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Welcome to the World of Pokemon is my central hub for all short drabbles and stories not directly connected to my longer fics! It will also be where I post my bingo prompts. These stories are usually quick snippets of some form written in a short period of time. Feel free to review or give light constructive critcism, though keep in mind I wrote these for fun. They're no doubt a little imperfect so I'd prefer not having critique be too heavy! That said, any response is still welcome and appreciated.
Even if its just a quick sentence or two, I thrive on a bit of validation so. If you enjoyed this feel free to mention it, even on the discord!
First up...
Third anniversary bingo! Topic: Unusual Friendships!
Murderous screeching and yowling broke the humid night air, punctuated by furious hisses in between. If one listened enough, the noise almost sounded like a feral symphony, as if twenty wild pokemon were locked in combat, dancing around each other in concert.
In reality, only two pokemon fought.
Moonlight glinted off a Seviper's blade as it slashed at a Zangoose. Snarling, Zangoose danced backwards before launching himself at his opponent and swiping, claws fully extended. The tips grazed Seviper's scales. Zangoose caught a glimpse of Seviper's crimson eyes flashing with smug satisfaction as it twisted around the attack.
Zangoose landed, sides heaving and limbs trembling. A few yards away, Seviper returned his body to a cautious coil, tongue flickering rapidly and its skin pulsing with each rapid heartbeat.
Seviper's eyes narrowed and flicked its tail. "Time to leave, hairball."
"Did you get so turned around you've got things backwards?" Zangoose retorted, fur fluffing. "Clearly I won. Law of combat says you scram."
The Seviper's eyes nearly bulged from his head. "The match was mine, rodent."
Tension crackled to life. Zangoose's body became rigid and Seviper uncoiled slightly, taking on a posture as if ready to fight. Yet both combatants showed exhaustion, despite their attempts to mask it. As if it took great effort to do so, both relaxed slightly. Slightly.
"Let's settle this tomorrow-"
"We'll resolve this next time-"
Both spoke at nearly the same moment, voices overlapping. Instantly they flared up again. How dare the other suggest such a notion!
"Fine! Midnight," Seviper spat the words, stabbing his blade into the air for emphasis.
Zangoose's mouth contorted and he seemed to have trouble speaking, as he had to force himself to speak. To think he had to agree with this this... "Then you'll taste defeat. Midnight."
The two lingered, neither willing to leave first, until with a maddened huff, they both whipped around and raced into the night.
xXx
A new chorus of combat began at midnight the following night. In true form, the concert lasted well into the night, until both parties were truly exhausted, battered and worn. Yet neither backed down.
"Not bad. For a spineless reptile," Zangoose sneered.
Seviper chortled. "Never knew rats could put up a fight."
A hiss and howl came together, then slowly waned. "Next week. Noon," Zangoose spoke quickly. "I'll beat you again, just like tonight." Though he'd never admit it, he wasn't quite sure he'd be ready for a fight if they did it tomorrow.
"Again?" Seviper rose up, fangs bared. "Don't lie to yourself. Tonight I won." He paused. His gaze never showed it, but relief flickered through him. Two nights in a row left him winded. Not because his opponent was good of course. Only because he'd wanted to prove how much better he was, of course. "But if you want to lose twice, be my guest."
Once again, the two split with great reluctance, vowing defeat and humiliation on the other.
xXx
"Not bad. For a belly crawling reptile," Zangoose hissed.
Seviper coiled into a smug circle, raising his head to look down upon Zangoose. "Who knew four legged mon could put up a fight. You might be able to beat a baby Seviper."
A pause. Anger permeated the air.
"Two nights from now. To prove once and for all who the winner is." Seviper declared.
Zangoose's tail twitched, but he stilled it. He'd been about to suggest they fight again two nights from now, to show up the worm. Whatever. "It's your funeral."
xXx
"Hah! I'm almost impressed," chortled Seviper. He smiled, a little mockingly, then his gaze turned serious and sneering.
Zangoose stood, folding his arms. "The least pathetic display I've seen from a Seviper in awhile."
Seviper's tail wound in slow circles. "Of course, I was going easy on you."
"I barely even tried," Zangoose replied snorting.
For a moment, neither moved, both seemingly relaxed. Then in near perfect sync, they brandished claw and blade, taking up combat stances.
Zangoose dropped to all fours, digging his claws into the dirt. "How about I show you how weak you really are. Dusk. Four nights from now, I'll destroy you."
Seviper smiled. "Did I hit you too hard on the head? I'm looking right at the only weak one here."
"Then you must be staring into a mirror!"
Seviper hissed, and Zangoose hissed back, feeling quite pleased with himself.
xXx
Two definitely sworn enemies faced each other, tired, angry and maybe a little impressed. They glared, gazes never wavering. Another tie. Though if you'd asked Zangoose, he would have insisted he'd won. Seviper would have said much the same.
"Tomorrow!" they growled in unison. With matching huffs of annoyance, they once again turned away and stormed off. Thought, for a brief moment, both paused a few yards away and discreetly glanced back, only to catch the other doing the same. They shot each other dirty looks and left.
xXx
" I have to say," Zangoose said, between pants. "I admire you." He took another breath. Dang. He'd still not managed to land a sound victory yet. This Seviper really was good. "Admire the way you love losing."
"And I'm impressed at the way you are so talented." Seviper stuck his tongue out at Zangoose. Of all the Zangoose he'd fought, this one was perhaps the most skilled. "Talented at lying to yourself.
Both paused.
"There's only one way to settle this then," Seviper said, continuing. He hoped the Zangoose was on the same page as him. Not that it mattered. He didn't care. At all.
"Another fight?" Zangoose said, smirking. Somewhere beneath, a real smile lingered.
"Only to prove once and for all." Seviper said, restraining the excitement from his tone.
xXx
Any who lived or passed through that area of Hoenn's forests spoke of the constant cries of combat, of two pokemon who no doubt hated each other's guts and fought day or night to prove it. Two pokemon, determined to defeat the other. Researchers insisted that over months of observation, it was the same two pokemon, always fighting. A decades long territorial dispute, they theorized. Perhaps an ancient and fierce family rivalry.
If one was particularly observant however, they might note how this Zangoose and Seviper seemed to take delight in their sparring, as if it were a game. They would dance through combat ritualistically, neither giving ground, yet at the end of each fight, (which was always a tie), they seemed much more pleased then times when others of their species would fight each other.
One researcher posited a theory that the two had actually become friends through their fights, and met not to win, but to just hang out under the pretense of combat.
That researcher was immediately dismissed and written off as crazy.
Moonlight glinted off a Seviper's blade as it slashed at a Zangoose. Snarling, Zangoose danced backwards before launching himself at his opponent and swiping, claws fully extended. The tips grazed Seviper's scales. Zangoose caught a glimpse of Seviper's crimson eyes flashing with smug satisfaction as it twisted around the attack.
Zangoose landed, sides heaving and limbs trembling. A few yards away, Seviper returned his body to a cautious coil, tongue flickering rapidly and its skin pulsing with each rapid heartbeat.
This tripped me up a little. I realize you were trying to illustrate that they were speaking at the same time, which is always really hard to write! If I may make one suggestion: one way to do this that has worked for me as a reader has been to keep the sentences in their own separate paragraphs, but write them as if they were being interrupted. For example:
“Let’s settle this tomorrow—”
“We’ll resolve this next time—”
And then continue with the narration you provided. Idk, just a thought! You do what you’d like!
A hiss and howl came together, then slowly waned. "Next week. Noon," Zangoose spoke quickly. "I'll beat you again, just like tonight." Though he'd never admit it, he wasn't quite sure he'd be ready for a fight if they did it tomorrow.
This was really nicely done, especially for just a casual little one-shot! I love the way you worked their rivalry into a competitive friendship, very believable and you achieved the friendship while still taking their rivalries into account. I’d totally read a series about these two!
[Prompt 2] Neat and Tidy (Neat freaks new Trubbish)
When Trubbish came, my life stank. But how could I get rid of her? Apparently, my great aunt (whom I barely knew) put in a "special request". She was retiring and some of her Pokemon had requested to find other homes. And to my dismay, my great aunt had apparently never stopped raving about about my job as a 'famous' gym trainer. (Thanks, Aunt.)
I wasn't even famous. I just happened to get a job there because me and Salandit were a good team. Sure, there's only two proficient Poison gyms in all of- well, anywhere. And yes, using a Salandit in battle was unusual, as was the rest of my team - a Swalot and a Haunter. But that doesn't mean I was looking to get saddled with a Trubbish.
'What's the big deal', you ask?
I'll tell you what the issue is.
There's no way I am letting a smelly trash hoarder in my house. My house is clean. And I prefer to keep it that way. What am I gonna do with a Trubbish who wants nothing but to probably eat tons of trash? And furthermore, what Trubbish would want to live in my home?
Yet Trubbish insisted it wanted to join me.
After the first day I was ready to call it quits. For both our sakes. Sal, Rumble and Spectra were all ok with how I liked to keep my house. This Trubbish, however didn't seem at ease at all. She would wander about the house, looking uneasy, and I would follow. Mostly to make sure she didn't mess anything up. My meticulously organized bookshelf, my spice cabinet, or my perfectly cleaned floors.
I let her explore a bit. Then we did some training, which she seemed to enjoy. She was tough, and eager to give it her all. During her practice match against Sal she showed off all her moves, in some creative ways. Maybe she wanted to impress me? But battle skill or not, I wasn't sure what I was supposed do with her. My house is perfect. What could I possibly give her?
At lunch, she barely ate. I tried to prepare her different pokemon foods and berries, but she only picked at them. I tried every flavor I could think of too, but she just seemed listless. I was aware many poison and grass types synthesized energy different than say, a fire-type, so they didn't eat as often. But she couldn't possibly eat nothing. And I was sure she had to be at least a little hungry.
I offered to try and make her others foods but she declined, so I decided to give her space. Maybe she needed to settle in. Although she emitted a faint musky odor, which meant she didn't trust me and she wasn't happy. But what on earth was I supposed to do? I wasn't going to turn my house into a dump.
That night, I began my usual routine of preparing dinner. As I did, I mulled over my issue. Trubbish still looked like she felt uncomfortable. A odor lingered in the air around her, though she'd gone outside to play with Sal for a bit (To my relief). How could I get her to be happy though? We just weren't a good match.
If Trubbish stayed, she would no doubt be miserable. Maybe it would be best to make her leave now, even if it would disappoint her. The thoughts continued to plague my mind as I opened my fridge to get out some Tamato berry sauce.
Mind still running, I opened one of the drawers to discover a head of lettuce that I bought over two weeks ago. Muttering under my breathh, I plucked out the moldy lump.
Now, there's many things I am extremely good at. Apparently remembering to use up the lettuce isn't one of them. I can't help myself. I always mean to use it, I do! But then I just forget. Everything else I keep perfect. My entire fridge is beautifully organized and cleaned. But I always forget that head of lettuce, tucked in the crisper at the bottom of my fridge.
With a grimace, I turned to throw it into the trash, then stopped. A spiderweb of realizations wrapped around my brain, and I took the lettuce outside to where Trubbish was. She was staring off into the sky, looking rather contemplative.
"Hey."
Trubbish perked up and turned around at the sound of my voice. I kept the lettuce hidden behind my back for the moment, despite how squeamish it made me feel. "I..." I paused, trying to compose my thoughts for what I was about to say.The words stuck in my throat for a second, but I knew I needed to say them. "Ruby, I owe you an apology."
It was the first time I dared speak her name. I hadn't wanted to, I hadn't want to give her false hope she could stay.
Ruby trilled softly, the odd ear-like tufts on her head twitching.
"I was afraid to have you on my team. I like my house, I like things to stay the way they are. When you arrived..." I glanced around. "I guess I assumed every Trubbish was the same. That every Trubbish liked messy enviroments."
I chuckled. "Truth is, I was sure that a Trubbish could only get along with someone messy, and I didn't see how you could enjoy being here."
I withdrew the gross lettuce head from behind my back and set it down. Despite how serious I was, the idea of a moldy lettuce as a peace offering was funny.
"But I think the messiness isn't the issue, is it?" I watched her carefully. An eager twinkle sparkled in her eyes and she nodded slowly. "I just assumed I knew everything about you. If you're okay with how I like to keep my house, I think I can let you have my lettuce heads, hows that sound?"
Trubbish picked up the moldy lettuce, examined it, then churred happily. She began to eat it in several surprisingly dainty yet eager bites. A sigh of relief escaped my lips as I watched her polish off the last piece and smile.
A faint scent, like lavender and warm vanilla, drifted through the air.
In retrospect, there's themes and stuff I would have made clearer, though this was mostly for fun. it started as being about this gym trainer girl learning that her house isn't perfect and she's not perfect, but in the end I tried to make it about assumptions. Ruby actually doesn't mind the house but she feels like she isn't trusted or understood yet, which by the end of the story, they find their happy ending.
Small gestures count for something, and finding a way to coexist is the end point, as well as not assuming why someone is upset.
The idea of a Trubbish exuding lavender smells is hilarious to me, but any who a really nice one shot! Cute how even the MC calls out how despite all the poison types in the series there's only 2 gyms for them and 1 elite. A very concrete story. Sufficient backstory and explanation without being boring. Everything was just the right length for a nice little one shot.
Murderous screeching and yowling broke the humid night air, punctuated by furious hisses in between. If one listened enough, the noise almost sounded like a feral symphony, as if twenty wild pokemon were locked in combat, dancing around each other in concert.
In reality, only two pokemon fought.
Moonlight glinted off a Seviper's blade as it slashed at a Zangoose. Snarling, Zangoose danced backwards before launching himself at his opponent and swiping, claws fully extended. The tips grazed Seviper's scales. Zangoose caught a glimpse of Seviper's crimson eyes flashing with smug satisfaction as it twisted around the attack.
Zangoose landed, sides heaving and limbs trembling. A few yards away, Seviper returned his body to a cautious coil, tongue flickering rapidly and its skin pulsing with each rapid heartbeat.
Seviper's eyes narrowed and flicked its tail. "Time to leave, hairball."
"Did you get so turned around you've got things backwards?" Zangoose retorted, fur fluffing. "Clearly I won. Law of combat says you scram."
The Seviper's eyes nearly bulged from his head. "The match was mine, rodent."
Tension crackled to life. Zangoose's body became rigid and Seviper uncoiled slightly, taking on a posture as if ready to fight. Yet both combatants showed exhaustion, despite their attempts to mask it. As if it took great effort to do so, both relaxed slightly. Slightly.
"Let's settle this tomorrow-"
"We'll resolve this next time-"
Both spoke at nearly the same moment, voices overlapping. Instantly they flared up again. How dare the other suggest such a notion!
"Fine! Midnight," Seviper spat the words, stabbing his blade into the air for emphasis.
Zangoose's mouth contorted and he seemed to have trouble speaking, as he had to force himself to speak. To think he had to agree with this this... "Then you'll taste defeat. Midnight."
The two lingered, neither willing to leave first, until with a maddened huff, they both whipped around and raced into the night.
xXx
A new chorus of combat began at midnight the following night. In true form, the concert lasted well into the night, until both parties were truly exhausted, battered and worn. Yet neither backed down.
"Not bad. For a spineless reptile," Zangoose sneered.
Seviper chortled. "Never knew rats could put up a fight."
A hiss and howl came together, then slowly waned. "Next week. Noon," Zangoose spoke quickly. "I'll beat you again, just like tonight." Though he'd never admit it, he wasn't quite sure he'd be ready for a fight if they did it tomorrow.
"Again?" Seviper rose up, fangs bared. "Don't lie to yourself. Tonight I won." He paused. His gaze never showed it, but relief flickered through him. Two nights in a row left him winded. Not because his opponent was good of course. Only because he'd wanted to prove how much better he was, of course. "But if you want to lose twice, be my guest."
Once again, the two split with great reluctance, vowing defeat and humiliation on the other.
xXx
"Not bad. For a belly crawling reptile," Zangoose hissed.
Seviper coiled into a smug circle, raising his head to look down upon Zangoose. "Who knew four legged mon could put up a fight. You might be able to beat a baby Seviper."
A pause. Anger permeated the air.
"Two nights from now. To prove once and for all who the winner is." Seviper declared.
Zangoose's tail twitched, but he stilled it. He'd been about to suggest they fight again two nights from now, to show up the worm. Whatever. "It's your funeral."
xXx
"Hah! I'm almost impressed," chortled Seviper. He smiled, a little mockingly, then his gaze turned serious and sneering.
Zangoose stood, folding his arms. "The least pathetic display I've seen from a Seviper in awhile."
Seviper's tail wound in slow circles. "Of course, I was going easy on you."
"I barely even tried," Zangoose replied snorting.
For a moment, neither moved, both seemingly relaxed. Then in near perfect sync, they brandished claw and blade, taking up combat stances.
Zangoose dropped to all fours, digging his claws into the dirt. "How about I show you how weak you really are. Dusk. Four nights from now, I'll destroy you."
Seviper smiled. "Did I hit you too hard on the head? I'm looking right at the only weak one here."
"Then you must be staring into a mirror!"
Seviper hissed, and Zangoose hissed back, feeling quite pleased with himself.
xXx
Two definitely sworn enemies faced each other, tired, angry and maybe a little impressed. They glared, gazes never wavering. Another tie. Though if you'd asked Zangoose, he would have insisted he'd won. Seviper would have said much the same.
"Tomorrow!" they growled in unison. With matching huffs of annoyance, they once again turned away and stormed off. Thought, for a brief moment, both paused a few yards away and discreetly glanced back, only to catch the other doing the same. They shot each other dirty looks and left.
xXx
" I have to say," Zangoose said, between pants. "I admire you." He took another breath. Dang. He'd still not managed to land a sound victory yet. This Seviper really was good. "Admire the way you love losing."
"And I'm impressed at the way you are so talented." Seviper stuck his tongue out at Zangoose. Of all the Zangoose he'd fought, this one was perhaps the most skilled. "Talented at lying to yourself.
Both paused.
"There's only one way to settle this then," Seviper said, continuing. He hoped the Zangoose was on the same page as him. Not that it mattered. He didn't care. At all.
"Another fight?" Zangoose said, smirking. Somewhere beneath, a real smile lingered.
"Only to prove once and for all." Seviper said, restraining the excitement from his tone.
xXx
Any who lived or passed through that area of Hoenn's forests spoke of the constant cries of combat, of two pokemon who no doubt hated each other's guts and fought day or night to prove it. Two pokemon, determined to defeat the other. Researchers insisted that over months of observation, it was the same two pokemon, always fighting. A decades long territorial dispute, they theorized. Perhaps an ancient and fierce family rivalry.
If one was particularly observant however, they might note how this Zangoose and Seviper seemed to take delight in their sparring, as if it were a game. They would dance through combat ritualistically, neither giving ground, yet at the end of each fight, (which was always a tie), they seemed much more pleased then times when others of their species would fight each other.
One researcher posited a theory that the two had actually become friends through their fights, and met not to win, but to just hang out under the pretense of combat.
That researcher was immediately dismissed and written off as crazy.
Inertia Matsumodo gazed at the assortment of pokemon before her. Espurr, Reuniclus, Drowzee, Abra, and even a Munna and Ralts. A Chingling in the back, along with a Gothita. There was even a single Sigilyph among the group, which was surpising. Her parents had really gone all out. All pokemon who agreed to come, to join her. All psychic type. It was only proper after all, her parents had said. As a psychic herself, they'd explained how there would come a time for her to have her own companion. And she'd been so excited to finally find on a companion of her own.
Her mother smiled, brushing a strand of hair behind her ears. "Well, Inertia? Gothita here is quite powerful, she's the granddaughter of one of Sabrina's Alakazam you know."
"Uh huh," Inertia muttered. She let her gaze drift over the assembled pokemon once more, and they all stared back, waiting. She let her mind brush briefly against theirs, in a sort of mental 'hello', to which she received various sorts of replies. A sigh escaped her lips. From the corner of her eye she saw her father frown and felt disapproval rumble through his thoughts.
"I just need time," she muttered. She let her thoughts recede, walling her mind off. None of the pokemon here really caught her attention, not that she wanted to tell her parents that. They'd worked hard to search all around for psychic types, who could often be particularly picky. "Can I take a break?"
Her parents shared a knowing glance, and she didn't need to use any of her psychic powers to understand that one. She held back a groan.
"Very well."
As fast as she could, she hurried out of the room and out the door. Her steps led her out of her house and towards the rocky hills of her favorite spot, Route 9. To most, the Route seemed like nothing but a rough path. A jagged series of canyons and rockys outcroppings just outside Ambrette Town. But to her, they felt like a solace.
In no time at all, she found herself wandering amongst the hills, her feet walking mostly on instinct through paths known only to her. She hadn't gone far before a presence, or rather a group of presences, rattled at the edge of her senses. She frowned. Most of the pokemon here she knew, and knew her, but these minds felt unfamiliar. Chaotic. They buzzed and rumbled, their minds filled with fleeting busts of anger. Her steps slowed and she took a more cautious approach.
As she started up a slope, she began to hear sharp screeches and shrieks, like great group of pokemon. What on earth was out here making this much noise? When she reached the top she paused and took in the situation. A writihing mass of cream colored fur whirled about several yards below, half obscured by dust.
After a moment, she recognized them. A massive colony of Mankey, at least fifty strong, judging by how many consciousnesses she felt. That explained the ruckus. Mankey were notoriously tempermental pokemon. They seemed to all be scampering about, wrestling and fighting one another. The pleasant buzz of their angry minds drew Inertia in, so she found herself a comfortable spot and sat down to watch.
The minutes slipped by as she watched them tussle, a delightful distraction compared to what lay waiting for her back home. She hadn't been watching for long when she felt a presence rapidly draw near. Her heart rate spiked and she spun to her right just in time to see a Mankey charging towards her, eyes blazing and fur puffed out.
It lunged at her, a wild shriek echoing from its mouth.
On instinct she scrambled back stretched out with her mind, pushing back with a wave of psychic energy that sent the Mankey tumbling back a few feet. It stood, then shook itself, eyes still glinting like hot coals. She could feel his mind easily, thanks to its proximity. Anger buzzed through his thoughts, mixed with notes of curiosity. For several seconds, he didn't move.
She stared back, taking him in. He had the usual cream coloration of a Mankey, save for darker streaks of fur around his eyes, and the fur around his arms and legs being a slight shade darker. Behind his anger and beneath his curiosity, she sensed something else. Confusion.
Maybe...
'Hey. Sorry if I disturbed you guys, but I don't want to fight.'
He blinked. 'You must.' There was a definitive sense to his thoughts, as if he were stating a simple fact, such as the color of the sky.
'What do you mean, I must?'
Mankey gestured to her with a sharp jab. 'Isn't it obvious? When you're angry, you fight. Then you feel better.'
Inertia frowned and tilted her head. 'I'm not angry. And why would I fight even if I was?'
'That's why we fight.' He pointed to the valley below, still full of fighting Mankey and a few Primeape, although now they seemed to be calming slightly. 'I fight brother Mankey's when I'm angry, and then I don't feel angry. I felt anger up here, so I thought you wanted to fight.'
Now that was a new one. 'What do you mean you felt anger?' She leaned forward and rested her chin on her hands.
'You're angry' came his planitive reply. 'I can literally feel it. I guess I can tell better than most other pokemon, since a lot of us spend a lot of time irritated. You feel mad about something, so I came up here to fight you. Then you'll feel better.'
Inertia snorted, a sharp laugh erupting from her. I can believe that you might be able to sense it better than other pokemon but. She shrugged. 'I'm just not angry.'
'Liar'
"Excuse me!?" she snapped. Blinking, she looked down to see she'd clenched her fists. As if realizing what she'd done, she paused and sat back.
Hah! I was right, You are angry. If you never let you anger out you're gonna die. Or go blind. Hm. Or maybe attack your friends in a wild frenzy. I know, I saw one of the Primeape's do it once. Never fought, never sparred, one day she just up and died. He paused. Or maybe it was because she was old, I don't know. Anyways, are you ready to fight me now?
The Mankey's words rattled in her head for several seconds. She wasn't angry, she was sure of it. Yeah, her parents sometimes frustrated her, but they only wanted what was best. And maybe she didn't like that they kept pressuring her to find a psychic type partner. Just because she was a psychic didn't mean she should be forced to find a partner who was. But she also didn't want to hurt their feelings by telling them she felt like they were forcing her down a path she'd never wanted. And sure, every time they brought the topic up she felt ticked off, agitated. But it was fine, she was fine.
After all, it was just a matter of finding a Pokemon she connected with. Who cared if the fact that they only wanted her to find a psychic type positively drove her up the wall? If being in the same room with her parents left her agitated, and she always took the soonest opportunity to leave? Just because she felt like cornered and silenced to go down a path she didn't even want didn't mean anything. She was just a little miffed. And a little annoyed. Maybe frustrated. It was just so infuriating!
Her thoughts ground to a halt. Darn it.
That Mankey was right.
You... might have a point. She relayed the thought with great reluctance.
Mankey snorted. Duh. You still wanna have a fight then?
She chuckled and shook her head. No, not right now. Besides, I think you'd win. But maybe there's someone else I need to fight.
Suit yourself. Later then. And with that, the Mankey barreled down the hill to rejoin the group.
I did it.
Once again, I sat on the hill outside my town, watching the group of Mankey. The same one as before sat next to me, picking away at a berry. The sun was just beginning to set and the Mankey had mostly settled, collapsed on one another in little heaps all around the valley, exhausted after a day sparring.
You fought your birthgivers? Did you beat em?
Parents, I corrected. And it wasn't like that. I mean. I accidentally yelled a little. And my mom did too. But I told them how I was angry, and why. How did didn't want to be forced to train a certain kind of pokemon.
Mankey took another bite of the berry, then seemed to consider it for a moment before cramming the rest into his mouth and chewing.
But did you win?
I smiled, the memory of last night's 'discussion' still fresh in my thoughts. Yeah, I guess so. I felt better now, to say the least. It took awhile but... I think they don't mind now. I guess they never really considered training other types of pokemon, and honestly I never told them. They just wanted to make sure I could have any psychic type I wanted was all.
Now what?
"I guess I get to choose whoever I want..." I mused out loud, gazing at the last fading ways of the sun.
Sweet. Can I come?
My mouth dropped and I turned to stare at him. What?
Might be fun to join a trainer. He narrowed his eyes. If you let me battle a lot. You ain't gonna torchic out on me right? I hear that pokemon who join trainers get super tough. Saw it happen to one of my squadmates. Came back as a giant Primeape who would beat most of us with once punch.
For a moment, I was too stunned to speak. I considered carefully for a few moments. If I took my journey and became a trainer like I wanted, there'd be plenty of battles. And I really really liked the company of this Mankey. I owed him a thanks. A wry grin spread across my face. A psychic, training a fighting type. Who ever heard of such a notion?
I accept.
Gaaahhh. Please be gentle with this piece. I know I accidentally tense changed in the end, and the writing probably feels stiff or awkward.
The original concept was about a psychic trainer who uses fighting types instead of only psychic types. Hence Mind and Body. After some playing around I vomited this mess out. First I began with the intent of a trainer who would meet a Mankey and help it overcome its anger. But then halfway there, I switched gears to make Inertia the one with the anger issue, denying to herself she had a problem. Meeting Mankey would change her outlook, and she would come to learn that holding your anger and frustration in can hurt you and others. I wanted to display this theme in a natural way but I think I failed.
Anyways I had fun making this anyway. It was done in about three hours, and with basically no planning.
Please keep all this in mind when offering any kind of crit. I also really could use some encouragement sprinkled in the crit, if there's even anything good about this piece. My mind I really scattered so I can't actually tell if this totally sucks or its decent. I really would like an honest opinion though, does this one shot suck? idk
Thanks a bunch anyways, and any feedback is still welcome.
It's a fun concept! One thing I think does come across quite well is the way the narrator is looking for an excuse to show that Trubbish isn't the right fit for her and her team. The narrator comes across as the sort of person who has made up her mind already, and isn't (initially) willing to consider opening their mind to consider other alternatives. The hostility of the narrator, and the unease of the trubbish, also come across well.
The part you mention in your author's notes about showing that the narrator thinks her house is perfect, but coming to realize that she also has some imperfection and mess, is something that (based on the author's notes) I can see in sort of an embryonic form, and it seems like it would be an interesting angle to explore if you were to do some more with this story.
The way that Trubbish's scent changes based on her mood is also intriguing. It's just sort of touched upon a bit when the narrator is explaining the musky odor, but the change from a musky scent to a plesant one based on her happiness is an intriguing concept (and also a good win-win for the Trubbish and the narrator). And maybe, since Trubbish is a trash bag and consumes things like rotting cabbages, she might actually enjoy tidying up!
Hello am offering cat and nip. I'm thinking I'd like to come back and say things about the other 2, but in the meantime I've got a review of Blade and Claw for ya:
Aww, I love them. The first thing that stood out to me was the the description of the fighting was great. I find it amusing how, even though each match is a difference distance apart, they keep thinking of the exact same times for the next match to be. They're so in-sync.
I'm having trouble putting this exact thought into words, but the way the dynamic between the two of them plays out is very... "pokemoncore?" I mean, they become friends through fighting, both becoming the better for their going up against each other. It feels like a natural outcome of the sort of worldbuilding that the series sets up. Why wouldn't they become friends, after all? Everyone else does when they fight.
(This is probably more of a preference thing than anything else, but I think it might look a little cleaner with the horizontal rule over xXx thingies. I'm not entirely sure about that, though.)
Hello, I am back! Been in a real funk regarding my feelings about my ability to do reviews but I still want to review the other 2 here.
Neat and Tidy:
A bold statement about the capitalist society we live in, wherein every store packacges to bloody much of everything in one package to trick you into paying for food you won't eat. (Okay, I'm kidding, but also is that a real problem other people have, too? Keeps happening to me.)
At a surface it's a cute little story and I like it, but with Ruby unable to speak, I find myself wondering what she's thinking through the whole story. I wonder if the cleanliness of (how did I not notice the protagonist doesn't have a name until now)the protagonist's house was reason why Ruby insisted on staying with them. We never really get told why she insists on staying, but the unease, easily attributed to the statement that trubbish normally like messy environments had me thinking that was part of the issue on the first look-over... But now I'm wondering if that's not really the case. Maybe the unease just came from it all being new.
Okay, uhh, yeah, sounds like that wasn't as ambiguous as I was maybe feeling it was I'm a little dense, okay?
My dense skull aside, it's still interesting to think about Ruby's perspective in all this.
Anger Point:
Hey, this protagonist has a name! And it's... Inertia? Heh, odd name. Maybe it's 'cause, like, she's resistant to the forces that would move her towards psychic-type partners? Eh? Is that the reason? I feel like it's a very fitting name for a reason I can't quite put my finger on, but whatever that unplaced reason is, it amuses me greatly.
I wonder why Inertia needs to lie to her parents about her just needing a break, Has she not put her finger on the reason why she's not clicking with any of the psychics yet, or does she not trust her parents enough to be honest?
I like thinking it's the latter. Parents sound real rude given the fact talking to them requires quotes to hedge the word "discussion." But also she admits she never really thought about training other types, so I guess both interpretations are equally valid. (I feel like there's an art joke in here somewhere But I can't find it.)
The mankey is, for the record, cute. I like how they get Inertia to admit she's angry. I wanna give em a hug but I'd probably get punched.
Aw, bless. The best of friends, two complete dumbasses, two complete dickheads. Wonderful.
This one was really charming, honestly. The back and forth pattern, the way the dialogue kept mirroring and repeating, didn't feel dull, but more like a fable or parable, you know? Anyway, how delightful that they ritually beat each other up. The note at the end about research felt a little tacked-on, but I see what you were going for.
I want to love this moment, and it's a really lovely description and I love how the story was resolved... buuuuuuuut this really needed elaboration. There a whole missing paragraph you didn't write at this point where the trainer connects the dots. Don't get me wrong, the story was still really cute, and I'm starting to love how you write flawed viewpoint characters, and Trubbish was fucking adorable. I just feel like the actual cognitive process behind the viewpoint character's realisation is skipped! Ah, well.
I really enjoyed the vibe here and also I knew exactly where this was going and was super pleased about it. What a great concept, being chilled out from the psychic feedback from dozens of pissed off apes.
This is delightful, I really love when people have this take on wild 'mon seeing trainers as a kind of vocational opportunity.
This last drabble was my favourite. I adored the concept of a trainer from a traditionally psychic family just wanted to go Ape Shitt and get real mad with a fighting type starter. Thoroughly delightful, and Mankey is just the best furious little gremlin creature with a high wisdom stat.
These were a delight. Thoroughly unpolished, I grant, but I didn't care. I was too busy being absolutely charmed.
Still (very slowly) working through anniversary bingo fills. You had a really fun theme to work with, and I enjoy the different places you took the prompts!
Zangoose and seviper is a classic rivalry, and this story makes a good opener to the series. I always enjoy characters furiously insisting on something that's obviously the exact opposite of what they feel, so this one had a lot to offer me, heh. It's a neat spin on the old "mortal enemies" deal: if pokémon build bonds through battle, then the species perpetually at each others' throats would have to be the closest of all, wouldn't they? In this one, I almost feel like I'd like to see a bit of the fights themselves--I'd like to get a sense of what these pokémon see in each other and how battling draws it out of them. As it was, I didn't feel like I necessarily got a good handle on the actual personality of these two, besides general haughtiness, or why they're so attracted to each other. Getting a better sense of what draws these two together would really elevate this story for me.
Trubbish always manages to be so cute in fic, even though I don't have a ton of interest in them otherwise. Works great with the prompt, and I liked that the narrator had to recognize their own imperfection here, and exactly why the trubbish bothered them so much (just a hint of externalization, eh?). I was a little unclear on why the trubbish was so adamant on staying with the narrator, despite the two of tem being so out of step. Perhaps she could sense a bit of that "messiness" that the narrator was trying to deny?
The third one-shot is probably my favorite. It's interesting that, rather than simply being about punching things, the mankey here are really more in touch with their feelings to contrast with the psychics' focus on thought. As well as punching things, naturally. The catharsis of anger and conflict here is a really interesting direction to take the prompt, but also one that makes a lot of sense. Sometimes you've just got to stop repressing those feelings, Hulk out, and try to beat the tar out of somebody. An echo of the first one-shot, thematically, but the characters landed better for me here. Mankey is such an underappreciated pokémon; glad to see it get some love here!
What I probably most enjoyed across all these one-shots were the small details and bits of worldbuilding that you slipped in around the edges. Bits like the fact that trubbish smell different depending on how they're feeling, or what it actually feels like to sense others' emotions, make these stories feel like they come from places that actually exist rather than a fictional world. All in all these one-shots were full of life and played very well with your chosen theme. Nice work!
You know its funny you say the third one is your favorite because I was worried it was my worst one! But I guess the characters actually shine through in ways in the third one better! Thank you for the advice on the first one. I actually thought the first one was my best but maybe I misconstrued it! Perhaps on the unlikely chance I rewrote these I'd see if I could add extra characterization to their fights. My main focus at the time was just having fun with the dialogue but there's lot of room to expand even further.
As for the Trubbish one, if I ever rewrote that, I would make it clearer that part of the reason Trubbish chose her is because the protagonist was clean. This Trubbish was one who actually enjoys order and cleanliness to a degree so when they heard about protagonist (gosh I shoulda named her) thats one of the reasons they wanted to meet her.
Unfort, silly protag assumed Ruby was just a trash gremlin! Part of the realization would have been her not making an assumption without checking with Ruby properly. In her mind she'd already assumed what Ruby would like!
Mostly like I won't rewrite these, but Inertia is a character I absolutely expect will turn up in my other stories, since she's one of my OC trainers. A psychic who wants to train fighting types.
Anyways, thanks for the review, you've given me some good thoughts to chew on for future writing!
A freak accident throws Drake into dark circumstances...
One moment, all is well. The next, the earth under his feet is gone. Drake flailed, his screaming echoing through the cave before being swallowed by chilling water. The cold shocks like electricity. His chest locks and his mouth opens against his will. Water rushes into his nose and throat and lungs. Burning, like fire and ice all at once.
Thrashing does nothing but he does it anyway, clawing for safety, for reprieve.
Nothing.
Head over heels the deathly river carries him, until up and down are lost concepts and the moments seem to stretch. As they do, in the fleeting coherence between panic and despair, he wonders.
Wonders about the paths he failed to take, or if he even could have gone another route in life. Wonders if Marcel was right that hope always remained, at the end of everything. Or was life like this river, and he was doomed to be dragged to his end, unable to escape himself?
CRACK
His shoulder strikes rock, he screams bubbles. His air is gone, darkness descends and he lets it—
Air, fresh sweet air, blossoms around his face. His hand catches solid ground and he grabs for all he can, fighting the current, fighting the fear. And he pulls.
For a long time he lies still on the cold ground, shivering. Shaking. He can still hear the river just a foot away. Death, just a foot away. Yet he was alive.
Eventually, he rose, shaking still, to look around.
Pitch dark greeted him, and for a moment, he couldn't breathe, and his heart thudded erratically in his chest. Pressing his palms to the stone beneath him, he steadied himself, then looked around again. Nothing. He may as well have been a Zubat for all he could see.
He was alone.
So deep underground, no light could reach. No hope (for rescue). The Salandit and the Krokorok he carried were somewhere, perhaps miles away further up. So far from home. A pang struck his heart. Marcel. Athos. The Swords. Phenac. Even if someone noticed, no one would come.
He laughed, his voice echoing emptily through the darkness. The irony. He was right under Orre, but he'd probably never see it again.
So much for 'hope always remained'.
Shivering, he lay down on the hard stone, and let his mind drift into the darkness.
Time passed, but how much he couldn't tell. His shoulder ached, but he gave it little mind. It wouldn't matter eventually. Once, he yelled into the abyss, but was greeted with echoes descending into deafening silence. He decided that felt more unnerving than doing nothing, and fell silent. At least the faint noise of the river broke it, though not much. It seemed the stretch he'd escaped from was one where the current lessened.
Once, he got up to check the cavern, feeling around inch by inch, but found so many branching tunnels that he ended up sitting back down. Eventually, he would have to pick one. But not yet. Or maybe doing nothing felt less worse than choosing wrong.
He laid back down again. Sleep came, in fleeting fits. Dreams of darkness, only to wake to the nightmare of a worse reality. Still, at least sleep gave him reprieve from the cold, painful misery of consciousness...
He shot upright after dozing off, suddenly aware of how the chill had crept into his bones. He scanned the cavern again, and saw the sluggish river, the dull gray of his rocky prison—
He saw.
For a moment, a horrible fear rushed through him that he would wake up once more to darkness. Blinking, he rubbed his eyes and then pinched his arm. A faint, warm glow came from a tunnel.
A shout came from him before he could even think, then he scrambled to his feet, rushing toward the light. The light grew brighter, as did the fear underneath that perhaps this was all a cruel dream—
From the tunnel ahead, a small dark shape emerged.
A Salandit, fire sacs aglow, and a Krokorok.
Dizzying delight surged through Drake. He found himself on his knees, reaching out to them, to his pokemon. Salandit broke into a skittering sprint and Drake all but grabbed him, shaking from the cold, ignoring the dampness from his cheeks dripping and sizzling as they touched Salandit's warm body.
The tiny reptilian's claws digging into his cold chest felt like pure bliss. His shaking slowed with his racing heart.
After an eternity, he swallowed and rose to his feet, still holding his Salandit. He offered a nod of thanks to Krokorok, who shrugged as if to say 'It was nothing'. Even so he saw the prideful glint of satisfaction and appreciation in his gaze.
Hope flickered in his chest. "You know the way out?"
Still clutching onto Drake and radiating warmth and light, Salandit nodded. Krokorok gestured the way they'd come. A weary smile crossed Drake's face and he found himself taking in the cavern a final time, and the river that brought him here, then at his two pokemon.
Perhaps some things weren't set in stone.
He ran his hand over Salandit's head, basking in the warmth.
Lost in the desert after a fight, Hana is torn between remorse and anger.
"Raga..."
The words died before they could leave Hana's throat. The last of her water had run out hours ago. Just like Raga. Her throat was parched and hoarse from calling out ages ago, with no response.
Bitter anger surged up in her throat as she stumbled up yet another dune, panting. If worst came to worst, she could ask Laguna for help, but the Milotic hated the sand and Hana would prefer to spare her if possible.
At the peak, she stopped, ever grateful for the tinted goggles shielding her eyes from the harsh sun. Endless desert sprawled before her, broke only by what might have been distant rocky canyons. She craned her neck to scan the skies as well and saw nothing. Or at least, nothing green.
Silently, Hana cursed the situation. If only... She shook her head. No. She refused to dwell on the argument- discussion earlier with Raga. Fine. If she wanted her space, she could have it.
Hana scanned the horizon again. Her eyes caught on a flicker of a shape a few dunes ahead and her eyes widened. Raga?
She lunged down the slope and towards the figure, half sliding down the dune. I'm sorry, I didn't mean it, please can we just go back to the way things were- She crested the next, smaller, dune and stopped. The hazy figure of Raga had moved back several yards. Hana's heart sank, all thoughts of apologies slipping away like the grains of sand beneath her.
At the peak of a mountain, a dangerous storm forms as two forces clash. What does it take to stop a legend?
The forest's jagged branches creaked unnaturally overhead, stirred by a wind he couldn’t feel. Snow gathered around Koa’s boots and swirled around him, muffling the sound. Shivering under his thick jacket, Koa trekked ever upward.
Slowly, the leaf bare trees thinned as he approached the summit of the small mountain. To think only a week ago the mountain had been in the depths of fall; crimson and vermillion hued leaves covering the trees and blanketing the earth. Now only white stretched as far as the eye could see.
A haunting avian cry broke the muffled silence, halting Koa in his tracks. Chills raced down his spine. He swallowed and gazed upwards, at the dark shadow moving amongst the gray clouds. Despite how far off the shape was, its wingspread seemed to envelop the sky. It was too far off to see, but he knew what awaited him.
Articuno.
Driven mad by something, rampaging at the peak of the mountain and bringing a terrible snowstorm on it, transforming it from a mild chilly peak to what lay before him. Maybe if he could just reach it, find out what had caused this, he could help.
The trees fell away entirely as he approached the very summit. Above, Articuno circled endlessly, its icy blue plumage glistening against the backdrop of white and gray. It looked even larger up close than he imagined.
Before he could take another step, a distant rumble shook the sky. The atmosphere shifted in an instant. Koa’s hair stood on end and chills and tingles shot down his spine and through his fingertips. Above, Articuno wheeled abruptly, beating the air with its wings and letting out an enraged shriek. The wind picked up, howling and swirling into a blizzard.
A terrible sound answered its cry; an awful cawing sound accompanied by ominous thunder. Lightning flashed somewhere high above, and the sky rumbled with muffled thunder. Black clouds gathered to the east, forming up fast. Unnaturally fast.
And then a yellow streak exploded from the cloud bank towards Articuno. Yellow and blue collided with a mighty thunderclap. An explosion of frost and electricity surged outward, knocking Koa to the ground.
Cursing, he scrambled unsteadily to his feet, his ears ringing as he gathered himself. His heart sank. Zapdos had arrived, the two birds were circling each other, ice and lightning dancing through their bodies, the air humming dangerously with energy. More thunder rumbled in the distance, and flashes of lightning danced through the snowy skies. As they weaved through the air, around each other, they moved ever slowly lower as they prepared to fight.
This was bad. They were going to fight, and at this rate it would consume not just the entire mountain, but everything below it as well. He had to stop them. Snap them out of their berserk states. Except his team couldn’t handle two enraged legends.
Koa knew what needed to be done. Almost in a trance, his hand went to his belt and settled on a ball. The ball. He thumbed it in his hand as he held it, ignoring the hammering of his heart, the knot in his throat. It felt heavy in his hands. It was time.
The only way to stop a legend was with his own.
Steely confidence surged through him and with a cry of defiance to the storm above, he tossed out the pokeball.
“Go!”
This was a fun hypothetical 'what if' that could take place after Legendary Adventures. I like to picture perhaps Koa might travel to other regions... What legendary does he have that he's going to send out?
Oh the imagery in this is so visceral, so palpable - just chef's kiss. The despair, the loss, the hopelessness fading into disbelief as his partners came to rescue him.... It tugged at my heart in the best ways possible. Absolutely love it!
Hana's own struggle is heart-wrenching. Definitely want to look into the attached work on that front now, but I did enjoy the bits that showcased the unique POV!
Once again, I must commend you for how well you setup the scene and tenseness in your prose. It really does feel like a battlefield between titans as Koa watches on left with no choice but to intervene and make it into a full on war zone. Thoroughly enjoyed reading these!
The cold shocks like electricity. His chest locks and his mouth opens against his will. Water rushes into his nose and throat and lungs. Burning, like fire and ice all at once.
First paragraph and we're already into the good stuff. You don't waste any time here, I love it! One thing these all had in common was that you really set the scene well, and the narration with little dialogue really worked in your favor!
Bitter anger surged up in her throat as she stumbled up yet another dune, panting. If worst came to worst, she could ask Laguna for help, but the Milotic hated the sand and Hana would prefer to spare her if possible.
No one is having a good time in any of these drabbles, apparently! (Good!) I love how Hana's over here, lost and dying in a desert, and refuses to ask her own pokemon for help just because she turned to the Dark Side hates sand. Oh, Hana...
It's moltres, it has to be, it completes the set, no reason it wouldn't, you only didn't write it cause fire wasn't in the prompt of course, I'm on to you
Had fun trying to go for exactly 100 words! Pokelantis probably isn't actually LA canon but it was fun to think about an older Koa going on missions to explore legends.
An ancient myth. A Ho-Oh, contained in a stone ball in a lost kingdom. Impossible.
Or so it was said. But Koa never believed in that word.
“I want the truth,” Koa murmured to Echo as he descended into the temple. Professor Dragonwood had uncovered a diary mentioning the legend of Pokelantis, and requested him to investigate, an offer Koa couldn’t refuse.
Down, down into the depths. Deep beneath the sea.
Hazard, his Joltik, lit the way. There, a stone pokeball. Curious.
Koa reached out. Hazard hissed and nipped his hand.
He stopped short.
“Good point, better not touch, huh?”
This was a fav to make the boi fuzzy! A Yeti/Snow Snorlax would be an amazing regional variant
Aaaa lots of fun here, bc I got to actually use a reference, and play around with a quick sort of impressionistic style.
