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Happy birthday! Hope you've been having a great day.

Nate woke up in the infirmary. Again? Had he left? He wasn't sure. The room was too bright, and he could feel the weight of the air with every breath he took, pressing down on straining lungs. How the fuck did he feel even worse now than he did before? Wasn't the whole point of this shitty...

Nate woke freezing, his head pounding, nausea backing up his throat every time he moved. And he needed to move, because even in his barely-conscious state,not sure where he was or why, he recognized that itching, tingling sensation. "What are you--?" he started, the words starting mushy but...

The story should center the villain's perspective, but the villain doesn't need to literally be the POV character. The villain viewed through a perspective that understands them to some extent and can give some insight into what makes them tick would work better for this contest rather than a...

One-Shot Contest: Mischief and Malice The Pokémon World is a world of heroes, whether they be new trainers setting out to upend the status quo, trusty partners driving back the tide of darkness, or wise mentors helping the next generation along its path. But wherever there are heroes, there...

It was neck-and-neck right up to the end, but when all's said and done, Villain POV is the clear winner of the theme poll! I'd also like to thank bluesidra, SparklingEspeon, and windskull for volunteering to judge this year's contest. Thank you so much for your help--we literally couldn't do it...

Well, it was a... small legendary. Kinda like the hoopa. But it certainly seemed assured of its place, and from the way the other trainers were reacting, it was kind of a big deal. Mightyena watched it float over to take a picture with the cave assholes; Nate studied it himself. Water-type...

Nate jumped slightly when the guy--no, the fucking gym leader--popped up next to him. Where the fuck had he come from? "Uhhh, Mitch," he said dazedly, shaking the man's hand on autopilot. Mightyena raised her head, blinking sleepily at Wallace. Nate stared distractedly down at the pokémon by...

Nate smirked into his coffee as the weird, brambly looking pokémon started mocking the cave asshole about her weird Shakespeare shtick. All right, this trip wouldn't be so bad if he at least got a bit of entertainment out of it. Mightyena, meanwhile, first sat and then flopped out on the...

Nate probably should have thought harder about what it would mean that the weavile kid had gotten a text message about the legendary: that probably everybody with a fucking phone got the same message, and that they were then all going to show up and want a piece of the action. It looked like...

"That makes sense," Mightyena said. "My trainer wants to talk about battling all the time, so I bet that's what he'd want to ask Steven about, too. It's so boring! Fighting is fun, but talking about fighting all the time is no good." Aggron was probably right about Nate needing to smile more...

Nate watched the weavile clamber aboard the aggron, looking absurdly tiny atop his broad shoulders. She was still acting kind of erratic, apparently swooning from something more than the heat. The three pokémon were all chattering away amongst each other, thick as thieves already. For a moment...

Nate's eyebrows rose faintly when the kid emphasized the word "read." Okay, so that was definitely a dig, and also, just what in the fuck was it with people on this island and fucking reading? It was weird as shit. He could very well fucking read, for fuck's sake, and he was tired of people...

Nate blanched under Steven's skeptical look. Great. Just fucking great. The absolute last thing Nate needed was some fucking champion taking any sort of interest. It was time to be gone. Steven and the girl could team up, become great friends, woo, awesome, and he and Mightyena could go find...

Nate smirked as the girl leapt to her feet, apparently ready to give him a piece of her mind. This was gonna be good. Except the words died on her lips, and following her startled gaze, Nate saw--oh. Shit. That's right. This was some kind of wacko places where you could be getting chewed out by...

Did Nate particularly care to see whatever canned "proof" the girl had no doubt prepared in advance to back up her texting trick? Not really. In fact, this entire conversation felt like it wasn't enriching his life any. The girl and her weavile could enjoy smugging at each other, alone, as far...

Nate sensed a trap here somewhere and took a drag of the vile coffee to give himself a moment to think. "Well, I already had one kid try to convince me she spoke pokémon, and she did a damn better job of it than you are with the fucking phone." "She definitely did know what I was saying!"...

Nate narrowed his eyes right back. "Oh, so you're one of those people who can supposedly understand pokémon, is that it?" The weavile was jabbing the phone at him again. Nate looked down at it, but all it was showing was more text. Was she playing the world's most boring game on there, or what...

Nate's face settled into a scowl as the girl went on. Thou? Pray? What the hell was this Shakespeare bullshit? "The fuck is a Trousselin?" he asked. Then the weavile was all up in his face, shoving the music player at him--some kind of fancy phone? He glanced at it, but the screen didn't have...