#bw/bw2 rewrite

[antihibikase2]

Pokemon Blur - Prologue : The Fool

In the lively city of Aspertia, there was a boy that dreamt of being a hero.

Divine dragons of Truth and Ideals, heed the prayers of a foolish heart.

Before we embark on this dangerous quest, shower us with your grace so that we may have a safe journey.

...

The coming of spring is where many dreams would blossom alongside the flowers- following a harsh winter, the people of Flocessy wasted no time in tending to their lands and ranches, eager to see what the rest of the year will bring.

"February was colder than other years," Muses the town mayor. "I hear it was as cold as Sinnoh on a hot day."

From behind her teacup, a blonde laughs.

"Yes! That's what I've been telling Professor Juniper! We're experiencing temperatures never before seen in Unova- I wonder why that is?"

"It's easy to chalk it up to the times, little lass-"

He leans over to refill her teacup.

"-but the youth of today isn't gonna take that for an answer."

"And why would we? If something's up, we ought to be the ones to figure out why; not when you old folks are sitting about."

The blonde's companion, a girl with a massive ponytail, speaks from the window- she does not join the other two in their warm conversation, content with merely listening and occasionally quipping in every now and then.

"You have a point there,"

The mayor laughs.

"Ah, it's good to see you haven't lost your spark, Hilda. Still as abrasive as ever- it's a shame you've taken a break from the subway, Emmet thinks you're a wildcard."

Hilda rolls her eyes- but her companion smiles even brighter.

"Oh, she's been a delight to have around! I make sure she gets plenty of training done even while she's acting as my bodyguard in the field,"

"Bianca,"

"Sorry, sorry- that's for another time!"

Bianca giggles, setting down her teacup and tapping her fingers against the book on her lap.

"It's really nice to catch up with you, Mr. Alder. It's been, um, two years?"

"Two years."

Though the hue of the leaves remain the same, the winds have changed- his guests remain as they have, but the light in their eyes are different.

And speaking of guests.

"Where's your other friend? He was here a few minutes ago, wasn't he?"

"He went out for some fresh air," Hilda replies. "He's taking his Pokemon for a walk."

"The ranch outside of town is lovely- he told me he spent a good quarter of last year's spring season over there."

Alder's mouth makes an "o" shape as he recalls.

"He did, he did- how has he been, by the way?"

For all that she's chatted about today, Bianca finds herself unsure of what to say.

Finally, she picks a word.

"Different-"

And as predicted, Hilda immediately adds "-but better than before."

That's all Alder could ask for- and it was far better news than what he was expecting.

"Okay, that's good. I admit, I wasn't sure what they were thinking when they told me they wanted him in this position, but-"

He glances at the framed picture on the wall- one of him with a group of four youths, wide-eyed and brimming with potential.

"Perhaps you kids can dream of things us grown-ups can't."

He himself hadn't lost the will to dream- but with the reality before him, he had to set aside certain expectations.

That's what it meant to be the Pokemon Champion after all.

An air of melancholy hovers over them as the conversation takes a more somber route- Bianca looks down at her teacup, smile still present, but stiffer than what it usually was.

And Hilda, looking outside the window, speaks up again.

"Guess we're gonna lose that ability soon in a couple of years, huh, Beebs?"

"Oh, hopefully not, Hilly- not with the research I've been doing."

Alder spots an opportunity to talk about something else- this quiet, tense atmosphere was something he didn't want in his house after all.

"Oh? Working hard with Fennel too?"

"You bet! Say, do you wanna know about the effects of Dream Mist- beyond what we know now?"

As the conversation picks up again, Hilda sighs, back leaned against the wall as she gazes out into the blue sky.

They had a few more hours to kill before they were expected to head to Aspertia- and it wasn't like she hated hearing Bianca's voice anyway.

...

"I'm all set, mom!"

She hears the excited footsteps clamoring downstairs, the clicking of plastic and jingling of bells- a collection of keychains.

She exits from her chores in the bathroom, removing her rubber gloves- and is horrified to see the atrocity standing before her.

"Bye bye! I'll make sure to give you a call!"

"Now, wait just a minute!"

She grabs him by the scruff of his jacket, just as he's about to pass by her- and stares incredulously.

In the home of Marianne Blake, things were in an uproar- the day had finally arrived, when her only son would receive a Pokemon of his own from an esteemed professor.

Or at least, the professor's assistant- she was quite a busy woman, she could not be blamed.

Such should be a cause for celebration- but here she was, arguing with her child before he even stepped foot outside.

"Anak, you can't be serious," Marianne takes a good look at him, head to toe.

"Why? What's wrong with it?"

"What- anak,"

She rubs her temples, sighing deeply.

"What even are you wearing? There's a spare backpack for you to use, a much more protective cap- and is that a rash guard you're wearing under your clothes?!"

"I might want to take a dip! You never know!"

"Nathaniel, you better not be leaving the house like that!"

Through the argument, the small boy grinned mischievously at his mother's exasperation, his little cat-smile never leaving his face.

"Crazy, because that's exactly what I'm going to do!"

"Nathaniel!"

"Mamaaaa, who cares what I wear out there? This classifies as acceptable travel gear, you know!"

"Just because it's acceptable- go change into something else before you're late!"

Now came his whine- and his Lillipup eyes.

"You're making me run late here! What will Ms. Alabaster say? That I kept my future partner waiting because I was busy coordinating my outfit?"

She opens her mouth to argue- but groans.

"Ugh, fine, fine. Do whatever you like. I suppose if you think that's fit for travel-"

She looks down at the worn pair of crocs.

"-but at the very least, take these."

Her son tilts his head like a confused dog, wondering what else she has to give besides an additional scolding- but to his surprise, she digs out a box from underneath the staircase.

"I was saving this for your birthday, but since your journey is starting today, you might as well make use of it now."

Opening the box, she reveals a pair of red running shoes, ankle-length- the same ones she knew her son had been eyeing.

"Happy early birthday, Nathaniel- now put these on and go look for Ms. Alabaster."

"Mamaaaaa, thank you!"

He wasted no time settling into his shoes, tapping them against the floor as he felt himself almost standing in the air.

They were a perfect fit.

"Now, remember what I taught you-"

"Yeah, yeah! I get it!"

He opens the screen door with a bang- and promptly terrifies his family's pet Delcatty and her Skitty, awakening them from their slumber.

"Be wise with money, avoid shady characters- and have fun!"

"And come home when you're lost," She reminds him. "If you can't find your way forward-"

"Then I'll retrace my steps back from square one!"

Looking up at the big blue sky, he felt the first page of his journey being written for historians to see.

"Just my style!"

Sprinting out of his house with a loud cheer, Marianne leans against the doorframe with a look of worry- one that quickly melts once she realizes who exactly she is being fussy over.

Still.

From the distance, she hears him yelling.

"Look out, world! Nate's gonna take you by surprise!"

"Dragons,"

She shakes her head.

"Please make sure he doesn't get himself in trouble."

...

The bell of Floccesy Town tolls, it's chimes echoing throughout the area.

The Mareep bleat at the sound, and nearby Riolu peer front underneath the tall grass.

From within a hidden grotto, a figure wrapped in a gray cardigan prays in the shade of the trees-

And a gust of wind overtakes them, as the nests of Pidove and Tranquil resting on the branches soar to the skies.

They cover their face, steadying their ground,

And the ribbon wrapped around their collar unravels, carried by the wind.

#bw/bw2 rewrite #bw2 arc

[antihibikase-archive]

Do we think maybe a little [ breaking out of the narrative cycle ] would cause less despair

#BW/BW2 Rewrite - Blur / Blight

[mhizzberryart]

An age-old rivalry.

Really proud of this one! Stills under the cut! 🔥⚡

#THIS HAS BEEN COOKING IN MY BRAIN SINCE REESE POSTED THAT DRABBLE OF THEM FIGHTINGGGG #ANYWAY HOPE U GUYS LIKE IT im rlly rlly proud of this one!! #first time doing a moving piece too!! #also the file was so big i had to compress it NJKSDNFJK #Mhizzy's Art #Pokemon #Pokemon Black & White #Pokemon Black & White 2 #Trainer Hilbert #Trainer Touya #Trainer Nate #Trainer Kyouhei #Pokemon Blight/Blur #Friends's OCs #<< kinda! theyre iterations of my friend's rewrite for BW/BW2 :] #Hilbert Blackburn #Nate Blake

[marchy-emmet]

An angsty Submas AU concept...?

... this is based around semi-realism and reality breaking, as well as possible Unova remakes, so bear with me.

[And I must warn you: This may need a huge CW for derealization / depersonalization. Read at your own risk.]

Ingo's character is... admittedly much more developed than Emmet's is -- which leads to the self awareness of Ingo as a character.

He begins in BW/BW2, as cheerful and normal as can be -- and then he is rewritten into Hisui as someone that's not quite the same but not quite different either. He's no longer subway boss Ingo -- he's warden Ingo.

BUT the likelihood is that in the next remake games, Ingo will be "rewritten" once again as a subway boss -- as if Hisui didn't even happen. He notices that Emmet simply speaks the same lines only when the protagonist triggers his dialogue -- so essentially, Emmet will not speak to Ingo, nor acknowledge that he has "returned" from Hisui.

This causes Ingo's awareness to break through the 4th wall essentially -- and a ton of strange occurrences hinting at Ingo's sentience begins within the remakes of Black and White.

He is confused, angry and afraid due to his back and forth toggle between a subway boss and a warden. To make things worse for him, Emmet's character hasn't developed enough for him to gain awareness -- so he's all alone with a brother he thought was real.

And so this leads to Ingo begging the player to help him out of this confusing identity blur when they visit the singles lines. He smacks his fists against the player's "screen", tears in his eyes, and his text box is faster than usual. It's now that the player can infer this isn't normal for a Pokemon game -- and that Ingo has truly gained awareness, and is suffering the distortion of living in multiple realities.

TLDR; The strange chain of rewrites in his character causes him to gain self awareness and essentially break the game's event triggers.

[I was cookin'... I was a-cookin', and now I'mma cookin' what the dialogue may look like. SO... you will inevitably see this concept return soon. VERY Ingo-centric AU, as Emmet won't be playing much of a role in it due to his lack of awareness.

And I'm very aware that this AU is very strange, but I am an oddball of a human, so it fits-]

#submas

[pokemon-blightblur]

🧶 Quick Guide to Blight / Blur

What is Pokemon Blight/Blur?

Blight/Blur is a rewrite of Pokemon BW and BW2 written by @antihibikase; Blight refers to BW (White, Upright), and Blur refers to BW2 (Black, Reversed). Blight/Blur and its arcs are named after the major and minor Arcana.

The story focuses specifically on Blur (BW2), as the events of Blight are explored through a series of flashbacks.

Where can I read Blight/Blur?

Currently, you can read the ongoing fic at ao3 or on tumblr.

ao3 : Pokemon Blight / Blur - Hero of Static

tumblr : bw2 arc

There are no differences between versions outside of spacing. The tumblr version is posted on my writing blog, @antihibikase2.

What is Blight/Blur about?

Blight/Blur follows the events of BW/BW2 with some changes- both protagonists are present, and Team Plasma's goal stretches beyond the supposed liberation of Pokemon and the eventual subjugation of the region.

There's larger emphasis on the legends; specifically, the dragon, the heroes, and the party that accompanied the heroes- as well as how these characters from the past affect the ones in the present.

Additionally, while characters from other generations/regions are specified, and may appear as major characters, Blight/Blur specifically only focuses on Unova's cast.

Currently, a masterpost is in the works; but you can find most of the things about the verse either in @antihibikase-archive (under the tag BW/BW2 Rewrite - Blur / Blight) or @antihibikase (under the tag blight/blur).

Are there any content warnings?

The main ones are death and religion- Blight/Blur has many religious themes (particularly catholicism) and symbolisms.

Additionally, certain drabbles written under the story's tags in my writing blog dabble into surreal imagery and dissociation.

Is everything in your main and/or writing blog canon to Blight/Blur?

Not necessarily! Some of them were written before Blight/Blur was changed/established, some of them are just dabbling in ideas that aren't part of canon, etc.

Additionally,

💌 I accept asks, inquiries, comments and the like, in both here and in my main!

🎨 All art in this blog is made by either @mhizzberryart or me!

#pokemon blight/blur #pokemon bw #pokemon bw2

[mhizzberry]

🍒Hello! I’m Mhizz/Mhizzy, 22 years old, she/her pronouns, Filipino-Thai, a-spec, and I’m just vibing on this webpage ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

I have a lot of hobbies and I draw (and handcraft) sometimes! You can check out some of my art on @mhizzberryart​!

I have a lot of interests that I switch focus on from time-to-time. But my current interests are:

Pokemon; specifically Pokemon BW/BW2, and I’m a part in my friend, @antihibikase​​‘s, rewrite for it (@pokemon-blightblur)!

Fantasy High; and other Dimension 20 series, like ACOFAF and D&DQ! Currently watching Junior Year. No spoilers please!

ALAMAT; listen. there’s something about them that itches my brain. I’m in love with their concept and how they incorporate Filipino culture and history into their songs, MVs, choreography, lyrics, and fashion 💯🔥🤎 (Barangay Hall dweller here, pero lagi akong tambay sa Purok Tres 🚀)

Vocaloid; I’ve been a fan since 2012! I’m moderately updated on new songs and what some well-known producers are up to :]

I’m also a college student taking BS Development Communication, so I’m a little busy and occupied x_x I also engage with posts about social issues, so I reblog stuff about that too.

That’s pretty much it for now! I hope whatever I bring to your dash brightens your day :D👍

#mhizzberry #mhizzy's words #introduction

[pnk-spiderr]

thinking of doing a little mini-rewrite of the pokespe bw & bw2 arc. i love the story and characters sm already so its nothing huge- it’s more rewriting small things like white’s involvement in the bw finale, and just adding a little more narrative cohesion to the story overall. if you want to ask me about it you can ig? idk

#pokespe #pokemon special #my ramblings

[notzilon]

muftiday replied to your post: I’ve been working my way through Ultra Moon and...

im pretty sure the game implies the pokemon are frozen alive?? thats how i always interpreted it, like being forced to forever be between life and death staring at this mad woman who obsesses over you, and i always imagined the pc was a place like its implied a pokeball is? if a pokeball has a comfortable environment for a pokemon to chill in the pc should too, and they have the company of the other pokemon right? especially with the poke pelago

I suppose at that point the ethics depend on if the frozen pokemon are conscious or not - if they are lucid, then it’s absolutely a hellish experience. If the crystal prisons function on modified pokeball technology where the pokemon are just on display but unable to move then yeah, it’s pretty horrific. From what I remember, her pikachu had closed eyed/seemed to be peaceful to me? But that doesn’t really mean anything. We frankly don’t know enough about them so interpretations depend on what side of Lusamine Discourse you fall on.

In terms of if pokeballs/PCs are a place - I think prior to SM it was only addressed in the anime/manga? All of Ash’s pokemon are kept on Oak’s ranch, and in the manga pokeballs are less a “place” as much as an easy way to transport your pets. In the games I believe the official line is that capturing a pokemon in a pokeball converts the animal into data that can be reconstituted at will, and the process of capture actively brainwashes/rewrites the pokemon’s behavior patterns to be obedient to their master. Which sounds really fucked up, but it’s just instant domestication. That’s why pokemon are loyal/follow your orders as soon as you catch them. I think SM was the first situation where your pokemon actually lived somewhere in-game? Prior to the Pelago, they’re just stored as data, which is why Lusamine makes a big deal out of trainers keeping collections, etc. I think it comes down to what you consider “canon” out of the games/anime/manga. (Note: my memory is garbage and I may have missed something in the other games, especially bc I pretty much skipped BW/BW2.)

#muftiday #replies

[antihibikase2]

Pokemon Blur - Chapter 2 : The High Priestess

At a ranch in Floccesy, a bleeding heart is found.

Divine dragons of Truth and Ideals, heed the prayers of a foolish heart.

Give us the strength to seek hope in despair, to unite when divided.

...

It was already nearing noon- but Bianca knew that she would have a long day ahead of her regardless, so she took what little rest she could in-between, savoring the quietness of the Pokemon Center; even in a far-away place like this, far from her home of Nuvema, there was at least someplace familiar.

The quietness doesn't last long, however- not when the shrill voice of a young girl rings through the air, disrupting the rest of the patrons.

"Hey, hey! You're miss Bianca Alabaster, aren't you?!"

Bianca readies herself mentally with a sip of her hot chocolate- this conversation could go two ways.

Either this was a young girl who had seen her league challenge two years ago, or she was one of those studious children that had taken note of Bianca's recent appearances in television as she climbed her way into the ranks of the scientific community for her recent discoveries.

No matter what, Bianca remained cordial- and forced a sweet smile on her lips as she lifted her head. "Oh, what can I do for-"

A hand is lifted out in front of her.

"You gave Natey a Pokedex, didn't you? I want one too!"

..or perhaps, it could go a third way.

"Rosa!"

A boy comes running in through the doors, bowing his head and apologizing to those he meets- and grabs the feisty girl by the ear, cheeks flushed red.

"Rosa, that's rude! I told you to wait until she came out!"

"Ugh, but she's taking forever! Hugh-"

Quickly, she assesses the scene happening before her; a girl with a pair of buns atop her head, a shiny new Xtransceiver on her wrist, and a hastily clasped Pokeball strap around the handle of her bag. The boy behind her, slightly taller but just as baby-faced, had hair like a Qwilfish and eyes as piercing as a Gigalith's.

Seeing their muddied shoes and matching jackets- one from an outdoor brand, she recalls from one of Hilda's magazine, she comes to a conclusion.

"Oh! You two- are you Pokemon Trainers?"

The boy- Hugh, was caught off guard by her question. Rosa, however, shoves him off of her and squeals in excitement, her eyes sparkling.

"Yes we are! Well, we just got our licenses last winter, but-"

Now she holds both of her palms out.

"We heard you were coming to give our friend his first Pokemon and a Pokedex! We figured you'd be willing to give us some too! The professor needs all the help she can get, right?"

Straight to the point; so unlike Bianca when she was her age.

She liked this girl.

"Rosa!"

"Come on, Hughy! It's not that bad to ask!"

"We can just share Nate's-!"

"Is that all you need?" Bianca interrupts. "If that's the case, I can just ask the professor. She's not really too strict about who gets one and who doesn't- truthfully, it's rare when trainers approach us, so we'd really appreciate all the help we can get when completing the Pokedex-"

"Oh, I don't really care about that part."

"Rosa!"

Bianca blinks.

"Maybe Natey does, and so does everyone- but I wanna use the Pokedex to, you know, learn about Pokemon and their moves. And Hughy here wants to-"

"That's enough!"

Covering her mouth with a gloved hand, he locks her head in his arm and tries to drag her out of Bianca's sight.

"Wait, wait, wait-"

And obediently, Hugh stops in his tracks, while Rosa struggles to break free from his grip.

"It's- it's alright, Hugh was it? It's fine, I promise! It's true the professor markets the role of a Pokedex holder for data completion, but-"

She digs out her own Pokedex from her bag- an older model from two years ago, with a cracked screen and a few bumps and bruises.

What stood out to the two kids, however, was the lower part of the Pokedex- slightly charred, and not from a simple fire-type move.

"-really, it's.. more of the professor's own way of getting kids to set out on a journey, especially those who don't plan on taking the league challenge."

The two kids look at each other for a bit.

"Oh! But of course, it's for learning too! You don't need to complete the Pokedex if you don't want to, but-"

"Then that settles it!"

With a wide grin, Rosa closes the space between her and Bianca, pushing herself up on the coffee table as Hugh tried to yank her off by the hood of her jacket.

"Please, please, pleaaaaaase Miss Bianca! I'd really like a Pokedex of my own, and Hughy does too-"

"Shut up!"

"-so can we please have one? We'll make sure Natey completes his, I promise!"

Most of the patrons seemed to have gone back to doing their own thing. Bianca could only assume that whatever was going on, and who these two kids were, it was a normal occurrence in the city of Aspertia.

She couldn't help but laugh at the familiarity- almost two years ago, she had done the same over Professor Juniper's desk, as her friends tried to pull her away and apologize for her enthusiasm.

"Well, as the professor says,"

She takes out a couple papers from her briefcase, where two of the remaining Pokeballs resided.

"The more the merrier!"

...

Another Lillipup falls to the power of his starter's Ember, something that Nate had been cheering over a few battles earlier.

But, as his Tepig gets stronger and learns more moves, Nate finds himself in a dilemma in the midst of his training in Floccesy Ranch, something that Bianca recommended he do first as a bonding exercise with his starter.

"Hey, Tepig,"

The little Pokemon snorts up at him curiously, wondering why it was no longer basking in praise as it was over an hour ago.

"I don't think we're gonna catch any Pokemon like this."

It doesn't seem to particularly care, however- it's too busy celebrating its consecutive victory, and Nate would too, if he could use any of the Pokeballs that he had been given.

..well, he had, but-

"Missed shots. And if they did land, the Pokemon would break free," He groaned. "And when we try to weaken 'em up, you end up going all out!"

Tepig raises its nose out at him.

"Don't sass me! Miss Bianca asked us to catch Pokemon too, you know! Winning battles ain't the only thing a trainer can do!"

"Bwark!"

Both trainer and Pokemon turn their heads to the sudden noise, much bigger than the cries of other Pokemon they've heard in the ranch.

Not too far from where they were was a Herdier, its posture alert, but not quite hostile.

"Wait, a Herdier?"

He glances at his Pokedex's habitat feature for a second.

"They're not common 'round here. You're not a wild Pokemon, are you?"

The Herdier glances at him almost expectantly. Nate would know if it was expecting a treat, or even a pat.

But with the way it was waiting, it seemed to be calling Nate over for something.

Nate and his Tepig glanced at each other for a moment with the same dumbfounded expression- but Tepig returned to sniffing the tall grass for more opponents to fight, eager to stroke its ego.

With a sigh, Nate rose from his spot on the grass.

"Alright, you stay there. I'll go help this little guy out, alright?"

And as expected, as soon as Nate started making his way to the Herdier, it turned around and started trotting deeper into the ranch.

...

Somewhere in the ranch, a figure clad in black- a shadow with no vessel, stands before a sleeping body in the grass.

Hands on their chest, their skin deathly pale, a red ribbon on their collar blowing in the wind- they looked like a corpse.

The shadow crouches before them, eyeing the pin they wore on their cardigan- the pin of a league member, specifically, a gym leader.

"It would be easy to just grab you like this, but-"

Almost on cue, their Xtransceiver begins to ring- and he hears the sound of a ship from the distance, all the way at Virbank City.

Glancing at the body one more time, they sneer as they disappear in a puff of smoke.

"-you'll find your way back to us, just as the legends foretold."

#bw/bw2 rewrite #bw2 arc

[antihibikase2]

"Divine dragon of ideals,"

The newly crowned king kneels by the altar. His sisters stand by his side in prayer, heads lowered and hands clasped together, pressed against their foreheads.

"As I set off on my journey today, I pray for your light- let my ideals shine through and give me the strength to guide the people of Unova to a better, brighter future; one where Pokemon do not suffer at their hands."

"Rather bold of you to make a wish, young king. The dragons are rather fickle in how they choose to grant such things."

N stops his prayer.

But he needs not to turn around.

Anthea and Concordia greet the newcomer, parting from the king's sides to make room for him to kneel and offer a prayer of his own.

"I suppose it is rather forward of me," N replies. "But I would like to, ah, give the dragon of ideals a show of what I am capable of, before I awaken them from their slumber."

"And you believe they will hear your prayer?"

"I put my full faith in them. You?"

"I mean no disrespect to the dragons- but the only God I worship is your father."

N glances to his side- he's surprised Nikolai is a man of faith at all.

But he supposed anything could be holy enough to save him, the curious doctor who claimed his family had served the Harmonias for generations.

"Well, what do you pray for?"

"Many, many things- but He only needs to hear what I desire the most,"

He brings his hands together.

"For God may pity man, but it is up to mortal hands to bring truth to what is their ideal."

"How profound. Is that your own philosophy, doctor?"

"A Hoennian philosophy and saying," He brings his hands close to his forehead. "I've heard of such in my travels."

Hoenn- it sounded like a lovely place. He would love to witness the sea and skies for himself, after he had fulfilled his mission as the Hero of Ideals.

But, he chooses not to bother Nikolai in his prayer, even if the doctor had done the same for him.

Zekrom may hear his prayers outside the chapel, but N wonders if Ghetsis would offer the same to his lone worshipper.

Without a word, the young king steps out into his journey, his sisters accompanying his every move- all while the doctor remains in the castle, praying for a god to save him.

#bw/bw2 rewrite #drabble

[antihibikase2]

Grimsley was running late- and frankly, he did not care, but this wasn't one of those instances where he could chalk it up to his easygoing nature, or his reliance on lady luck.

This tournament was something he and his peers had prepared for extensively; it was a chance to showcase the skills they've honed, to prove themselves worthy of the title Ace Trainer, and to secure a spot in the professional world of battling.

Yet..

"Thinking about it now," Grimsley mumbles, parking his bike just outside Clay's place. "I think becoming a gym leader is too much work, don't you think?"

The child in his basket, initially pre-occupied by suckling on the Lava Cookie between their hands, makes a noise.

"Uhn."

Grimsley chooses to believe that Little Cheri was agreeing with him.

"Yeah, I'm probably not cut out for it. Plus, one of the open spots is at Castelia," He shudders. "Don't think I'd do too well in that place. Too.. bourgeoisie."

"Borger?"

"No, no. It's nothing, little one," He helps Little Cheri out of the basket of his bicycle, settling nicely into the pair of outdoor shoes he had brought. "Grown up stuff."

"McDewoww?"

"No, we're not going to McDewott's. Sorry, kid."

Little Cheri loses interest instantly.

Grimsley chuckles, taking their small hand into his and leads them along.

Though he wouldn't be lying if he excused his tardiness due to having to babysit his sibling at the last minute, it was a stroke of luck (or misfortune, for everyone else) that such a thing occurred on the day he was expected to shape up, to live up to the title he worked so hard to achieve.

To make his mother- and he supposed, father, proud.

Such thoughts were almost nothing compared to the freedom that came with being a big brother; the ability to use his sibling and duties to the family as an excuse to escape almost any situation.

"Perhaps you really are my little good luck charm."

"Cham."

The child stares down at their own feet, making sure to avoid stepping on the lines of the floor.

He laughs a little.

"Now, the tournament is just near the Cold Storage- it's going to be a little chilly, so wear your kuya's scarf, okay?"

Not that he needed the extra warmth- Little Cheri had a big red scarf that matched his, lovingly crafted with the yarn of a ball of Destiny Knot.

But Little Cheri was fickle, and Grimsley knew from a few visits that Little Cheri did not like the cold, nor did they like playing in the snow.

"And sit with ate Shauntal and kuya Marshal when it's my turn to battle- and watch closely! You might pick up a tip or two from me."

And wouldn't that be adorable, for Little Cheri to pick up after Grimsley, as if he was worthy of admiration?

"Much better than dad, that's for sure,"

"Da?"

"..no, nothing, don't mind that."

Little Cheri starts singing to themselves with each step.

As far as Little Cheri was concerned, Noland was just some strange man that visited sometimes and pecked his bedridden wife on the cheek.

It was a cause for concern when Little Cheri cried when they were lifted into his arms, and couldn't even recall what to call him.

"Well, that's his bed, and if he chose to make it that way, whatever-" He scoffs. "We'll be just fine, okay? You, me, and mom."

Even if breathing was harder on some days, and she couldn't take Little Cheri out even for a walk on the outskirts of Nuvema, Lillith would be fine- she would make a recovery.

She had to.

They pass by the market, a little more busy and bustling than usual- Little Cheri stops in their tracks, eyes lit up at the sight of toys and trinkets displayed on the stalls, watching as workers roll in with their carts full of goods.

"Oh, you want something?"

Little Cheri doesn't wait- they start tugging his arm, eyes focused on the plushies hanging on by their threads, enchanted by the way they swayed.

Little Cheri usually doesn't ask for much. They were quiet, polite, content with whatever was given to them- but Grimsley supposed that, no matter how much of a well-behaved angel Little Cheri was, they were just like other children.

He feels slight relief at the realization, that Little Cheri isn't too different from the other kids.

Still, Noland got on his case for spoiling Little Cheri with every visit; so he might as well attach a condition.

"Kuya Grimsley will get it for you, but promise to behave later, okay? Pokemon battles may be fun- but they're dangerous, especially for little kids like you."

Hearing the word "promise", Little Cheri raises a pinky up to him, a habit he's picked up from their neighbor's daughter- oh so he was told. "Pin. Pinpin prammy."

"Prammy-? Yes, I suppose that's what it's called," He links their pinkies together with a grin. "Okay, good kid. Pick what you like."

The shopkeeper is old, but patient, watching as Little Cheri scans through the assortment of plushies. Each Pokedoll had a playful wink, posed into a hug, and had little tags attached on the tabs by their tails.

The other stalls in the market were different from the usual; instead of produce from Mistralton or imports from other regions, cheerful decorations hung on the ceiling as some of the usual shopkeepers of fruits and vegetables made way for others selling toys and small accessories.

Today's turnout weren't just the regulars- they brought their children as well, and a few foreign faces popped up amidst the crowd, mesmerized by the sights.

A fuzzy memory makes its way into Grimsley's mind- he recalls Lillith taking him to one of these shops when he was younger, but it had been slightly bigger with an assortment of fairgrounds activities.

"A fair is what it's called in Unova,"

Lillith had explained, her gentle features illuminated by the dazzling lights of the stalls.

"But in Hoenn, your father and his brothers call it a 'peryahan'- they used to work in these kinds of places during Christmas, you know. For a little extra money. Perhaps this is why he has a knack for playing games- and so do you."

If such a thing ever stood here in Driftveil, Grimsley wondered if it would dazzle children the way the amusement park does in Nimbasa, a sight that shines throughout the seasons.

But perhaps a fleeting experience, one available only a few times throughout the year, was something that could be appreciated by many.

"I didn't know they were selling stuff like these in Driftveil," Grimsley muses, taking out his wallet. "Isn't this usually just, um, a wet market?"

"It's always like this during the holidays, son," The shopkeeper says. "Driftveil and Nimbasa are perfect for us- they're the spots where tourists often go to after a long flight at Mistralton, and it's not too far from Castelia's port. Might as well take advantage of that."

"For your livelihoods, yeah, I get it- but I'm guessing you don't have a permanent shop? I mean, I don't think its ideal to trek through the western routes with your goods."

"No, of course not-" They chuckle. "Renting a spot is too expensive. This is just a way for us to earn extra income during these times; the travel could be better, but,"

They sigh in a way that Grimsley knows all too well.

"Anything for your family, you know?"

"I know."

He understands.

Lillith used to knit scarves to sell at Nacrene City during the holidays, back when she could pick up her knitting needles.

There was a moment in time where he spotted children wearing the same red scarves as him. They've long since outgrown their scarves, but Grimsley still wears his with pride.

Maybe once Lillith got better, he could help her sell her scarves- and with the income he was making as an Ace Trainer, perhaps she could have her own established shop.

And maybe Noland would be home more often, not all the way back at Hoenn, and Grimsley wouldn't have to worry so much if his sibling was being taken care of, or making friends in daycare.

"I've seen you around," The shopkeeper changes the subject. "You're one of those trainers about to make it big, right?"

"About to?" He wished it was that secure. "I- I guess? You could say that, but-"

He remembers why he was here- the tournament was soon to start, yet, he was dawdling in the market.

"You're so young," They laugh. "To pour all your time into Pokemon- my, I used to be a trainer myself, but the battle scene frightened me, and here I am."

"Yeah, it's not for everyone- the competitive scene gets toxic."

"Surely, it has its perks. I heard there are plenty of you this year who challenged the champion."

True; with the talk of Elite Four members and Gym Leaders stepping down, shoes had to be filled- and unlike Drayden or Lenora, many of the league's members had acknowledged that it was time for the youth to step in and take charge.

Many challengers stepped up to Alder this year for that sole purpose.

But Grimsley?

"It's easier for us to get scouted in the professional scene- especially in the league, but,"

This was usually the time a bit of shame pinched Grimsley's chest- but with Little Cheri by his side, it felt less like a shameful confession.

"Really, I'm just in it for the money."

Not for the joy of battling, or even for a shot at making it big.

"It's- yeah, it's not the best motivator, but,"

Little Cheri points at a plushie at last; one of a Buneary.

"Anything for the family, you know?"

Rarely does anyone look at Grimsley the same way after that.

But the shopkeeper's face doesn't contort into that of disappointment, or even disgust- its a melancholic sense of understanding, one that Grimsley had a hard time finding in even his mentor, who empathized with his struggles.

"It's not shameful."

"It's- it's not seen that way,"

"They don't get it," The shopkeeper says. "But not everyone has a good hand in life, huh?"

Those exact sentiments were shared by Lillith- and reluctantly, Noland, awhile back.

"Giima," Little Cheri babbles. "Fuh, fuwa fuwa. Fuwa fuwa. Want."

"Fluffy? You want the fluffy, Cheri?"

"Faffy."

"We'll take the fluffy Buneary then," Grimsley laughs. "How much?"

The shopkeeper takes the plush, eyes the price tag- before not so discretely removing it, crumbling it into a ball in their fist.

"Ah, one-and-five-hundred, son," They smile up at him. "Consider it a discount."

He would argue.

But he would also like to buy flowers for his mother later, and the ones sold at Mistralton's market cost a pretty penny.

He takes the plush with a smile of his own, handing it down to the eager child by his side. Little Cheri squeals, hugging the Buneary close to their face and nuzzling it against their cheek.

He gives the shop keeper the payment, and waves his hand dismissively when they offer him his change. "It's fine, sir. We both, uh, have duties to do, don't we? I hope it isn't too big of a discount,"

"It's alright, son- I'm sure my wife won't mind. Just promise to drop by when you do make it big- and buy all these plush dolls for your cute little sibling there,"

Both men laugh as Little Cheri holds their new plush with both hands, eyes sparkling and cooing.

Grimsley would gladly take his sibling out for more shopping, perhaps even sightseeing in Driftveil- but the shopkeeper's words remind him of why he's worked so hard in the first place, despite his resentment for the image he was meant to uphold.

The title he's earned and all that it took to get where he was,

"Giima, tenkyu."

It was all for Little Cheri, wasn't it?

"You're welcome, kid."

Grimsley takes them by the hand again- though they weren't expressive in either expression or tone, Little Cheri seems to have lightened up a bit.

"Let's go, or Shauntal is gonna yap my ear off."

...

As the two boys make their way out of the market, the shopkeeper is approached by a man around his age; it seemed they were planning on selling used books.

"Oh, you're- Godfrey Rood, yes?"

Godfrey looks away from his stock of plush dolls. "Yes. And you're-"

"Zinzolin Ryder," They offer a gloved hand. "One of the sages."

"Yes, I recall- Lord Ghetsis put you in charge of-"

"Researching the legends, as well as gathering the relics."

"Oh, I suppose such a task makes it difficult to do your regular job nowadays?"

"Tell me about it," The other sighs. "The Order has its volunteers- but I need to pull my own weight as well."

Godfrey nods.

He sees Zinzolin is not alone- several people carry his stock to his stall, greeting the pair with a silent nod as they head in and out of the market.

"And I assume those are your followers?"

"Oh, no no no. Not mine-"

Though he was a mere spectator, Zinzolin's eyes did not fail him when he caught a glimpse at those pair of siblings by Godfrey's stall; particularly the smaller of the two, wide-eyed and innocent.

"-The Heart's."

#bw/bw2 rewrite #fic

[antihibikase2]

Pokemon Blur - Chapter 1 : The Magician

At the lookout of Aspertia, dreams are shared.

Divine dragons of Truth and Ideals, heed the prayers of a foolish heart.

As we leave the sanctity of your temple, guide us through the darkest night with your brightest of stars.

...

The afternoon chatter of Aspertia City is lively- small shops and stalls open to welcome locals and tourists alike, as children run down the streets with toys in hand, accompanied by their Pokemon.

In the corner of the newly renovated trainer school, a dark-haired boy gazes at the presence of a man in a spiffy white suit and a pair of sunglasses standing in front of the entrance, head held high.

But, the most striking part of his outfit had to be the brooch he wore on the collar of his blazer, gleaming gold.

"Which means-"

He lifts up his goggles, resting them on his head of spiky hair.

By his side, a smaller girl with a similiar, albeit fluffier hairstyle looks up at him eagerly.

"-this is going to be the new gym, and that guy is the new gym guide."

"No way! In our neighborhood?"

"Right on," He grins. "It's perfect. That means a lot of trainers here in Aspertia City will finally be able to properly train for themselves- and not just any kind of training,"

Taking his Lure Ball from his belt, he fiddles with it in his gloved hands, eager to send out his partner and test out his skills.

"All regional leagues are competitive, but Unova is something else entirely- it's such a massive competitive scene that they have to keep honing their skills, or they'll get replaced by up and coming trainers."

He spins the ball in one finger.

"Did you know that the gym leader who's held the position the longest is Drayden of Opelucid City?"

"He's the,"

The little girl tilts her head.

"Umm, the grandpa with the big beard?"

"Yeah! He's been around since before you were born!"

"He's that old?"

She tilts her head to the other side, finger placed on her bottom lip.

"Hey, big brother, how old is Mr. Drayden?"

"He's-"

"Didn't you know, Aya? He's like reaaaaaaally old."

Hugh turns around.

What greets him are blue eyes barely concealed by the rim of a pink and white visor, a catty smile, and a pair of buns atop someone's head, perfectly circular- like the lumps of a Seismitoad.

Atop her shoulder is a thoughtless, preening Ducklett, blankly staring at Hugh and Aya- before flapping its wings and gently landing in Aya's arms with a pleased quack.

"Rosa!"

"Hey, Hughy!" She grins. "I had some time to kill, so I thought I'd drop by!"

"But big sister," Aya looks up, her hand gently stroking Ducklett's head. "You're always free."

"Yeah," Hugh snorts. "It's not like you actually do anything."

"Hey, I'm getting there! Honestly," She puffs her cheeks. "I trek all the way here from Virbank, and this is the thanks I get?"

"It's not that difficult for you, isn't it? You have a party already."

"Three Pokemon barely counts as a party, Hughy! Lively company shortens the miles-"

She snaps her fingers.

Ducklett squawks, squirming out of Aya's arms and flapping its wings back to settle onto Rosa's head.

"-and I'm dying to see what Pokemon is out there!"

Hugh nods, hand gripping onto his Lure Ball.

He understood that sentiment far too well.

Despite him and Rosa already having Pokemon of their own, fully capable of venturing into the world, they stay in the southwest part of Unova, separated from the rest of the mainland.

They could have left earlier on, but-

"Now that it's all three of us with Pokemon," Hugh tucks the Pokeball back into his belt. "Unova won't be so scary."

"Definitely. Two years ago was such a mess, big sis and I had a bad fight about going on a journey in the first place!"

"Who won?"

"Definitely not pops," She twirls a strand of her hair. "But, with big sis being a new gym leader and all, she has a little more insight on the stuff ongoing at the league- hopefully, that eases her nerves."

Hugh hoped so too.

It would be a shame if they missed out on adventuring like the rest of the kids their age had experienced, all because of some crooks terrorizing the streets of the region.

That didn't sit right with him at all- to remain sheltered, terrified, all because of petty Pokemon thieves.

"And speaking of journey,"

Rosa tilts her head playfully, arms behind her back.

"Where on earth is Natey?"

...

Bianca rushed headfirst into the city as soon as she glanced down at the time on her Xtransceiver- and realized she'd been talking Alder's ear off for more than just an hour.

"Ohhh, Bianca, why now of all days?!"

She curses herself, nearly tripping to her face as she tried to navigate around the streets. She swings around the briefcase in her hands, apologizing repeatedly to the poor Pokemon inside, as she tries to look for a sign, a person- anything, to guide her.

Then she spots a familiar head of white hair- right in front of the local trainer school no less.

"Oh, oh! Clyde!"

"Miss Bianca?"

She takes a few steps in front of him, sighing in relief. "You are here! I thought you weren't assigned to come here until next week!"

The man grins, adjusting his pair of sunglasses- he hasn't aged a bit.

"Well, I couldn't sleep a wink- not when I'm being stationed somewhere new. The sights at Castelia have been getting boring these past few years, so I thought there was no harm in coming early-"

He glances proudly up at the sign.

"And I must admit, this seems like a fresh start for all of you kids. Especially the new gym leader. I just had to come and assist him as soon as I could."

Gym leader- it was still amazing for Bianca to hear about how far her friend has come.

"But, ah, I think he's busied himself in the ranch?"

"Oh, yeah! We all went to Alder's place together, he left not long after he had some tea with us, and-"

She remembers why she approached him.

"Oh, oh! Right! The lookout- do you know where it is?"

"Lookout?"

"Yes! The professor asked me to deliver a Pokemon and Pokedex for a little boy-"

"A little boy!" Clyde doesn't take long to tap into his memory. "Hm, how little are we talking about?"

"Wuh-? Um, the professor said her friend said her kid is quite small-"

"Then he just passed by me,"

He points to a street on his left.

"You must have missed it, but just before the gate, there will be steps leading you to the lookout. It's not too far from the school."

He flashes her a charming grin.

"I saw quite a little boy earlier, cheering about how he was going to get his first Pokemon today! The locals seemed to know him very well."

Not a single one passed by without greeting him after all.

"So he's already there- shoot, I must have kept him waiting," She adjusts her grip on the suitcase with one hand, fixing her glasses with the other. "Oh, we've got to chat over tea sometimes, Clyde!"

"No worries, Miss Bianca!"

He waves as she begins to run to her destination; though others may see her as flighty and airheaded, she was just as hardworking as ever.

Perhaps even more so than he last saw her- all of these kids were.

"Ah, to see them grow into such responsible teenagers,"

Suddenly, he felt like he had two years ago, seeing a peculiar trio standing in front of his boss Burgh's gym- a girl with a green hat, a boy with red glasses, and-

"Hero of Truth, are you seeing this now, I wonder?"

The boy with the red cap- he looked an awful lot like that little boy that passed by him.

...

Something about the spring breeze was different this year.

Granted, it wasn't the same last year either- the chaos at the mainland due to Team Plasma was an event that rocked Unova to its core, shattering a truth that had guided the region and its citizens for many years.

Of course Nate knew they were scum- it wasn't as if Aspertia City was left forgotten in the wake of their terror.

Though they've disbanded with the disappearance of their king, their message lives on in the mouths of many- and there were few who chose to live by their ideals, releasing their Pokemon into the wild.

Nate lets out a deep breath- one he hadn't been aware he was holding.

"Doesn't matter where they are now, I guess- because worrying isn't my style!"

He pumps his fist into the air.

Atop Aspertia's lookout, he felt on top of the world- and nothing was going to bring him down, even with the thought of what had transpired two years ago weighing in his mind.

"I'll be picking daisies! I'll have a trusty Pokemon partner with me, a cool new Pokedex, Hugh and Rosa-"

"Heyyyyyyy!"

His monologue is interrupted by the presence of a stranger.

Blonde hair, a white ribbon in front of her cardigan- and a striking, big green hat.

Big green hat!

"I am so so so sorry for running late, little one,"

Bianca isn't even looking at him as she pants, stumbling from the stairs and onto the ground.

"But I was in the middle of a very important discussion with Mr. Alder about Dream Mist, and then I got sidetracked by Clyde, and-"

She stops her talking, straightening her back- and takes a deep breath.

All Nate could do was watch her in awe, eyes fixated on the briefcase she had in her hands.

"Let's um, do it from the top. My name is-"

She raises her head, meeting the gaze of the newbie trainer-

And she pauses, finding his brown eyes all too familiar.

#bw/bw2 rewrite #bw2 arc

[antihibikase2]

Burn Heal : Chapter 1

Will-O-Wisp : The user shoots a sinister flame at the target to inflict a burn.

Even when they were young, there was something different about Hilbert Blackburn- perhaps it was a youthful, boyish charm, one that made him appear to be almost heroic in the gaze of his childhood friends.

It would have been quite embarrassing for either of them to admit such a thing back then, to admire Hilbert for something neither of them could pinpoint- perhaps now, it would be well-deserved.

He had become the hero they've heard of in the legends, fire licking up his wrists and brown eyes occasionally shining blue, the smoke surrounding him curling into beautiful wings- a sign that he was, indeed, Reshiram's chosen.

Yet.

Hilbert, crowned hero and champion, still looked the same as he had two years ago, when he set out for his journey with his friends.

Hilbert, Reshiram's Chosen and Hero of Truth, looked as if time had not been as cruel to him as it had been for the people he left behind.

Hilbert, that earnest boy who ran away from Nuvema Town, had the same kind eyes, the same wide smile, the same awkward laugh.

While Cheren, the one who stayed, the one who waited, the one left behind, stood taller than him.

He bit down on his lip at the sight, sneaking his hand into the pockets of his pants- and finds a small toy to fiddle with in his fingers.

It was a small toy he had acquired from a capsule toy machine at Striaton when he was young- a small toy of a Ferroseed with rotating body parts, paint chipped off from the cheap plastic.

This Ferroseed- it was one of the many things he and Hilbert shared, unsurprising as he grew up in the homes of both his friends.

Yet that memory does not bring him a warm sense of nostalgia- it only serves to bring attention to the growing coldness in his palms, the sight of his breath leaving his mouth-

"Cheren?"

He finds something stuck in his throat. The fidgeting persists.

That voice was exactly how it was two years ago.

How could Hilbert retain his voice, when Cheren's had changed, both as a result of time and as a result of the Relic Song being taught to him?

It felt almost like a dream, one Cheren wanted so desperately to wake from- the cruel, gray reality of Hilbert's absence would be better than this.

To see his best friend unchanged and untouched, just as he had last remembered him, as if the past two years didn't happen-

This was a trick meant to mock him, just like the illusion of a Zorua. A phantom of who his friend was, standing before him as if they belonged.

A phantom.

His skin presses against the sharpened edges of the plastic.

"Cheren, are you okay?"

The plume of smoke surrounding Hilbert grows, changing from a gloomy gray to an inky black.

That's it, right? This isn't Hilbert.

Just another nightmare in the flesh.

#bw/bw2 rewrite #burn heal #fic #surrealism cw #kuroshipping

[antihibikase2]

"Dearest Cheren Slater,"

Philia

Nate used to have very few people to turn to when he needed it; of course, Hugh and Rosa shared a spot at the top of his list, and especially his mother- but outside of them, Hugh's family, and maybe big sis Roxie all the way at Virbank, his options were limited.

And, truthfully, none of them fit the bill for his current dilemma- his mother would tell him he could achieve anything he wanted as long as he put his mind into it, his friends would tell him to believe in himself..

So he goes to the person who he knows sees the truth, the one that carries the will of the hero that rode the white dragon of fire; his city's gym leader, and his homeroom teacher.

"Do you think I could be a hero like Hilbert Blackburn?"

It was a touchy subject- the people of Nuvema treaded the topic of The Hero of Truth as if he was a ghost, someone that never existed. His truth was hidden in plain sight, spoken in-between hushed whispers.

As kind and patient Cheren Slater was, adapting his language and presence to be one fit around students,

He was still the Cheren Slater from two years ago, the same Cheren Slater who spoke his mind and thought Team Plasma was a waste of oxygen.

"Why be like Hilbert at all?" He asks. "It's your life and your story- there's no right answer to what kind of hero you should be."

The answer came to him so easily, as if he was asked about this a hundred times before- but to Nate, this was a revelation, the bridge he needed to reach out for his ideals.

Whether his reply came from a teacher's wisdom, a big brother's love, or the concern of a friend, Nate didn't know- and he didn't mind keeping it in the dark. All that mattered was the truth.

"Sincerely, your favorite student Nate."

Storge

His position as an Elite Four member granted him many luxuries, ones he had dreamed of when he was just a mere ace trainer waiting to be scouted into the professional scene. Though many starting out found it difficult to enjoy the fruits of their labor, Grimsley was Grimsley, and well..

"I always found a way to sneak out back then," He raises a champagne glass. "Of course, I couldn't live like that forever. I started working very seriously, and-"

"You're back to sneaking out now?" Grimsley's glass clinks against Cheren's- though his drink was nothing but pink lemonade. "I've heard tales from Mr. Alder that you were quite irresponsible."

"I wised up once I had to- I couldn't trust dad to look after you, not when he was like that."

They were all true, however- though that irresponsibility came from a place of rebellion and lack of direction; he aspired to become a professional trainer to provide for his family first and foremost after all, a goal that had earned him the ire of many of his rivals back then.

"In the end, I became just like dad," Grimsley swirls his glass. "I got caught up in wanting what's best for you, I didn't stop to think what you wanted- and I ended up not being there for you at all."

He stops himself.

This wasn't a pity party for him or a chance to let out his frustrations over his father once more, it was a birthday dinner for his dear brother; his brother who was once a small, wide-eyed crybaby that pranced around the daycare in his oversized uniform and fluffy boots.

Now, he sits across the table from his brother Grimsley, looking like one of the photos he had of his late mother- before the fall of the Battle Institute, before Noland found a job at Hoenn, before anything.

"You know," He speaks again, meeting his brother's eyes; he looked just like Lillith, despite everything. "Dad used to take mom to this restaurant too."

"Best wishes, your kuya Giima."

Pragma

When a fire had ravaged through the earth, he had believed that hell had come to the land of the living, rendering the soil infertile and stripping him of salvation, doomed to wander for eternity as a sinner.

It wasn't until an angel sent by the heavens above descended from the skies, his soothing voice washing through the fields, healing their wounds- and their growth was aided by the warmth of his smile.

It took patience for his garden to grow to how it was now, evolving from the barren land it was before.

But as if the past was a distant memory or even a bad dream, the scars of the earth were buried underneath fields of red and white, stretching as far as the eye could see.

Descante adored the resilience of flowers, no matter how small.

A delicate little flower doesn't last in a battlefield, nor does it brave through the storm- but a little flower tries, and it endures and persists, like the berries they provide. Even in their death, pressed in-between pages, their beauty was eternal, a blessing taken for granted.

Trainers come and go, passing by his home and complimenting the blossoming fields and orchards- but while they sing praises for the sweetness of the fruit, Descante's worship is reserved for the most beautiful flower of them all.

He presses the tamato flowers between the pages of his journal, tucking away his fountain pens in his drawer.

From outside his window, his little flower scurries around with a Wailmer Pail in his hands, bidding the plants a restful winter with a soothing lullaby.

Descante smiles- and heads downstairs to fix Slater a cup of tea to warm his bones. It wouldn't do if his little flower shriveled in the cold.

"Yours truly, your champion Descante."

Mania

The jealous boy of the gallery loves white roses for their simplicity and purity- they stood out in the darkness of the labyrinth, even more so when they were slowly dyed red. Nothing in this dark and dreary world was as real as the white rose, the embodiment of his spirit.

His own was a deep dark blue, the color of the night sky and the depths of the abyss- unnatural and cold, its petals only change when dyed into black.

A blue rose could sparkle and shine on the outside world, charming the eyes of all he meets- but in the shadows of the gallery, as another one of its inhabitants, it was a grim reminder of his fabricated existence.

He could never seek to possess a pure spirit, one worthy of the white rose- but perhaps, he could claim it for himself, as one of his toys.

He's adamant in his nature, like many of his father's creations- and though he was eternally a youth, inexperienced and impulsive, he outwits the teacher that possessed an orange rose, the one obstacle that stands between him and what he desires.

The thorns of the rose could not dissuade him from holding onto it as if it were his lifeline.

The paintings of the gallery loved playing loves me, loves me not; Piper was no exception. In fact, he knew a winning strategy.

His fingers wrap around each of the delicate petals in his grasp- and he haphazardly pulls on them one by one, cackling as he does so.

As each petal falls to the floor, clinging onto the cold wax of his shoe, Slater's soft breathing steadies into a ringing silence, until Piper could hear nothing but his own sobs.

Atop the Final Stage, its name is changed to accommodate the final touches of the sculpture- and its artist's signature is from none other than Piper himself, penned with his own blood.

"Always and forever, your other half Piper."

Ludus

“There’s better ways to get around a traffic jam. Soaring through the sky isn’t one of ‘em. Nor is it normally approved by the league, especially by the mayor,” Hilbert is rarely cheeky- and today is one of the special occasions he can afford to behave like this. “But they let me take him out for a ride today. I told them I would be transporting valuable cargo.”

Cheren’s grip was like a Durant’s, crushing his torso- he buried his face on the hero’s back, gritting his teeth in a mix of fear and irritation. Though he may have soared the skies on his Unfezant before, he had long since accepted that he was not one for air travel.

“Hilbert, I swear to the legendary dragons- especially Reshiram,” It’s a hiss that comes out of his mouth- but if Hilbert dug deep enough, he could trace his tone to what he convinced himself was playfulness. Or a threat. “If I fall off its back, I’m taking you with me. And if we live, I’m going to kill you.”

“I told you, didn’t I? I’ve had enough time,” Two years, in fact- “To practice riding Reshiram around. It’s scary at first, yeah, but once you get used to him and the feeling of the wind on your hair, your hearts become one- and you’re never going to fear flying ever again!”

“Well, yes, for you- you’re the Hero of Truth,” If Hilbert could see the way he rolled his eyes at him now. “I think it’s the bare minimum for you to learn how to ride him- but can’t you slow down? We’re in no rush, aren’t we?”

“I mean, yeah, we aren’t-” But the people waiting for the both of them at the league would not take it kindly if Hilbert were to be running late with the birthday boy- the one they planned a whole surprise party for. “But, you know, I don’t want to waste a minute of your special day.”

“And why would any minute be wasted?” Blunt as ever, Cheren continues to speak his mind. “Nothing’s a waste, you know. Not when I’m with you.”

It’s far too late when he catches himself saying those words- and before he could stammer out an apology, fearing that such an admission would get to Hilbert’s head and distract him from his flight, Hilbert only laughs- the same kind of laugh he would let out when he was a child, covered in dirt and twigs.

“Aw, don’t be embarrassed, Cheri-” He decides to spare him the teasing for now- and he hopes the white dragon won’t mind taking the blame. “-maybe Reshiram’s aura is just getting to you! Making you more honest than usual!”

His laughter is cut off when Cheren squeezes him harder- and he feels the icy gaze of his best friend piercing through his back. For all of Cheren’s worries about the dangers of the sky, Hilbert found him to be the biggest danger of all.

"With love, your hero Hilbert."

Philautia

The Heart does not regret dying for the sake of the princes, for the birth of the twin dragons- but if he had to repent for any sin in his life, it would have been his greed.

"I wished to be remembered for eternity- and wished to stay by their sides," He laughs bitterly. "Death was the only way to achieve both."

The divine dragons of Truth and Ideals have granted the wish of a foolish heart; his life and his death are to be worshipped for all of eternity, a beauty that will never be tarnished.

Bound to the depths of the sea of time, The Heart listens to the crashing of waves from above the surface- and is horrified to hear the consequences of dream.

A face modeled after his own, eyes softer than his- The Heart reborn makes a wish more innocent than his own.

The fools that play the roles of the divine bring it upon themselves to grant his wish- and split his heart into two, leaving nothing for the vessel.

When the slaughtered lamb lays on the floor, his death mourned by those he loved- The Heart is one of the false castle's many inconsolable souls.

He loved him. How could he not? This had been him- this was him, a life that mirrored his own. And it had been The Heart's own wish that led to such bloodshed.

The Heart would have done anything to bring him back to life- so he offered himself.

The young Cheren Slater dies a cruel death just a week before his fifteenth birthday- and his life continues, as if he hasn't died at all.

"Take care, your unwavering heart."

#bw/bw2 rewrite #cherenverse #ib au #drabble #kuroshipping #mutualism #surrealism cw #death cw

[antihibikase2]

Burn Heal : Prologue

Ice Burn : The turn after using this move, the user surrounds the target with an ultracold, freezing wind to inflict damage. This may also leave the target with a burn.

Five consecutive knocks in a rhythm against an aging wood, followed by two quieter ones.

"Hijo? Are you done?"

Cheren Slater takes one last look at the tall mirror, glass decorated by once vibrant, now faded stickers of Pokemon in cartoonish masks and outfits.

The big bow settled in the center of his pastel pink smock top was a lovely touch- it looked heavy at first, and he initially worried that such a large accessory would weigh down on the delicate fabric.

But no, it stayed in place like a little Ribombee would to a flower- just like he himself had, a fragile creature in wait.

"Hijo?"

The door creaks open, and the familiar bun sitting atop Marian Blake's head comes into view. She gives Cheren a few seconds to think before she allows herself in the shared bedroom of her child and her ward.

Though, he might as well be her child at this point, shouldn't he?

Empty indigo eyes blink at his own reflection, before a thin smile stretched across his lips.

"Sorry, I was just, ah, making sure I looked presentable."

"Prese-?! Hijo, you look more than presentable! Look at you, you're going to steal the spotlight away from the Pokemon in this outfit!"

Like an actor with a script, this was Cheren's cue to let out a shy little laugh from his throat, no matter how much it stung.

"You're quite the flatterer, Miss Bla-"

"Oh, we've talked about this, hijo. As long as you're under my roof, you're not just Nathaniel's teacher, okay? You're a child under my care- call me auntie."

Not even a second passes when another thought comes to her mind.

"Better yet, call me tita. It's not too late for you to familiarize yourself with your Hoenn roots."

How optimistic of her, for her words were true; Cheren Slater was still youthful, mere months away from turning seventeen.

If he so wished, he had his whole life ahead of him to further his connection with his Hoenn roots, especially as he had earned himself a seat at the league, who would always be so kind as to send him on a research trip to his desired region if he just asked.

Unfortunately, Cheren Slater was an emptied vessel, whose life had ended just weeks ago in the coldness of the Giant Chasm.

His dream of basking under the Hoenn sun was purely out of reach, and to think otherwise would only be lying to himself and the people around him.

Still, he was quite the liar- he pleases her attempts at reassuring him of his place in her home, hoping it would be enough to deter her from worrying even further.

"I'll think about it."

Thankfully, she's not pushy.

She is, however, observant.

What Cheren was wearing now was noticeably lighter and looser than the semi-formal uniform he had taken to wearing when he accepted the offer of being Aspertia trainer school's teacher

Realistically, it shouldn't have taken him almost half an hour for preparations, especially with how responsible he was with every second of his time.

But then again, even when kept out of the loop, her son had told her enough of what she needed to hear- that the poor child standing before her now was undergoing a crisis of his reality, and would spend hours upon hours gazing into his own reflection to confirm his own existence.

If she hadn't checked up on him, Cheren would have lost himself in his own dreams once more, a sight that she, as a nurse, had seen quite often during her days of work.

She may not fully understand what he was specifically going through, but-

"You seem to be ready now, aren't you? Why don't you head downstairs with the kids, I'll give your Hilda friend a call and tell her you're all set to go,"

"Oh, I can-"

"I'll do it, hijo. You make sure Nathaniel doesn't forget his tickets- he's league champion and he's still quite irresponsible with his things."

As Cheren grabs his things, the moody little Minccino that had been sleeping on a bed by the foot of the mirror scampers after him, climbing up his back and settling into his shoulder.

Just as she's about to take her aged Xtransceiver out of her duster's pocket, she couldn't help but notice the lingering smell of white jasmines in her son's room.

"Strange," There was a small chuckle in her voice. "Was there a funeral?"

#bw/bw2 rewrite #burn heal #fic #kuroshipping

[antihibikase2]

Request a drabble using this prompt list!

After his ceremony, a banquet is held in his honor, as well as the two that ascended alongside him.

Though he was encouraged to enjoy himself, he remains seated on his table, anxious hands holding onto a piece of paper delicately placed on his lap.

His glassy eyes clung onto every word of the letter, a lifeline he had been holding onto for almost two years now.

"Cheren,"

Cress, recently retired, approaches him with a gentle smile.

"Do you want to dance?"

He takes a moment to ponder- the Striaton triplets had been nothing but kind to him, despite his failures.

With a stiff nod, he rises from his seat, folding the letter and tucking it into the pocket of his blazer.

He takes Cress' hand and is led to the center of the ballroom- from the corner of his eye, Grimsley's worried gaze settles into him, only for Alder to pat his back, reassuring him of his brother's safety.

As Cress guides him, Cheren sees the thousands of eyes watching them, the curious and inquisitive minds- and the hands that wished to dig deep into his skin, to pry it apart and see nothing but half a heart nestled between his ribs.

The rest of the Elite Four and its retiring champion watched them with pride in their eyes, chatting amongst themselves.

Iris and Benga bicker for a moment before Alder pushes both children to join with a laugh.

Burgh waves and smiles- and quickly offers a dance to Emmet by his side, eager to join his student on the dancefloor.

Elesa laughs, covering her mouth with her hand as Skyla rolls her eyes and Ingo makes a snide remark, one he could not hear.

Back turned away from the performance, Dr. Colress takes a sip of wine by the balcony, someone approaches him, offering their hand, and he stares- only for Grimsley to interrupt the conversation and whisk the good doctor away.

He follows the path laid before him effortlessly. He always has.

Until he missteps- and Cress corrects his mistake, catching him by the waist just as he's about to hit the floor.

The crowd cheers- and within the crowd, Cheren could imagine a head of brown hair, a pair of earnest eyes, and blue flames surrounding white wings.

Dizzy eyes try to keep Cress in his mind- but the more he stares, the more they danced, the modern ballroom melts into the golden castle that erupted from the depths of the earth.

The audience- the league, their guests, the media, all were but a blur, faces concealed by light blue hoods and robes of white.

"Cheren?"

Cheri!

"Look at me."

Look at me!

He looks- and rather than Cress, the eldest of the Striaton Trio, all he sees is Hilbert, the runaway champion, Reshiram's chosen hero, and his savior.

But at the thought of the latter, something bubbles in his throat- and he doesn't know what it is.

"You-"

And suddenly, as Cress pulls him up, he's in the coffin again.

"Cheren?"

He's underneath the glass, blue and pink mist swirling inside- the air is intoxicating, and his tongue tastes of rotten apples.

"Cheren, hey,"

A closed fist punches against the glass- but the more they do, the more frost grows to conceal him from the world, enveloping him in a world of icy cold.

"Cheren-"

As Cress places his palms on his cheek, Cheren grabs his wrist.

"You never-"

Underneath the icy glass, his hero runs away to seek the truth, in denial of the reality before him.

"You never came to set me free."

"Cheren?"

Cheren puts Cress' hand down, meets his eyes,

and the image of Hilbert's smile disappears from his sight.

"I'm sorry," He whispers. "I can't."

Without another word, Cheren makes a run out of the ballroom, lowering his eyes as to not see his face amongst the visitors.

#bw/bw2 rewrite #request #surrealism cw #dissociation tw #kuroshipping