sinnohelitefourlore

Back on my Pokemon shit again / Sammie / 24 / She/her. Sammieflute on Ao3

[sinnohelitefourlore]

The League Chronicles: Chapter 70- Epilogue

"We're going on a flight," Drayden told her, with sternness that someone liked Drake Wyvern had. "To Kanto. To meet with... certain people. Alder will come with us." Iris frowned deeply. She hoped that she didn't end up in a sour conversation with whoever these people were. The last thing Iris wanted was another tragedy. There didn't need to be a world of PTSD-ridden soldiers like Lt. Matis Surge. Nor did they need to suffer like Juan Dubois did. Those men had suffered enough at their ages. "Am I in trouble?" Iris asked, like she was a scared little girl and not a radical figure. Like she didn't cause damage that Giovanni Feliciano did a hundred times over. "Who is it?" Here, Drayden let out a grin. A Clay Wesley grin, when the man would give Iris a toy for her birthday. "It's a surprise."

-

Link: Archive of Our Own -

And… that's it. The League Chronicles is officially finished. 500k words… completed, in just under two years. I can't even comprehend the mere idea that there's no more updates for this story, that I am able to join the list of Pokemon fanfic authors that have actually completed a full story.

I cannot begin to express my gratitude toward my readers who have read all those words, who have watched my writing improve with each chapter. Looking back at my earlier chapters, they are not great at all lol and it makes me cringe, looking back, but I see that as a good thing. It shows that I have improved, I think. And I hope that I've created such a rich story for my readers regardless.

I have met so many friends throughout this story and I cannot thank them enough. First, I would like to thank people in the Pokemon Fanfiction Server. They're the ones that encouraged me to go through with this story when I thought no one would be interested in reading it. Second, I would like to thank everyone in The League Chronicles discord server for listening to my ramblings and ideas about what I could do moving forward.

So what am I doing, moving forward?

Well, we haven't gotten to Unova's crisis in BW, right? :)

So.

That's when Shauntal's autobiography comes in. It's not a sequel of TLC, per se, as it's her full story in the context of TLC, but it will go beyond when this story has stopped. So we will get the Team Plasma crisis once her story is released.

I am not done writing Pokemon at all, nowhere near finished. I have so many ideas in my head - most will be in the context of TLC, a few outside possibly. There will be one-shots coming around, but as for longfics, I will probably take a little break before I release the prologue of Shauntal's story (though it is already written).

If you want to keep up with more projects, here is the discord server link.

And once again, thank you, thank you, thank you.

[sinnohelitefourlore]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Summary:

Let's see what Steven's dealt with today. Ecoterrorists on the move, gym leaders heading toward mental breakdowns, a co-champion/boyfriend on the verge of relapsing, Kyogre and Groudon fighting it out on Sootopolis City and the fate of the region in an eleven-year-old's hands. Oh, and the League coffee machine was broken.

-

Or:

A timestamp piece set in Steven's POV of the Team Magma/Aqua weather crisis. A companion piece to The League Chronicles.

[sinnohelitefourlore]

Of Ink And Ash: Chapter 9- An Arrogant Case

Preview:

In my defense, I was lied to.

I watched as Crustle's claws scrapped against the floor and a rumble echoed throughout the field. A barrage of rocks tumbled down, straight toward Chandelure, and she was so thrown off by the change of plans that she had no time to dodge the super-effective attack. She staggered back, her embers dimming slightly, and barely managed to hold on. Chandelure fed off my energy. She knew that I was caught off-guard. I couldn't afford to make such a mistake again. I had to let her know it was okay. This was a test.

"This one's different," I told her. "We'll be fine. Disappear."

Chandelure phased out of the arena completely. Immediately Clarissa was on high alert, and so was that Crustle. I'm now realizing the issue of Clarissa's change of plans. Her Venomoth was very fast, but Crustle wasn't. This was new, even for Clarissa, and exploiting her lack of speed in an opening battle would help.

"Shell smash."

Oh?

- read on archive of our own here

[sinnohelitefourlore]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Preview:

Clay hadn't been kidding that Clarissa hated battling those under five badges. So much so that Clarissa had tried to argue with Alder many times about having Unovian challengers only coming to her when they had a certain badge level - and tried to instate this including Drayden, Clay, and Brycen. Since neither of three cared enough to consider further thought, Clarissa had no choice but to occasionally battle challengers that were under those badge levels. She was one of those people that openly admitted that she was on autopilot. She would give those trainers a challenge, but in reality, none of those challengers knocked her socks off so to speak.

At least I wouldn't have to deal with that attitude. I had gotten five badges, it was likely she knew I was coming, and would therefore be excited to battle me.

[sinnohelitefourlore]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Summary:

For a long time, I assumed life would be cruel to me: because of my autism, the stigma that came with it, my ability to speak with the dead, and parents who couldn't care for me, leaving me in my grandmother's hands. I knew I inherited my ghost whisperer gift from my mother and grandmother. But the writing? The Pokémon battling? Even I don't know where that came from. I believe I was born of ink and ash, caught between the two worlds of words I had written and battles I had partaken in.

Your story is yours alone. This one's mine. A best-selling author. And a member of Unova's Elite Four.

[sinnohelitefourlore]

i fear i have started writing a time stamp piece that shows Steven’s point of view of magma and aqua going down, the weather crisis all in the span of eight hours. It’ll feature every single gym leader lol

[sinnohelitefourlore]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Chapter 1/2: The Gala Summary:

Jasmine attends her first International League Gala Party. There are two main rules that is expected of her to follow.

1) Do not talk to the Sinnoh League members.

2) Do not take any illicit substances from anyone.

Not too long after, Jasmine is sitting on a couch with two Sinnoh league members, passing a joint as they chatted about their hometowns and their similarities.

Or:

How Jasmine accidentally became friends with the Sinnoh League.

Rated: T

[sinnohelitefourlore]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Preview:

There was a reason there weren't many people that were ghost-type specialists, and the league members that were ghost-type specialists had an edge in order to work with the typing. Phoebe was able to communicate with ghost Pokemon due to growing up on Mt. Pyre, Agatha of Indigo's elite four resided in Lavender Town for most of her young adult life, and Dalton could communicate with the dead - both ghost Pokemon and humans. Fantina Dumont of Sinnoh was an odd case, but she was working under the gym leader there when she wasn't coordinating, and she didn't talk much about her time in Kalos. She had suggested that she had spent a lot of time with ghost Pokemon as a child. And me? I wrote to them. They wrote back. It was about precision and control. Because if you lost control, it wasn't just the battle that would end, it would be you. It was why Gran was so careful when teaching me about ghost Pokemon. Not many people knew this, but she could've been an excellent Pokemon trainer. So could have gone far into the league, maybe achieved league member status herself, but her loyalty was to her people and making sure the reputation of ghosts didn't tarnish. "And yet, they're so beautiful," I couldn't help but reply, remembering her words when I was a small child. "That they are," agreed Gran.

[sinnohelitefourlore]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Rated: M Summary: They say that relapse is a part of recovery. Lance thinks that's a very dangerous slogan because he believes it's given him permission so he thinks he's on his way to recovery.

They also say that it takes on average five relapses to resolve a substance disorder. Lance doesn't know if that means he'll quit by choice or if his body quits for him.

-

A companion piece to The League Chronicles, and why Lance can't have just one drink.

[sinnohelitefourlore]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Rated: M Summary: Consumed by rage and a desperate sense of justice, Flint crosses a line he never imagined, leaving him haunted by the act even as he struggles to reclaim his life. The League would survive this. Flint wasn't sure he would. Pairing: Brief Flint/Volkner

(Takes place between Chapters 44 and 45 of The League Chronicles)

[sinnohelitefourlore]

Of Ink And Ash: Chapter 5- Out of Their Leagues

Preview:

"But I think it's..." "I see your point, however..." "This isn't a 'however,' thing, Dalton, that's what should be done." I was out of their leagues. Literally. The argument started off small, as most arguments did. But I listened. I was curious. Seeing a veteran elite four member and an elite rising go at it was something not a lot of people could say they had witnessed, so I was prepared to absorb every word. Not to mention that in a way, this was about me. Not specifically about me, but my kind, and how we were perceived. I would be a fool not to take this opportunity, to see the world how they saw it, through the eyes that a civilian couldn't comprehend. "We need to stop waiting around for approval," Phoebe told Dalton. "You keep talking about diplomacy and timing and all of that, but where has that got us? You know, when Drake discovered me, I was very lucky that I met a man that was open-minded about me being able to speak to ghosts. At that time, there weren't many people that believed in ghost-whisperers that could speak to ghost Pokemon, let alone people. Ghost whisperers are still treated as freaks in half the world. Maybe it's time we stop being so polite."

Link: Archive of Our Own

[novas-artblog]

Pokemon brainrot is in full swing so I started working on silly redraws with characters based on my own headcanons and I was very inspired by @sinnohelitefourlore fanfic on Ao3 about the league. It’s such a good fic that only fueled my brainrot more. Will I finish these wips? Who knows

[sinnohelitefourlore]

Of Ink And Ash: Chapter 4- Invitations Are Never Accidental

Preview:

"Come out, come out! Hey, are you alive?" She sounded playful. Like it was a game of hide and seek. Then it was quiet for a moment. I leaned into the door and heard her whisper something. "Banette, no, you can't just break and enter into someone's space! Drake gave us an earful after we did that to his office!" Wait a minute. Did she just talk to her Pokemon? A ghost Pokemon? And she mentioned an elite four member oh-so-casually. My eyes widened. Oh, goodness. I flung the door open. I was greeted by a young woman with sun-kissed skin, a blue tunic that suggested she had come from Alola, bare feet in loose sandals. Her Banette trailed alongside her. Hoenn. The Hoennian ghost-type specialist. The newest elite four member. Young. A little unorthodox. Had an affinity for speaking to ghost type Pokemon. Phoebe Anela beamed brightly, right in front of me. An elite four member was at my doorstep like it was a regular Tuesday. "Hi!"

Link: Archive of Our Own

[sinnohelitefourlore]

“Dawn felt it in the air; a sudden, electric rush of approval from the Sinnohnian people, and it made her ill. People were shouting, chanting, clapping at this order. Protestors took it upon themselves to push those Kantonians out of the way. Her mother suddenly didn't look so proud to be there, and finally that was enough for Barry to be unnerved by what was happening. After Flint's speech was when Lucian, Bertha, and Cynthia spoke in order - and there was a change in the crowd. More shouts declaring that this was a new Sinnoh, a better Sinnoh, today, tomorrow, and forever.”

-

Pokemon Fanfic: The League Chronicles

[sinnohelitefourlore]

Of Ink And Ash: Chapter 3- Burn What They Call You

Preview:

The dead leaned in to watch. I did not introduce myself to them. They knew who I was, and what I was about to do. What I needed to do.

I needed to win this battle. To stand for my people, as my grandmother did, and her mother before her; people who rose against those who dared to say we were lesser. They denied us beauty, they denied us grace. They branded us spiritmongers with spitting tongues, as if communication with the dead was a curse and not a calling. But I know what I am. I know what we are.

We are beautiful. We are here. We are staying.

-

Link: Ao3

[sinnohelitefourlore]

Of Ink and Ash: Chapter 2- The Hollow Spotlight

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Preview:

"You're named the most popular writer in Unova. Your popularity is climbing in Sinnoh too. I would know."

"I am? Oh… that's… nice?"

"Hm," the man said, giving me an analytical stare. "I've seen the interviews you've done. For an author that's reaching international recognition, something that's very hard to do, you don't seem to be overly proud of it. It seems as though you're almost embarrassed by your own success."

That was how Lucian Darrow introduced himself to me.

[sinnohelitefourlore]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Preview:

Thud.

I jerked awake with an unsettling feeling in my stomach. I had fallen asleep in my room, after taking medication that would ease the voices, spirits, and ghost energy. At age thirteen, it became clear that I wasn't going to outgrow my ability inherited by my mother and my grandmother. When I was a child, it was in full force. Children typically do until they reach teen years and either outgrow it or learn to live with being a ghost-whisperer. Voices, spiritual energy, dead people, all of it, and eventually you learn to tune it out so you can function, so you can live with it. Luckily Unova has medication for it to make things easier. It's always been progressive in that sense thanks to the Unovian ghost-elite.

Thud.

A thud, thud, thud. A resounding thud, thud, thud. I didn't want to get up from bed. But I couldn't shake that bad feeling. It was said that ghost-whisperers have a sense of existential dread, an intuition that's similar to psychics having clairvoyance, but even that in psychics are rare. I don't think I have good intuition, but I did think that whatever feeling I had... well, it wasn't good.

The basement. That's where it came from. I went downstairs and I wish I didn't.

Because I, a thirteen-year-old girl, had discovered my mother's lifeless body.