#twin spirits

[turnipstewdios]

[mass-piplup-outbreak]

Emmet has had a lot to get used to these past few months. Firstly, his brother died 300 years ago, which isn’t something that’s easily taken in stride. But, you know, time comes for us all, and eventually he started being able to live with that. After Elesa had to physically come to his house and drag him out of his depression and into the sunlight.

Second, though, was finding out that Ingo isn’t actually as dead as a whole grave dedicated to him would have you believe! Funny how things work like that. Sure, Emmet’s technically being haunted and all, but there are arguably worse worse things to be haunted by than the spirit of your dead brother.

And the third revelation was the absolute gut punch that his brother forgot him. Emmet isn’t sure if it’s some side effect of being a ghost or if this happened sometime before he died, but at the very least, he’s used to receiving devastating and life-changing news already. He idly wonders if Ingo remembers enough about him to know he was faking his smile when he pulled out their old photo albums.

He hopes not.

But the strangest change is, once Ingo is able to, he starts asking questions.

“When’s our birthday?” Ingo asks, and while Emmet is usually more than happy to answer his brother’s questions, he does not like when he pops into existence directly behind them just to ask.

Emmet takes a deep breath, trying to calm his nerves. “Ingo. Please. Stop doing that.”

Ingo tilts his head, the way he used to when he was thinking about something that confused him. Well, that’s a habit he hasn’t lost. “Oh, right. I suppose that would have scared you.”

Even after spending the last few months tailing Emmet, it seems Ingo still hasn’t figured out being a human again. Emmet spins around in his desk chair to face his ghostly brother. It’s a late night at Gear Station, and the only reason Ingo would show his face was if he was certain the last employee had already left. They’ve been trying to be careful ever since the tabloids ran a story about ghost sightings at the subway.

“You asked a question.” Emmet states.

“Yes, I wanted to know when our birthday is.” Ingo stands just the slightest bit straighter. He always tends to slouch after accidentally scaring Emmet.

Emmet leans back in his chair. “I’m not expecting a gift from you.”

It’s a bit blunt, but if Ingo’s at all bothered, he doesn’t show it. “I understand that, believe me. But the reason I want to know is... I don’t know how old I was.”

“I see.” Ouch, that’s something that hadn’t occurred to Emmet. Sure, he knows memory has been difficult for Ingo, but the fact that he didn’t even know his age stings in particular. They’ve always shared that.

Actually, that sends Emmet’s train of thought down a different track. He and Ingo have always been the same age, but that’s going to change soon, isn’t it? Emmet’s still alive, after all, and it’s not like Ingo’s got any chance of aging as he is now.

What if they’re already decoupled from each other?

Emmet sighs. “Our birthday is May 23rd. We were 25 and it was October when you disappeared. Is that enough?”

“Yes, I-” Ingo taps at his chin, considering it for a moment. “I think that’s enough. Give me a moment.”

Ingo has always paced when he's thinking too hard, even when they were children. If Emmet could just forget that his brother died, it would almost be like he never left. This would be just another late night in the office, finishing up work that couldn’t be put off to the next day. Ingo’s just stumped looking at their budget, trying to figure how much they’re going to have to put aside for maintenance. Didn’t someone say the Orange Line had been running a bit slowly, as of late?

“Okay, I figured it out,” Ingo announces, and just like that, the illusion is gone. “If I was 25 when I arrived in Hisui, then I was 30 when I died.”

Emmet looks at him. “Ingo, I’m 31”

The two twins stare at each other in disbelieving silence for a moment. Emmet can practically see the wheels turning in his brother’s head, trying to see if his calculations were off.

And, for some reason, this is the funniest thing that has ever happened to Emmet. He can’t stop the smugness that slips into his regular grin.

“Stop that.” Ingo clenches his fists together, and Emmet just knows that he’s mortified. “I’m the older twin, you need to stop smiling like that.”

“I think I’m the older twin now.” And that’s the only thing he needs to say.

“Oh, let’s just add that extra three hundred years on top of that, alright?” Ingo grits his teeth as he speaks, and some part of Emmet is way to pleased to have gotten on his nerves like that. “That’s 330 years! I’m still older than you!”

“Sure, sure,” Emmet mimes sympathetically patting his brother’s back, since he can’t actually do it. “Whatever you say, little brother.”

That was the first time Ingo got upset enough to knock the power out.

[mass-piplup-outbreak]

the sinnoh historical society occasionally sends emmet copies of pictures they find if ingo is in them. one of them is him clearly in pain on the ground with his hands on his forehead, because they were doing a lesson on poke balls for the citizens of jubilife and someone ended up pelting him right in the head.

this is, of course, emmet’s favorite picture of ingo ever.

[mass-piplup-outbreak]

i have no choice but to share every au idea that comes to my head, so here’s something i’ve dubbed Twin Spirits AU (content warning for character death)

(obligatory shippers DNI)

ingo dies a few years after the spacetime rift closes. it’s an accident, but accidents are unforgiving in hisui. he drops his celestica flute in the chaos, and he ends up bleeding out alone.

nobody finds him until days later. by then, it’s already too late.

the pearl clan honors him, an outsider from a faraway land who dedicated himself to his role as a warden. his funeral is a somber affair, but in the end, he’s buried among the rest of the clan’s departed.

and then ingo wakes up. he’s standing behind a gravestone. he sees irida, with gaeric and palina at either side of her, other members of the clan too, and they’re all walking away. there’s some part of him that’s afraid of being alone again, desperately afraid, so he tries to go after them

except, when he gets just a few feet away from the grave, he’s stopped. it’s not that there’s anything in his way, it’s that he physically can’t move any further

ingo looks back at the grave, and with horror, he realizes it’s his name that’s inscribed on it.

that’s when it sinks in

he’s stuck here

as a spirit, ingo is unable to stray too far from his grave in the icelands. he’s forced to watch the world pass him by.

being dead is very different than being alive.

despite the frigid temperatures, ingo doesn’t feel the slightest bit cold. no matter how much he paces around his grave, he doesn’t leave a single footprint. snowflakes fall through his hands.

unfortunately, ingo’s memories don’t easily return to him, even as a spirt. in fact, it’s much more difficult to knock something loose when he’s stuck in one place.

if anything, he starts to lose the few memories he managed to recover.

speaking of being stuck in one place, it’s incredibly BORING

it’s easier at first, when visits are still frequent. irida comes by a lot, and most of the time, she talks to him. ingo can’t respond to her, and she doesn’t even know he’s there. but it’s still nice to see her.

irida clearly blames herself, if her constant apologizing is anything to go by. ingo can see why she’d think so, but he desperately wants to tell her that it isn’t her fault.

of course, she can’t hear him when he says that.

a few other members of the pearl clan stop by as well. lian visits a few times, as do palina, calaba, and gaeric. a few of the remaining galaxy team members also come to see him. most shocking of all, melli makes an appearance, but ingo isn’t really sure what the point of that was.

as time goes on, though, ingo receives less and less visitors. life does go on, after all. while it’s difficult to be alone for so long, he tries his best not to take it personally.

his boredom turns to anguish very quickly.

many years go by, and nothing changes with ingo’s situation. he’s still dead, and he’s still stuck at his grave.

even though more members of the pearl clan end up dying, no one else joins him in this lonesome graveyard.

he’s alone, again. he can’t stand it. it was foreign to him even when he was alive, but over time, he was able to get used to it. now, though, it’s like every second he spends by himself is a knife through his chest.

he tries to leave. a lot. every time, though, he’s stopped after just a few feet. the repeated failures just end up making everything worse.

he eventually figures out he can rest for a bit, almost like turning off some parts of his mind. he’s still aware, somewhat, but it does wonders to dull the edge.

it’s agonizing, but he persists like this for decades. every waking moment, he wishes that whatever otherworldly force that left him like this would finally pull the brakes on his train

of course, there’s a certain someone who’s unwilling to let ingo fade into oblivion like that.

it’s the only lead that emmet had. it’s the most terrible one, and the one he desperately hopes isn’t true, but it’s very much his last chance.

the sinnoh historical society reached out once they heard about the situation with ingo, and the information they were able to provide him was promising enough. if by “promising” one means devastating.

from the records they sent online, emmet was able to gather that in ancient sinnoh (also known as hisui! that was a fun bit of trivia he learned), there was a group of individuals known as wardens. among them was warden ingo of the pearl clan, a distinctly non-hisuian name. in fact, it almost sounded like something from modern unova, which only added to the mystery of the strange warden.

apparently, it had been a source of debate for years where exactly warden ingo had originated from. some records seemed to indicate he wasn’t originally from the pearl clan, but there wasn’t any more information to go off of.

it was compelling at first, emmet had to admit, but it seemed like a bit of a stretch. that was, until the historical society sent him a follow up email explaining the time-space rift that had born down on hisui. with this information, they also included a grainy old photograph that they managed to uncover on his behalf.

it was, undoubtedly, ingo.

emmet booked the next flight to sinnoh.

once he’s in sinnoh, emmet meets with the historical society. they’re able to show him a lot of documentation that they weren’t able to send online. as much as he hates to admit it, everything lines up. all of the historical accounts sound like ingo, and of course, the pictures even look like him! as they walk him through all of the information they have, eelektross and galvantula try their best to comfort their shaken master

by the end of their presentation, emmet is convinced. his brother fell through a rift in space and time, and found himself centuries in the past.

but if it’s been centuries since then...

there’s just one thing they have left to show emmet. this one requires a field trip to snowpoint city.

it’s a bit of a hike out of town, but the pearl clan’s graveyard was declared a historical site ages ago. the representative that travels with emmet is kind enough to show him the way, but when they reach the grave, they give him space

though the inscriptions have faded, emmet can just barely make out the words

Warden Ingo

he’s been trying his best not to do this in front of the members of the historical society, but he’s alone now.

emmet cries.

he falls to his knees and sobs, wretched and pitiful.

he isn’t as alone as he thinks, however...

from his rest, ingo hears something. it sounds like a voice. at first, he thinks he started crying without realizing it. it’s happened before. as he “wakes up”, though, he realizes that it isn’t him.

someone’s here. someone’s crying at his grave.

he has to see it for himself.

emmet knew what he was going to find here. it was only fair, he decided, if he brought some of ingo’s pokemon with him. they deserved to know what happened.

he’s in no way ready to bring ingo’s pokemon out, but chandelure jumps out of its pokeball on its own.

The shift from absolutely nothing to the blinding white snows of the icelands has been a source of pain for Ingo for centuries. Not only were the two states of being very different, it also meant that he was awake.

Ingo hates being awake.

This time, however, he doesn’t get much of a chance to let that realization sink in. As soon as he’s pulled himself back together, something charges into his chest, immediately knocking him back and onto the ground.

Contact.

Ingo hasn’t been corporeal since he died. He was starting to forget what it felt like to use his hands.

For a split second, the Pokémon is unfamiliar to him. It’s glassy, and its strange, spindly arms are wrapped around him in what must be its best approximation of a hug. But then he catches sight of its ghostly purple flames, and Ingo realizes.

“Chandelure...” he says, like he’s trying to remember how to speak.

Chandelure says nothing, but Ingo’s used to Pokémon not speaking.

For the first time in so long, Ingo finally feels like something is right. Like he’s finally regaining some of the pieces of himself he lost on the way to Hisui, or even after he died. He doesn’t have a heart anymore, but he knows it would be leaping out of his chest right now.

He doesn’t know a lot of things, but at least he knows what a Chandelure is.

And then, he notices that there’s someone behind Chandelure.

“I’m sorry...” he sobs into his gloved hands, his whole frame shaking with every breath he takes. “I wasn’t strong enough. I couldn’t save you.”

Ingo’s heard it before. Though it feels a bit too late to be crying over someone like him.

Who is he?

Chandelure notices Ingo is staring, and so it graciously floats out of the way. Ingo shuffles towards where the stranger is kneeling, until he’s sitting right in front of him. At least, he thinks this is a stranger. It’s been a long time, everyone he knew in life surely must have passed on by now.

And then, he looks up. His cheeks are stained by tears, his eyes all puffy. Ingo knows who this is.

“Emmet...” he whispers.

Emmet doesn’t look at Ingo, though. Emmet looks past him, to the Chandelure hovering behind its departed trainer.

Of course. Of course he can’t see him.

“Chandelure, you don’t have to stay here.” He unhooks one of the Poké Balls from his belt. “You can return if you’d like.”

In response, Chandelure huddles closer to Ingo.

“He’s gone,” Emmet manages to choke out before he breaks into another sob. “He’s really gone!”

Ingo’s pretty sure he had memories of Emmet, once upon a time. He can vaguely remember his journey with Akari through Wayward Cave. But so many things have changed since then, and existing as a tormented spirit doesn’t do wonders for one’s memory.

But Emmet looks like him, and that has to mean something. There’s a pull in his chest, and to his surprise, Ingo realizes he’s relieved. Like he’s been running around all day, one thing after the other, and he can finally go home and sleep.

Emmet stays by the grave for a while, long after he’s run out of tears to cry. Ingo isn’t sure how much time has passed. A few Pokémon come out of their balls, some of which Ingo can just barely remember, but they all return eventually. The only exception is Chandelure, who refuses to leave its trainer’s side.

When the sun begins to set, Emmet finally decides to leave.

“Goodbye, Ingo,” Emmet says, and somehow, Ingo can tell he’s trying to put on a brave face. “I’ll be back sometime.”

Ingo doesn’t even realize he’s doing it. He stands, and almost automatically, he follows Emmet out of the graveyard.

This time, nothing stops him.

[mass-piplup-outbreak]

“Depot agents using ingo to get people to behave on the subway” but consider: the same thing, except backfiring

One of the depot agents, gesturing towards Emmet going full throttle in a battle with a child: Ingo wouldn’t approve of this

Ingo, materializing: Yes, I would.

ingo in no way believes you should go easy on someone based on their age. if you're good enough to reach a subway master, then you deserve whatever outcome you receive.

[mass-piplup-outbreak]

Nimbasa specifically has naturally occuring earthquakes because it’s still adjusting from a certain subway boss using the move approximately 25 times a day

this is definitely true and totally canon

ingo irreversibly changed the geological structure of nimbasa. good for him!

[mass-piplup-outbreak]

i keep thinking of this scenario where, once the dust settles, emmet offhandedly refers to ingo as his "asshole brother" because he was complaining about some shit he pulled when they were teens.

only for elesa, who is unaware that ingo is a ghost and it's okay to be mean to him again, to go, "are you referring to your dead brother?"

[mass-piplup-outbreak]

Ghost Fools

(aka, emmet bites the dust) read it on ao3! if you like this fic, please reblog it!

‥

When Emmet opens his eyes, he almost forgets what happened. He’s back in his too-empty apartment, blinking at the sudden brightness of daylight. Have his eyes been closed for a while or something? And why is he in the living room, wasn’t he in the kitchen?

And then he hears the shouting.

“The nine button, Chandelure! THE NINE! IT’S RIGHT THERE!”

It’s a voice that Emmet hasn’t heard in a very long time.

His legs move on their own accord, not that he’s particularly against the location. It can’t be, it couldn’t be...

There, in the kitchen, is Ingo. Which would totally be a normal thing, if not for the fact that he went missing six years ago and has been dead for a lot longer than that. He’s clearly frantic, gripping onto his tattered hat in a panic as he points to the phone in Chandelure’s spindly arms.

“THERE IS NO WAY YOU’RE THE ONLY ONE WHO CAN OPERATE THE PHONE!” Ingo suddenly yanks his hat off, pulling anxiously at his own hair. “GO GET HAXORUS! OR SOMETHING!”

What’s even more shocking, surprisingly enough, is that the two of them are standing over Emmet’s body, face down on the kitchen floor.

Oh. Right. That happened.

“Ingo?”

“Not now, Emmet,” Ingo spares him a glance, but he does a double-take when the brunt of the situation finally hits him. “Wait. Emmet?!”

The most awkward of silences follows. The twins stare at each other, not quite believing what they’re seeing. Chandelure, clearly uncomfortable with the vibes, puts the phone back on the counter and floats out of the room.

“This is weird,” Ingo finally states.

“Oh, it’s weird?!” Emmet grabs Ingo’s shoulders, which is finally something he can do now. “Have you been following me the whole time?!”

Ingo avoids his brother’s deadly glare, instead finding the wall much more interesting. “Define the whole time.”

Emmet throws his arms in the air in defeat. “I can’t believe this. You were haunting me.”

“Hey, haunting is a strong word,” Ingo points at him, just like he used to whenever he got a lecture about running off. “I’d like to think we were just spending time together.”

“It’s not spending time together if I don’t know you’re there,” Emmet hisses, crossing his arms.

“Maybe, but at least I didn’t do that,” Ingo juts his thumb back over his shoulder, where Emmet’s dead body is still laying on the ground.

“Last I checked, you also died!” Emmet not-so-gently reminds him.

“Yeah, but I didn’t trip while making coffee,” Ingo scoffs. “This is pretty embarrassing for you.”

“Alright then, Mr. Perfect! How did you die, then?!”

Ingo suddenly loses his steam, awkwardly clearing his throat. “I, er… tripped. Off a cliff.”

“HAH!”

“SHUT UP!”

As Emmet’s laughter eventually dies down under the harshness of Ingo’s gaze, another strained silence fills the room. There’s been a pretty large shift to the dynamic of their apartment, characterized primarily by the fact that Emmet’s body is only growing colder. The two of them look at each other, hesitantly, perhaps looking for some solution to the pickle they’ve found themselves in.

At the very same time, both twins ask, “Now what?”