, and Mrs Moto who lived alone with few Skitty in her possession. The last house on the street belonged to another old foreign couple whose name he struggled to pronounce and of course, the Oak family, beside his own in the quaint town. Red exits on the north toward the Viridian Forest, an imminent feeling of a weight off his shoulders (knowing that all the people he should have / would have greeted this morning were already accounted for.) The forest would render some peace and tranquility for the rest of his run—

Qu i e t      apart from the few Metapod hissing in the trees; the rustle of Pidgey in the canopies. 

His path is muscle memory but the peace he had expected is short-lived. Again he is seized with a tightness that sits dully in his chest, the lingering of his earlier dream heavy on his mind once again. Pressing on the boy trues to outrun the negative feelings, willing himself to distract with anything. ( Oh look! Wild Pikachu! That Pidgey has caught a Caterpie. ) It does not work; somehow it does not go away (??)

Defeated he halts with hands on his knees and sweat clinging to the strands of his hair. The sudden slow causes his breath to catch and knits the oxygen uncomfortably in his lungs — D r e a m s e q u e n c e   deja vus. Forest/Light/Breathebreathe remember to b r e a t h e .

[windynebula]

You know what I want? Culture clashes between the pokemon regions.

Someone from Unova travels to Kanto/Johto wearing a t-shirt with a big R on the chest. They get dirty looks for it and have no idea what’s going on.

A Kalosian meets someone from Sinnoh and keeps standing too close to them. The Sinnoh native keeps stepping back uncomfortably, but the Kalosian keeps stepping closer.

Someone from Johto goes to Unova and ????EVERYTHING IS SO BIG=????

A Hoennian meets up with a Kalosian and the Kalosian goes for cheek kisses while the Hoennian goes for a gentle head butt.

[akiraita]

people from johto visiting sinnoh get pulled aside by police because they don’t know that keeping your pokemon outside its pokeball outside of amity square is illegal

trainers from kanto and johto wondering why the game corner doesn’t give out pokemon as prizes

kanto trainers expecting to be given a bunch of rocks for playing in the sinnoh safari zone and instead finding out that you’re supposed to throw mud at pokemon

“what the fuck are you doing” “i’m slathering honey all over this tree to attract wild pokemon to it” “why don’t you just fucking headbutt it you dumb shit” “e-excuse me what”

a lot of discourse on the proper way to plant berries (“just plant them in the ground it’s not difficult” “yes okay but have you heard of berry pots” “do you just plant them wherever? why would you do that just get your own berry orchard” “I CAN ONLY PLANT BERRIES IN MY DREAMS”)

kalos trainers getting really confused when they take their clefairy to kanto and it’s getting its ass handed to it by fighting-types

unova/kalos trainers getting really fucking sick of foreigners trying to eat their vanillite

[spitblaze]

Hoennites going to Sinnoh and not realizing how COLD it is and they’re freezing the whole time but everyone else is just sorta used to it

Conversely, Sinnohians going to Hoenn and not realizing how hot it is and they don’t have any warm-weather gear so they’re sweltering the whole time

Cyclists from Kanto Johto Hoenn and Sinnoh wondering where the hell Cycling Road is. Where is it.

A Hoennite bragging that someone from Rustboro city found out how to resurrect Pokemon, only to be shot down by a Kantoian who says that some guy on Cinnabar Island figured out how to do it YEARS ago

People from Unova and Hoenn coming to Kanto and Johto and getting really really frustrated because HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO MOVE THIS SNORLAX and thinking the locals are pulling their leg when they tell them to play the Pokeflute for it.

Johtoians having to patiently explain to foreigners that slowpoketails aren’t a delicacy, but are, in fact, VERY illegal.

People from most regions getting really intimidated by Goldenrod City and how weird and dirty some of the city is, but Unovans feel right at home.

[redacte-blog]

redacted — Red&Leaf

[leafdesu]

Why did things have to be filled with so much pain? So much regret? And sorrow?

She feels each shudder and tremble, every sob and clutch, rack through his frame – the little pieces of him breaking off bit by bit. Her fingers are already seeking his, lacing themselves between his fingertips while her other hand runs through his dark hair. Soft, soothing strokes. I will help to fix you. You are not broken. Flashbacks of their childhood and how they wordlessly sought one another came to her mind suddenly.

She wondered if it was because their child selves sought such fixings, the soothing feelings that they were not actually broken. That everything would be okay.

Leaf clings tightly to Red at that thought, tugging at his shirt and burying her face into his hair. Comfort, need, reassurance. She can almost hear the words resonating off of him. They echoed in her mind with every touch and screamed at her the moment he pulls her hands around him.

Tell me everything is going to be okay.

She wants to hear it too. Or perhaps it is something else she yearns to hear.

I will stay with you so don’t leave me yet.

Her grasp upon the young man tightens and she feels her heart clench in a way that makes her wince slightly. She senses the desperation surging through him, feels his grip upon her increase, his hands balling into fists against the fabric of her shirt. Leaf wraps her arms around Red.

You’re not broken.

“Red,” his name is uttered softly as she brings him closer to her. “This is not your fault…” she runs her fingers through his hair, “you’re a strong trainer, admirable and brave. You raised an amazing Pokemon, energetic and cheerful. A fighter, who will do all he can to be with you. Pikachu will be fine. He may be small, but he’s a powerful little mouse,” pulling slightly away from him, she gives him a small smile. “There is no way he would want to leave you. Not now…He loves you…” her voice trails off for a mere second.

I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.

The words have automatically become a mantra in her head. Reaching over, she brushes another tear of his away, “And how could he not? You’re one of the most wonderful people I know. You are his partner, his best friend. There is no way he would want to leave you behind like this.”

Leaning towards him, she places her forehead against his, her eyes capturing his, squeezing his hands with her own. “Everything will be okay, Red.”

Her words echo – almost too loudly. The faint beeps of the Electric Mouse’s emergency unit sounds in the background, as though responding to the two trainer’s conversation. Her gaze wanders to the enclosure, hoping with all her being that the words she had just spoken would be proven true.

An abrupt, sharp pain courses through her then. Her eyes lower to the ground as she allows her arms to wrap the young man in another embrace, burying her face into the crook of his neck.

Please, please, please.

She isn’t sure what exactly she is begging for.

For her words to make things right. For him to smile. For Pikachu to be fine.

Please, please, please. The one I love is in pain. Please, please, please.

[redacte-blog]

When Leaf’s words find him, Red resists the urge to rescind. She was always here, holding him in her hands when he was falling apart — whenever, wherever, even if he didn’t show it. There was something about them that just seemed to work like clockwork, a drift-compatibility that when one was down, the other would indefinitely know. As she continued to whispers such kind words by him — the contact of her skin reaffirming against his — he finds strength gathering behind the bruised knuckles of his hands — the pulsing of his blood to broken vessels akin to a rebuilt fortitude. This is not your fault, she says, and though he disagrees, Red nods. Admirable. Brave. What he saw was cowardice though, but fine; he takes it in and recites her words in his head like a mantra. He loves you. Wonderful. 

The human mind and spirit is a wonderful thing that can be convinced if one so believes in it. In spite of Leaf crumpling into the crook of his neck once again, the trainer finds it in him to be the strong one this time. They have always lauded him with being the strongest — the best — right? So why was it that when things finally mattered he could let the people (and pokémon) he loved down? Not only that, instead of picking himself up like a Champion should, he hid like a weakling. What about all his heroes? What would they think of him? What did she think of him now? Could he still possibly be the strength that she had seen in him and loved him for? (He knows now, that only love could lead people to such, anyway—)

His hands find her shoulders and offer a tentative squeeze. It’ll be alright. They trail to her chin and trace the length of her jaw, tilting the brunette up to look. I’m here. Look at me. Calloused fingers thumb the curvature of her cheeks and catch the last of her tears, — how it pained him to know that he was the cause of this bitterness. No more running, no more hiding. He makes this a promise to himself. Red helps them to their feet an brushes her hair into place gently, leading the way toward the machinery that had housed his companion. Each step had hurt like knives — the increasing loudness of the mechanical beeps deafening in contrast to the stark silence. Their footsteps, no matter how quiet, seemed to ricochet in accompaniment;  Red takes a breath, and places one hand on the glass containment where his yellow friend lay. His other hand holds laced with a girl he so loved, and reckoned, did not deserve— 

Letting go of her hand only to release the medical chamber, the room is filled with the hiss of machineric air pressure. For the moment he falters as the smoke clears, reaching for the creature and cradling it to his chest glassily. Be okay. Red leans, slipping, and kneels to the ground with the Pikachu in tow at Leaf’s feet —  “Get up. You can, do it, buddy. I need. You. To get up.”

[gourgeist]

Waking Red by 深呼吸

[mysweetpokemonworld-deactivated]

ただいマサラタウン！by ＼\ 橙二 /／

[gourgeist]

Red’s Revenge

[goldenwitchmami]

Kanto Gang

[gourgeist]

ポケモンVCプレイするの楽しみです by 2saKae5

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When you left, the picture changed; the same face in a different frame ||

Before him he could hardly see the road — only a taste of asphalt lays thick in the air he struggles to inhale; a burning that sits uncomfortably in his lungs. While he knows that there is no fire present (neither here, nor anywhere far away) since he would have seen it against the darkness, it had felt as though the flames resided inside his lungs, consuming him with a sickening suffocation unable to cleansed. Red is alone and groping in the dark, yet for no rhyme nor reason feels his knees buckle as though he tripped ( over air ?? ) but he does not feel the weight of his body when it hits the ground. All there is is a sudden lush sensation of tall grass that surpasses his lying height as he finds his back to the earth below, ( How? There was nothing . . . just before . . .)  and his eyes finding their way to the perfect moon that hangs in the sky above. ( Sky . . ? It . . .?? ) The confusion settles for scarcely a moment before a shadow obscures his view, and illuminated barely by the light, pulls him upwards from the ground. 

                                  “Are you alright, mister ? It’s alright it’s just . . a- . . a b-b-b . . . ”

Dream.   Sitting up squarely in his bed, Red realizes it was only just a dream. 

He was in his room with Pikachu; the clock beside his bed reading 7:01AM. It was familiar, yes — all familiar. No ... sudden appearances or disappearances of the world around him, no random glitch-in-the-matrixes. Pikachu finds its trainer’s hand and nuzzles beneath the warmth of his skin and all feels right. For now. Red pinches himself awake. 

Yet it arrests him for the rest of the day — the almost omen-ing figure he makes out to be a .. child, perhaps. She ( he? they? ) reminded him just a little of Leaf when they were children, but there was hardly an instance specific enough for Red to recall and affirm that the strange recurrence was a memory and not a presage of something forgotten. He thinks of her throughout breakfast, his hands absently offloading extra spoonfuls of sugar into typically darker coffee, grimacing when the saccharine drink burns his tongue and jerks, upsetting the toast his mother had set beside him in the process.

       “Bad sleep, Red?”  Bad sleep had barely cut it. Upon kissing his mother good morning and good bye before leaving the house, the dark-haired boy is almost afraid of inhaling the first hit of cool air that hits his face outside. Though after what seemed like an eternity of anxious anticipation, he releases his bated breath and is relieved to find that it is as clear as it should be unlike the chalky, smoking carbon of the early morning’s reverie. He stretches in preparation for his morning run; this ought to clear his head. 

[mysweetpokemonworld-deactivated]

少し早いですが　ポケモン20周年おめでとうございます！！これからもたくさん旅をしたい！by て゛  

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c y n o s u r e, u n s u r e | may

[sapphirewildfire-archive-deacti]

The brunette watched eagerly as to what sort of final appeal Red had in mind. Even though she had a small thought that he was more of a battle person, she thought he was brave for trying something new. Still, it was so weird how the original trainer left him the Pokemon. Were they unhappy? But from what she remembered in her previous competitions, they worked so well together.

Keep reading

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He’s forgotten about her request by the time the hushed whisper comes over the phone, beckoned by a muffled apology saying, I’m sorry, I would like Petrichor back. Though somehow the imminent departure of the Sawsbuck’s companionship made Red just a little upset — it was a bittersweet kind of taste in his heart and a tremble in his hands as he returned the pokémon after a final, affirmative pet. It was a relatively long flight ahead of him to Johto, where the trainer resided — allowing the silent trainer a down-time of unclouded emotion against a clear blue sky of fluffy white cirrus where he thinks to himself:, today was an experience indeed to have stood in front of a competitive stage. Though it was more or less exactly as he had expected, it had also somehow created a similar rush of adrenaline in him as battling did, a kind of unfamiliar magic in the way skin-deep beauty shone as much as inner beauty did. Perhaps all things were vanity, and whilst Red had never seen vanity as anything positive,  his view had expanded just a little bit more today. Indeed, the experience was liberating in a sense (whilst his Pidgeot made a quick dip in the air,), a free fall emulation of the weight off his shoulders thanks to the answering phone call. He finds a laugh that bubbles from the pits of relief and throws his hands freely to the sky.  Isn’t it funny how somewhere in Johto is a stranger who almost lost their most treasured companion, and somewhere else in Hoenn is a stranger-turned-new-friend who mills backstage after the curtain call? And the fact that both are people who await eagerly are linked just because they both watch and wait for airborne boy’s return — whether for favour, for friendship or anything else — fancy the way life works.  

[redacte-blog]

my hiatus is expiring today (so i have 3 days to post... right?? right??) but.  I’M considering picking up green instead. 

any opinions?

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HI I AM EEV AND WYNNE IS BACK I AM IN LOVE

-

[redacte-blog]

redacted — Red&Leaf

[leafdesu]

A cut, a stab, a slash, the rush of blood. Her words seem to pierce him. Her actions adding the salt within each puncture created. She wishes they didn’t, truly she does. And she is not fully comprehending the scenario around her, fading in from black and back again. Her own thoughts and emotions are spiraling around her, overwhelming her and nauseating her. There is that urge to escape, to turn on her heel and run away from all this pain.

As she watches his stoic expression crumble before her eyes, the urge to escape intensifies.

What do you do when the one that makes you smile, is the one that causes all the pain?

The inquiry lingers in the air, in her thoughts, in her heart and she gropes for an answer but is unable to find it. She almost laughs at the desperation of it all, or is that just another trigger of her depression surfacing again. What was wrong with her? He is crying, he is in pain and here she is, unable to do nothing about it.

What kind of friend was she? What kind of lover?

She was failing him. She did fail him.

Keep reading

Read More Now!

Read More Now! Read More Now!

[redacte-blog]

The absurdity of the situation was such as this : a blame game, except instead of pointing fingers at each other, the two were turning the gun of guilt to their own heads. Here he was, berating himself for his selfishness, and she, in her own way was accepting the blame that wasn’t hers to begin with. He doesn’t flinch from her touch, but accepts the way that it burns against his skin as her fingertips steal the dampness of his eyes, the caress of his cheekbone searing like holy water against a demonic exorcising. Red wants to find the strength to take Leaf’s caring hands and to straighten them into abuse against his countenance — strike me.  Oh kindly, how it h u r t s. 

Yet against the punishment he would impose on himself, Red pushes himself into her cradling arms, folding into her frame, sobbing and broken like a supernova collapsing into a black hole. There is disgusting comfort to be next to Leaf, within the rise and fall of her chest against the nape of his neck and his back that Red doesn’t feel he deserves. The contrast between seeking redemption and judgement marred into a blurry mess. (A fucking goddamned mess, really.) Behind him he hears the machines as they continued the (weak) but even beat — his tiny flicker of hope within what felt like an abyssal darkness.  

He wants her to tell him it will be okay; and desperation forces him to pull her hands around his frame —pathetic in all his fallen glory. (I am only a man.) Red didn’t care even if she had to lie through her teeth; convince me, he thinks, balling the fabric of the girl’s shirt into crumpled fists — tell me it’s going to be fucking fine.  It is a joke. A sickening joke at the heart of it all. 

Everything was a practical joke, and he was the biggest fool of all.