Sand
Flyg0n
Flygon connoisseur
- Pronouns
- She/her
- Partners
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Today, September 12th, is apparently whump day! So in honor of whump day, I wanted to post something. As some of you know, at the time of this writing I am in the final act of my roleplay campaign, Adventure Quest.
And in this campaign, I have a one-off side character named Chef Flygon, who works at a restaurant in his universe. During the course of the campaign, the characters are drawn into Darkrai's Realm and endure their greatest nightmares and fears, and overcome them. What follows is the nightmare Chef Flygon endures.
There's no inside context required for this one, just the knowledge that Flygon is an amiable Chef.
There's also msuic included, so enjoy some themeatic tunes while you read!
Feedback notice: This is posted as is, exactly how it was written at the time. I have no plans to make significant changes. However, I welcome grammar suggestions, and mostly want to know temperature reads and emotional reactions. Did you like the character, was the prose nice, and the evolution within the dream sequence enjoyable. That sort of thing.
It would actually make my day to get a comment, even if its just 'cool story bro'
Enjoy!
5 min doodle of Chef Flygon
And in this campaign, I have a one-off side character named Chef Flygon, who works at a restaurant in his universe. During the course of the campaign, the characters are drawn into Darkrai's Realm and endure their greatest nightmares and fears, and overcome them. What follows is the nightmare Chef Flygon endures.
There's no inside context required for this one, just the knowledge that Flygon is an amiable Chef.
There's also msuic included, so enjoy some themeatic tunes while you read!
Feedback notice: This is posted as is, exactly how it was written at the time. I have no plans to make significant changes. However, I welcome grammar suggestions, and mostly want to know temperature reads and emotional reactions. Did you like the character, was the prose nice, and the evolution within the dream sequence enjoyable. That sort of thing.
It would actually make my day to get a comment, even if its just 'cool story bro'
Enjoy!
5 min doodle of Chef Flygon
CW: for implications of emotional abuse, bullying and for self-hatred
Sand.
Flygon stumbled and looked around. Before him lay a vast expanse of desert, a cloudless blue sky above and barely a wind stirring the air. Home? But then... he looked down, then all around. No sign of his hat or apron or any of his things. A tiny knot formed in his stomach. Swallowing it down, he started to walk.
It felt like home, sort of. He thought maybe the distant rock formation seemed similar, or certain dunes a bit familiar and yet... something was off too.
The earth under his feet rumbled and he paused. It shook again, and his body tensed up, his breathing accelerating. His eyes raced across the ground searching for any signs of something burrowing -
Rumble
Rumble
Chills crawled down his spine. It almost felt like... footsteps? His head shot up just in time to see a great silhouette in the distance, growing steadily larger. Four ridged wings, a bulky body, sharp covers over the eyes.
Flygon felt himself instinctively shrink back. The Mega Flygon finally came into full view at the crest of a dune, threw back its head, and roared.
The sound invaded Flygon’s mind, distorting his thoughts, burning deeper and deeper into his mind, dredging up memories he worked hard to bury until he couldn’t hold them back -
Nothing. Blinking, Flygon looked all around. Had he fallen down? The ground was so close... No... was he a trapinch again?
“Come on you stupid bug! I thought you wanted to be stronger!”
Trapinch-Flygon cringed at the voice as he recognized it. Adrian. His old trainer, many many years ago. Apparently what humans referred to as ‘a young man’. He shook himself and stood back up again, facing the Sandile. He’d show Adrian he could be strong. With a great cry, he rammed it, knocking it out. Adrian smiled, and Trapinch-Flygon found himself smiling too.
~
He did want to be stronger. That was why he’d joined Adrian. Whatever it took. Flygon pushed himself every training session, every battle. Adrian pressed him endlessly. Always a scathing remark, always a reminder of his weakness, always pushing pushing pushing pushing
Trapinch-Flygon handled it all. He wouldn’t be weak. ‘Suck it up,’ his den-mother had said once. And she was right.
“Get over it, get back up,” Adrian demanded.
And he did. It was all he’d ever wanted, before he’d even met Adrian. Stronger. Stronger. Push the pain down. Suck it up. Stronger. Pain is weakness, never give in. Get up. Get up.
Ignore the pain.
And he did. Every time. And he grew. Evolved faster than some of his teammates. First a Vibrava, then a Flygon. But still he wasn’t the strongest. A hole inside him, that evolving didn’t fill.
Stronger.
More battles. More gyms. Training and training, learning the best techniques, honing them hour after hour until his lungs burned and his body begged for rest.
Mega Evolution. He remembered the grueling flights across Kalos. The caves they explored, night after night, day after day. And then one day, a mention of something, the lead they needed. But they weren’t the only ones. Racing to the area. Rushing through cavern after cavern, through tight tunnels and tiny spaces.
And then finally, up above. All that he needed to do was reach the top of a ledge, and it would be his. But he wasn’t the only one. A girl. Climbing determinedly up the rock face. So he started up too, first flying, then half climbing, half flying. The wall at his back is too narrow to allow him to fly the whole way.
Except now she was in his way.
Flygon shoved past her. He saw her grip on the wall wobble. And he heard her shrill scream as her hand slipped and she fell, landing yards below with a sickening crack!
He saw her below, her leg twisted, and heard her crying out in pain.
And he heard Adrian's voice, always in the back of his mind. "Come on! Stop being pathetic! You wanted to be strong, suck it up!"
He turned away and half flew, half scrambled the rest of the way up.
The mega stone was his. Finally. Nothing could stand against him and Adrian now.
And nothing did, mostly. They mastered it swiftly, and almost every battle he felt it. Power. Confidence. Nothing could stop them.
Nothing could hurt him.
Soon his teammates grew to fear him.
As they should.
They knew he was the strongest, he worked the hardest, and he was the cornerstone. When they faltered in training he snarled and roared until they got up. On the days when they wanted a break, he shouted until they understood. This wasn’t a team for the weak. If they couldn’t handle it, they could leave.
He won, won so many battles he forgot the losses. Even Elite 4 Pokemon crumbled beneath him eventually. And if they didn’t, he fought and fought until they did. Stronger.
He barely felt the ever present void in his chest now.
Mega Evolution was all he needed. He had everything he needed.
He did, he did, he did. It had to be enough, please enough
~
“Jeez I just wanna take 5 minutes! I’ll keep training but I gotta catch my breath!” Tyrogue snapped. He glared defiantly at Flygon - no, he was a Mega Flygon now. “Go bother someone else!”
A snarl built in Mega-Flygon’s throat. Adrian’s new Tyrogue was strong but he wasn’t using it right. He wanted to take breaks. Rest. That wasn’t how you got to be stronger, that was weakness.
“Get up!” he growled, pacing around him, wings flicking irritably.
Tyrogue glared at him. “Buzz off. I’ll get up when I want.”
WHAP! Flygon's tail flicked out like a whip, without him even thinking about it. He felt it connect against Tyrogue’s soft face and it tumbled to the side, grunting in surprise. He saw the red welt form where it'd been struck, and all of a sudden he felt ill, sicker than he could ever remember being.
He'd yelled and roared and made threats and jabbed and goaded but he never once struck one of his teammates outside of battle. Not like this. He shrunk in on himself, hot shame and guilt pressing in on all sides. His mega evolution faded and he shrank to his usual size.
What was he becoming?
“Come on you stupid bug! I thought you wanted to be stronger!”
Trapinch-Flygon cringed at the voice as he recognized it. Adrian. His old trainer, many many years ago. Apparently what humans referred to as ‘a young man’. He shook himself and stood back up again, facing the Sandile. He’d show Adrian he could be strong. With a great cry, he rammed it, knocking it out. Adrian smiled, and Trapinch-Flygon found himself smiling too.
~
He did want to be stronger. That was why he’d joined Adrian. Whatever it took. Flygon pushed himself every training session, every battle. Adrian pressed him endlessly. Always a scathing remark, always a reminder of his weakness, always pushing pushing pushing pushing
Trapinch-Flygon handled it all. He wouldn’t be weak. ‘Suck it up,’ his den-mother had said once. And she was right.
“Get over it, get back up,” Adrian demanded.
And he did. It was all he’d ever wanted, before he’d even met Adrian. Stronger. Stronger. Push the pain down. Suck it up. Stronger. Pain is weakness, never give in. Get up. Get up.
Ignore the pain.
And he did. Every time. And he grew. Evolved faster than some of his teammates. First a Vibrava, then a Flygon. But still he wasn’t the strongest. A hole inside him, that evolving didn’t fill.
Stronger.
More battles. More gyms. Training and training, learning the best techniques, honing them hour after hour until his lungs burned and his body begged for rest.
Mega Evolution. He remembered the grueling flights across Kalos. The caves they explored, night after night, day after day. And then one day, a mention of something, the lead they needed. But they weren’t the only ones. Racing to the area. Rushing through cavern after cavern, through tight tunnels and tiny spaces.
And then finally, up above. All that he needed to do was reach the top of a ledge, and it would be his. But he wasn’t the only one. A girl. Climbing determinedly up the rock face. So he started up too, first flying, then half climbing, half flying. The wall at his back is too narrow to allow him to fly the whole way.
Except now she was in his way.
Flygon shoved past her. He saw her grip on the wall wobble. And he heard her shrill scream as her hand slipped and she fell, landing yards below with a sickening crack!
He saw her below, her leg twisted, and heard her crying out in pain.
And he heard Adrian's voice, always in the back of his mind. "Come on! Stop being pathetic! You wanted to be strong, suck it up!"
He turned away and half flew, half scrambled the rest of the way up.
The mega stone was his. Finally. Nothing could stand against him and Adrian now.
And nothing did, mostly. They mastered it swiftly, and almost every battle he felt it. Power. Confidence. Nothing could stop them.
Nothing could hurt him.
Soon his teammates grew to fear him.
As they should.
They knew he was the strongest, he worked the hardest, and he was the cornerstone. When they faltered in training he snarled and roared until they got up. On the days when they wanted a break, he shouted until they understood. This wasn’t a team for the weak. If they couldn’t handle it, they could leave.
He won, won so many battles he forgot the losses. Even Elite 4 Pokemon crumbled beneath him eventually. And if they didn’t, he fought and fought until they did. Stronger.
He barely felt the ever present void in his chest now.
Mega Evolution was all he needed. He had everything he needed.
He did, he did, he did. It had to be enough, please enough
~
“Jeez I just wanna take 5 minutes! I’ll keep training but I gotta catch my breath!” Tyrogue snapped. He glared defiantly at Flygon - no, he was a Mega Flygon now. “Go bother someone else!”
A snarl built in Mega-Flygon’s throat. Adrian’s new Tyrogue was strong but he wasn’t using it right. He wanted to take breaks. Rest. That wasn’t how you got to be stronger, that was weakness.
“Get up!” he growled, pacing around him, wings flicking irritably.
Tyrogue glared at him. “Buzz off. I’ll get up when I want.”
WHAP! Flygon's tail flicked out like a whip, without him even thinking about it. He felt it connect against Tyrogue’s soft face and it tumbled to the side, grunting in surprise. He saw the red welt form where it'd been struck, and all of a sudden he felt ill, sicker than he could ever remember being.
He'd yelled and roared and made threats and jabbed and goaded but he never once struck one of his teammates outside of battle. Not like this. He shrunk in on himself, hot shame and guilt pressing in on all sides. His mega evolution faded and he shrank to his usual size.
What was he becoming?
—
Sand pressed in on all sides. He was back in the desert, a trapinch again. Face buried in the sand, trying to block out everything. Hiding. He knew who the other Mega Flygon was. He couldn’t see him, couldn’t look at him. Couldn't face himself.
A pathetic mantra played on loop through his thoughts. Go away go away go away.
He dug himself deeper into his pit.
"You can't hide from who you truly are." A sneering voice. His voice. "This is who you're meant to be. No one can stop us like this. Stop being weak and get up!"
The Mega Flygon, loomed above him, tall now, too tall too big. Too strong.
Letting out a crackling wail, he cowered before the mega Flygon, before himself, burying himself deeper and deeper into his pit.
With flap of his powerful wings, Mega Flygon unearthed him. "Stop hiding! Get up you pathetic bug!" The Mega opened its jaws, white dragon fire streaming forth.
It enveloped Flygon in searing brightness, white all around as he screamed in pain-
And then he found himself in a kitchen, a pristine white kitchen, flanked by the cheerful face of... He felt himself wilt. Mariano. His best friend, and his mentor, the one who'd taught him to cook. A great pit yawned in his stomach, even as his body played through the memory on its own.
"I don't get why I should bother with this stupid cooking." He tossed the spatula to the ground. "It won't help me get stronger. It's useless."
I'm useless
Mariano frowned softly, and bent down, picking the spatula up. He set it on the counter.
"Why do you think it won't help?"
Flygon scowled at him. "What am I gonna do, cook my opponents into defeat?" The hot feeling in his chest burned stronger. "It's not helping," he hissed. He snatched the spatula off the counter and slammed it on the ground. "I don't need this."
Mariano simply nodded, understanding in his gaze. Genuine understanding. Not pity, but like he cared. Truly cared. Flygon hated it.
"You came here on your own, right? No one asked you to?"
Flygon clenched his jaw, tail flicking erratically. He forced himself to nod. It was true. The Center was meant to be a refuge for pokemon who wanted help. Who wanted to change. Except he wasn't like the other mon here. He wasn't good enough-
"Do you remember why you said you wanted to come here?" His voice was gentle but firm. Free of judgement. Flygon wanted to scream at him. Grab him by the shoulders and shake him until he snapped, told him he was awful and he couldn't be helped and he was worthless-
"Do you?"
Rolling his eyes, Flygon nodded. "I said I wanted to stop being such a horrible jerk." he spat the words out as cuttingly as he could. "But clearly I can't. I don't feel any better, I'm not getting any better and I never will."
Mariano just nodded. Not accepting, but just acknowledging. He turned to the bowl of cake batter he’d been preparing and began to pour it into a pan.
Flygon glared at him. Was he just going to bake? In his head, he raged. Say something! Tell me I’m right gods please just tell me the truth tell me I’m horrible tell me I can’t change tell me I’m bad-
“Are you going to put your cake in the oven?” Mariano stood in front of the open oven, his own cake already inside.
Flygon gave him a dirty glare, but grabbed his pan and jammed it inside the oven, then slammed the door shut.
Mariano stood back and folded his hands behind his back. “Is this a cake?”
He clenched his claw, then shrugged as he stared through the window of the oven. “What does it matter?” Mariano gave no reply, but from the corner of his eye, Flygon could see him watching expectantly. “No, I guess not,” Flygon said finally.
“Right. It’s not ready yet. It needs to cook, and the chemical reactions need to happen to turn it from a batter into something solid. Then it can be cooled and frosted.”
Flygon’s gaze remained locked on the oven.
Mariano continued. “You came here because you wanted help. As you said ‘I want to be less of an asshole. I’m a bad pokemon.’ Someone who is truly bad doesn’t try to get help, and they certainly do not admit to their issues. If you were a monster or beyond hope... you would continue in your ways, until it was too late. You would reject help.” He turned to face Flygon.
Eyes burning and throat tight, Flygon refused to meet his gaze.
“But you’re here instead. You must give yourself time to become a cake. Do you know what is required to change?”
Flygon shrugged forcefully. “Being good?” Bitterness filled his mouth.
“The only thing required to change is the willingness to admit your fault, and the strength to accept help.”
Flygon stamped their foot. “Strength? This isn’t strength, it’s weakness! I should have gotten over this by now! I should be stronger than this but I’m just a pathetic bug no matter what I try!” Burning, burning in their chest a pit in their stomach that never went away.
Still, Mariano’s tone remained level. Not angry. “Then tell me which was harder for you. Letting your anger control you, lashing out, using your strength to hurt others? Or coming here?”
“I...” Flygon stopped, blinked and turned to face Mariano. His thoughts tumbled into a jumbled pile and he scrambled to reorganize them. Harder? He opened his mouth, then closed it. Part of him wanted to say that it had been harder before, harder to fight and train and...fight again, harder and harder.
But it hadn’t been. That had been easy. So easy. Easy to give in every day, to ignore his conscience, ignore everything inside that told him not to listen. To push the emptiness inside him down and hide it away. Lose himself in every battle, every hard fought win. Coming here had felt worse, worse than every loss, every humiliation, even worse than every barbed comment Adrian threw at him. It had felt awful, like a fight every single day. This had been harder.
Mariano picked up the spatula from the floor. “You haven’t left yet. Even though you could. Every day you’re growing stronger, but it's hard to see that from inside the oven. But one day you will. You’ll realize that you’ve come far and you’re not the same dragon you once were.”
"I don't get why I should bother with this stupid cooking." He tossed the spatula to the ground. "It won't help me get stronger. It's useless."
I'm useless
Mariano frowned softly, and bent down, picking the spatula up. He set it on the counter.
"Why do you think it won't help?"
Flygon scowled at him. "What am I gonna do, cook my opponents into defeat?" The hot feeling in his chest burned stronger. "It's not helping," he hissed. He snatched the spatula off the counter and slammed it on the ground. "I don't need this."
Mariano simply nodded, understanding in his gaze. Genuine understanding. Not pity, but like he cared. Truly cared. Flygon hated it.
"You came here on your own, right? No one asked you to?"
Flygon clenched his jaw, tail flicking erratically. He forced himself to nod. It was true. The Center was meant to be a refuge for pokemon who wanted help. Who wanted to change. Except he wasn't like the other mon here. He wasn't good enough-
"Do you remember why you said you wanted to come here?" His voice was gentle but firm. Free of judgement. Flygon wanted to scream at him. Grab him by the shoulders and shake him until he snapped, told him he was awful and he couldn't be helped and he was worthless-
"Do you?"
Rolling his eyes, Flygon nodded. "I said I wanted to stop being such a horrible jerk." he spat the words out as cuttingly as he could. "But clearly I can't. I don't feel any better, I'm not getting any better and I never will."
Mariano just nodded. Not accepting, but just acknowledging. He turned to the bowl of cake batter he’d been preparing and began to pour it into a pan.
Flygon glared at him. Was he just going to bake? In his head, he raged. Say something! Tell me I’m right gods please just tell me the truth tell me I’m horrible tell me I can’t change tell me I’m bad-
“Are you going to put your cake in the oven?” Mariano stood in front of the open oven, his own cake already inside.
Flygon gave him a dirty glare, but grabbed his pan and jammed it inside the oven, then slammed the door shut.
Mariano stood back and folded his hands behind his back. “Is this a cake?”
He clenched his claw, then shrugged as he stared through the window of the oven. “What does it matter?” Mariano gave no reply, but from the corner of his eye, Flygon could see him watching expectantly. “No, I guess not,” Flygon said finally.
“Right. It’s not ready yet. It needs to cook, and the chemical reactions need to happen to turn it from a batter into something solid. Then it can be cooled and frosted.”
Flygon’s gaze remained locked on the oven.
Mariano continued. “You came here because you wanted help. As you said ‘I want to be less of an asshole. I’m a bad pokemon.’ Someone who is truly bad doesn’t try to get help, and they certainly do not admit to their issues. If you were a monster or beyond hope... you would continue in your ways, until it was too late. You would reject help.” He turned to face Flygon.
Eyes burning and throat tight, Flygon refused to meet his gaze.
“But you’re here instead. You must give yourself time to become a cake. Do you know what is required to change?”
Flygon shrugged forcefully. “Being good?” Bitterness filled his mouth.
“The only thing required to change is the willingness to admit your fault, and the strength to accept help.”
Flygon stamped their foot. “Strength? This isn’t strength, it’s weakness! I should have gotten over this by now! I should be stronger than this but I’m just a pathetic bug no matter what I try!” Burning, burning in their chest a pit in their stomach that never went away.
Still, Mariano’s tone remained level. Not angry. “Then tell me which was harder for you. Letting your anger control you, lashing out, using your strength to hurt others? Or coming here?”
“I...” Flygon stopped, blinked and turned to face Mariano. His thoughts tumbled into a jumbled pile and he scrambled to reorganize them. Harder? He opened his mouth, then closed it. Part of him wanted to say that it had been harder before, harder to fight and train and...fight again, harder and harder.
But it hadn’t been. That had been easy. So easy. Easy to give in every day, to ignore his conscience, ignore everything inside that told him not to listen. To push the emptiness inside him down and hide it away. Lose himself in every battle, every hard fought win. Coming here had felt worse, worse than every loss, every humiliation, even worse than every barbed comment Adrian threw at him. It had felt awful, like a fight every single day. This had been harder.
Mariano picked up the spatula from the floor. “You haven’t left yet. Even though you could. Every day you’re growing stronger, but it's hard to see that from inside the oven. But one day you will. You’ll realize that you’ve come far and you’re not the same dragon you once were.”
~
Flygon blinked, sand shifting all around him. He was a trapinch still, head buried in the sand. The ground around him kept moving erratically and he realized he was shaking, tears streaming from his eyes and dampening the sand.
Somewhere in the distance, he heard the Mega Flygon roaring still, he could feel himself tearing up the earth, snarling barbed insults.
Flygon-Trapinch swallowed, the tightness in his chest easing. He shook himself, digging himself out of his pit. Shaking the sand off, he looked up. Mega Flygon still raged through the dunes, blasting streams of dragonfire, turning chunks of desert to glass.
The earth began to shine - no, he was glowing, the brightness reflecting. His body changed, he felt himself grow lean again, felt the wings on his back and his spindly legs, lifting him from the ground. The glow faded, and hence again found himself a Vibrava.
Mega Flygon’s head swung around, gaze locking onto him. “There you are, little bug. Going to fight me? You’ll never be strong enough to stop me. No matter how much you evolve, weakling. Stop fighting it.” It flared its wings in a show of strength. “Accept it. You are me.”
Flygon-Vibrava buzzed his wings, shooting up into the air until he was level with the Mega’s eyes. “No.”
It reared back, baring its fangs.
“I used to be you. But that's not who I am anymore.” A glow began to form around him.
The light intensified, consuming his form, morphing him until he was larger, a lithe body and strong wings and claws and teeth. “I’m stronger.” Yet the light didn’t stop.
And then, in his mind's eye, Flygon saw it. Mariano’s last gift to him. A Flygonite, with a note attached. “The cake is finally done.”
Light seared everything, blinding Flygon for a moment, before finally dissipating. He was larger now. Still in his regular form, but now he was as tall as the Mega.
A weight lifted off his chest for the first time in years. He felt... peace. A peace he’d never felt with Adrian. He stepped forward and pressed his snout into the other Mega. It pulled back, shock in its eyes. He glared back at it, this time without fear. “I’m done being you. I was done being you years ago.”
“We had everything,” Mega hissed. Now it's voice sounded more like pleading than anything worth listening to. “We were finally strong! We were happy, no one could touch us!” Even as it spoke, it seemed to be shrinking...
“No. We were hiding. Afraid.” As Flygon spoke, he gazed into the Mega’s eyes. And for a moment, he saw not the Mega Flygon, but himself. A scared Trapinch, hurt. Attacked by his own denmates. And he saw Adrian, standing behind him, telling him he didn’t need to be weak anymore, that he could be stronger than all of them and no one could hurt him that way anymore. He saw the anger in Adrian, the same clenched fists, fear in his hunched shoulders, even as he shouted and raged.
“Stop! Y-you can’t deny it!” The trapinch begged. “This is what you are. This is what you have to be!”
Flygon smiled ruefully and shook his head. “No. No it isn’t. I can be better.” And he gazed once more into his own eyes, and felt a sensation, a familiar hand on his back; a figure at his side. Mariano.
He slowly bent down until he was eye level with the Trapinch. With himself. The tension melted from his body completely when he spoke. And then, ever so gently, he scooped up the angry Trapinch, and held himself close, whispering words he’d been so afraid to speak for so long.
“I forgive you.”
Tears spilled from his eyes, and he felt them mirrored on his face, dripping down his neck, soaking the sand. Light swirling around the two, merging them, blending them. Flygon’s silhouette grew. Broad wings from his back, a strong body, and powerful armor of Mega evolution. Finally, the void in his chest faded.
And as the light faded, a great gust of wind blew from behind, sending sand swirling all around. It settled, and the hazy nightmare desert faded with it, into gentle oblivion.
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