#pmd fic | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

the-present-is-a-gift-au · 2 months

Text

Chapter 36: In Which Twig Is Put Back Together

I told them everything. And I did it crying harder than I thought was mortally possible, Twig scratched onto the pages of a hardcover journal. I blabbed everything and I did it while dribbling all over them both. I think they were more grossed out by the dribbling part than the ‘me indirectly killing an entire bunker of people’ part. I tried the same garbage as always to argue my point that it was my fault, and Celebi looked ready to slap me. I think she honestly might have if Dusknoir didn't grab her midair and walk her away in his hand. It's a good thing he did, because I started crying even harder when Grovyle said something like he's glad I survived the fire and Kip gave me the saddest look ever. He started crying too. I don't think anyone should see two people bawling their eyes out and clinging to each other like we were. It was kind of gross. If Dusknoir and Celebi stayed to watch, I might have died of shame. Grovyle being there was hard enough.

The Future Trio stayed over for a while longer at Kip's place. There was a lot of talking that happened, and I honestly don't remember a lot of it. I should have written it down as it happened. Basically it was just people talking circles about how they couldn't believe I thought they hated me and how I meant a lot to them. I think I fell asleep mid-sentence at one point because I was so worn out from the crying. I'm never crying again. The one time during the hug was okay— it was fitting. But Celebi gave me an English dictionary before they all packed up and left, and I didn't even realize I was crying until she was grabbing for tissues. That felt pretty ridiculous. It's just a book. But it almost felt like she’d given me a drink of water the night I left my bunker behind. Dunno how to say it in a normal way, but it helped me feel better.

It's a real one. She found a real Oxford Language Dictionary. It's missing pages and dogeared to heck and back, but Arceus, this thing is like my baby. I keep taking it off the shelf just to hold it in my hands. I'm sure she had to have pulled some strings with Dialga to bring something like this back from the past or future or whatever, but she kept saying it wasn't any problem to get. Judging by the look Grovyle gave her, it was a big problem to get, but I'm glad she went through it to give it to me. There’s even etymology included for a lot of the words in it. Pronunciations and everything. It's gold.

What else to say… When Dusknoir said to try keeping a journal, I didn't think it would be so hard to decide what to write! As always, his ideas are annoying and weirdly effective. It does feel like I'm not as frazzled now that I'm writing regularly. What else to include, though…

Kip asked me if I wanted to move back in with him. I tried to, but I actually got homesick for Verdant Village after a while. We decided to just keep a room open for each other at each of our places so that we can crash at either house whenever we want to. He loves the library in Verdant Village whenever he comes over. I'm pretty sure the Swadloon that runs it has a crush on him, but I don't think he knows. I'm eager to see how long it takes for him to realize it.

I finally took up Gardevoir on her offers to have me over for dinner. Lyra never fails to show off some new toy or trinket to me whenever I come visit. At first I thought that she just wanted to talk to someone new about her things, but it clicked for me the other day that she wanted to talk to me in particular about them. That… um. It was weird. Nice, but really weird. She's a good kid.

I wonder if Manaphy is old enough to visit Treasure Town by now… I need to figure out how to contact Walrein. It's hard to send letters underwater, I think, but I'll figure something out.

She set the journal aside and stretched her arms and back, rolling her shoulders as she stood up from the writing desk Kip had begged her to buy. It was more than worth the investment. She was never writing using the floor as a table again. Her entry for the day written, she stepped out into the warm sunlight trickling between the leaves overhead and started her usual routines. She chopped firewood, she brought water in from the spigot at the edge of her property to wash the dishes from last night, she went to the market and got some peppers that seemed like something fun to try cooking with. It was her day off between running her shop and going dungeon delving, so she decided to go for a walk like usual to kill time before she'd need to meet up with Gallade for Lyra's exploration lessons.

The hiking trails were well-kept in Verdant Village, sometimes to the point of being better maintained than the main roads that people traveled through town with. Twig had discovered a number of real hidden gems since she'd moved back in, and she made use of them as often as possible.

Oddly enough, apparently Darkrai frequented the trail she was on right then as well.

She hadn't seen him since the day she bore her soul to everyone she'd been keeping secrets from. He'd vanished somewhere between their argument and the hug that sent her spiraling head first into all the heartbreak she'd been refusing to acknowledge, and he hadn't shown his face in the months after. Celebi kept in touch with him via telepathy and responded to Twig's occasional request for an update on where the heck is this guy and what the heck is he doing by saying that he was doing some traveling and thinking. Twig could believe the thinking bit— Darkrai was calculating and cautious, and Ark was analytical and prone to deliberation— but really? Traveling? It seemed strange to imagine the Legend as being a globetrotter all of a sudden. But then again, he had taken in all the sights on the way to Cresselia’s mountain with such awe and enthusiasm that it was easier to imagine him enjoying that sort of thing than she thought it should be.

He was supposed to be traveling. He was supposed to be on some sort of quest of soul-searching and pondering. But here he was, several yards off the path, hidden in the foliage and tucked within the shadows.

“Dude,” Twig eloquently began, “I can see you.”

There was a moment of hesitation before he rose from the shadows, plainly bewildered by her ability to pick him out amongst the dappled shade of the trail.

She sighed. “You're still you–shaped when you do that. You mess up the rest of the shadows around you. And you're… I dunno how to put it, your shadow is noisy, I guess. If that even makes sense.”

He hummed a low note.

“I don't think I ever thanked you for what you did. Um. I appreciate it. Or at least I do now.”

He narrowed his eyes. “What do you have to thank me for?”

“Ark, I'm not stupid. It was pretty obvious looking back on things that you waited until I was in earshot of the gang to start really getting under my skin with what you asked me. If you hadn't, and if they hadn't overheard me chewing you out for it, I probably wouldn't have said anything to anyone about…” She waved a hand. “It's because you did that that I've been doing better, even if it's indirectly.”

“I see.”

“So, uh… How you been?”

“Well enough,” he answered, and did not elaborate.

She frowned. “Cool. Have you seen anything neat on your travels?”

“Many things.”

“Many, huh? Stuff like…?”

“Nothing leaps to mind.”

He's way less chatty now. Weird. “When…” She leaned against a tree opposite to him and fidgeted with her hands, trying to summon the courage to ask him a question that had been eating away at her for months. “When did your memories come back?”

He gave her a wary look. “Why this interest?”

“I've had some other stuff come back for me while you were gone. I wanted to ask so I could get an idea of what's triggering their returns. It seems random at times.”

Darkrai looked away for a moment, hackles raising. “It was… on the expedition we embarked on. You took a hit intended for myself. I recalled a young human doing the same for a grovyle, and somehow understood that it was you in the memory, though that was only the first to return.”

“The first—? You really only remembered that one snippet?”

“It was in bits and pieces that the entirety of my memory returned; a gradual process. Your rejection of my request to join Team Venture was when everything fell into place and I understood what the scattered recollections meant.”

That gave her pause. “You knew then? And you didn't say anything until I totally healed up from my leg getting broken?”

“It was… difficult to reconcile the perceptions I had of you. On the one hand, you were an adversarial nuisance who foiled my every effort to achieve anything. On the other, you had showed me a care I had not received in living memory and given me a new perspective.”

Huh. Celebi wasn't kidding about me changing his mind. Wonder how I managed that. “I can get that. It took me a bit to get used to the idea of you being so different when Cresselia first met you.”

He gave her a vicious glare, cold and poisonous.

“Calm down. I'm not going to let anything slip about your past, especially when you haven't blabbed about mine. Thanks for that, by the way. Dunno if I could've handled Dark Crater if you had said anything back then.”

His glare twitched, venomousness flickering as it gave out into something softer, though schooled by an uneasy sternness. “My failure to blab did not come from a place of kindness at that point. It was leverage I didn't intend to give up. Surely you can grasp that.”

“I can. Doesn't change the fact you didn't say anything before I did.”

Silence. Leaves brushed together in quiet whispers as the wind passed through the treetops. The air was heavy around them. Twig could smell rain on its way.

“I'm sorry,” he finally said, and Twig realized she hadn't been able to pick out the mournful crease of his brow or the barely noticeable desperation in his posture when she first met him in Mount Travail all that time ago. Before, he was practically unreadable to her. Now she was able to see the nervous twitch in his fingers, the hesitancy in his volume. He’d always seemed so closed-off in her mind’s eye, but he had swiftly become an open book, given time.

She blinked, taken aback by his words. The shame in them, the disgust with himself— it was obvious he wasn't apologizing only for holding her past as leverage, and it was an apology he didn't expect to be accepted.

“Hey.” She punched him in the arm, earning a startled grunt. “You got somewhere to stay?”

He squinted at her. “No.”

“I've got a bunch of spare rooms if you're down.”

“If I'm—?” His eyes widened, then narrowed. “You're making fun of me.”

“Not in the slightest.”

“I…” He tilted his head slightly, looking like he was trying to pick out a seed of sarcasm he was convinced lay in her words. “If you're certain it is well with you.”

She nodded as a sense of heaviness lifted from her. Somehow, a weight she'd been carrying was taken away by those words. “I'm gonna finish my hike. Let's walk and talk; Celebi made it sound like you saw every corner of the globe and I want to hear the highlights.”

She started off down the path, Darkrai falling into her wake as she passed. “Globes don't have corners. Not having corners is the entire purpose of a globe.” He sighed. “I suppose I could enlighten you. There was a number of locations you’d likely have found interesting. One in particular had a population that prided themselves on preserving a number of human words and phrases in their daily language…”

Twig enjoyed going for walks alone. It turned out she like to go for walks with company even more.

***

Life was surprisingly mundane despite Twig having a Legend for a roommate. Darkrai insisted that Twig fill her house up with a more typical amount of furnishings, and Twig asked him what exactly she should fill the empty rooms with. He was at a loss and didn't answer. She had her suspicions that he hadn't been in many homes before, but didn't push him on the subject. She eventually figured out she'd been living almost exclusively out of her living room and that the numerous guest rooms in the back of the house were actually a study, a bedroom, and a pair of guest rooms, and that she should probably populate them with the proper furniture accordingly. Given time, Gardevoir no longer looked like she was going to have a conniption whenever she visited, and Twig was actually kind of proud of the decor she put together.

It was during the evening as she looked over a bookcase she'd arranged a few books and keepsakes on, and she thought that she liked how she'd done it, that it occurred to her that this was the first time she could remember feeling proud of herself without any strings attached. She just liked how she'd angled a potted plant next to a stack of books. That was all. There was no baggage of doing it to make up for her being worthless or an awful, burdensome person— she'd simply done it for her own sake, and she liked what she'd done. That felt… weird. It felt weird, and scary in a number of ways. But she didn't run from it. She doubled down on her newfound pleasure in filling her home with pretty things.

It was dumb to take so much joy in something so stupid. She didn't even have any system she used to decorate— she just stuck things where they looked nice with no rhyme or reason or even color palette to keep the baubles cohesive in their looks. It was dumb. But it was something that made her happy. It wasn't her usual kind of happy, either. This wasn't a flashbang of cheerfulness that faded fast and left her empty— it was quiet and warmed her bones even in the dead of night when she fought herself to get over her anxiety and insomnia and just sleep.

It was easier to fight her insomnia hearing someone else moving about the house at night. Ark was quiet, but the muffled thud of a cabinet closing or a door creaking open as he went from room to room helped her feel like she could give up on her desperate need to be awake and aware at all times. She hadn't thought that sharing a home with him would ever be reassuring, but here she was— she'd woken up from a nightmare of her mind’s own making, another memory that the lunar feather hanging on her wall couldn't dissuade when it was busy canceling out Darkrai's aura already— gasping for breath and finally catching it when she heard the Legend getting himself a drink from the next room over.

Her memories hadn't come back to her any more than they already had— it was still just those handfuls of images, of the days leading up to how she left her bunker to burn and now one nighttime vignette of Grovyle soothing her as a kid as well, that haunted her sleeping and waking hours. She wondered why her memories hadn't returned to her completely by now, especially when Darkrai's had despite him having amnesia for so much less time. Sometimes she wondered if maybe they'd never come back. But it was becoming more common these days for her to think that it wouldn’t be surprising if they were just dormant and waiting for a safe time to come back into the light. Given time, she was increasingly sure her past was bound to return to her in full, for better or for worse.

She looked up from her journal. She wasn't writing a real entry at the moment, just flipping through old ones and adding a date here or there where she'd forgotten to include them. Ark was sat at the dining table, one of the heavier books he'd added to her collection sitting untouched before him as he instead pored over a thin book of fairy tales. It had been strange to get used to Darkrai and Ark being truly the same, but she supposed he had to get used to her being herself as well, so they were fairly even on that front. And besides— he still held a tambour and needle in the same way.

She guessed not much had changed at all, in the end. He was still himself, whatever that meant, and she was still whoever Twig was. She still struggled to wrap her head around people loving her, but she was starting to see that there were some things about her worth caring about. There was still healing to do. There was so much of it that Twig found herself intimidated by recovery most days. There was so much healing to do ahead, but in the end, things had changed, just a little. She had some hope now. The past was still an enigma, the future was uncertain, but between the two sources of so much grief and anxiety lay something she was finally seeing as precious and lovely. The present was an excellent gift to receive, after all.

She intended to cherish it.

#pmd eos #pmd #pmd explorers #pmd2 #pmd sky #the present is a gift au #pokémon mystery dungeon #pokemon mystery dungeon #pmd fanfic #pmd fanfiction #pmd fic

13 notes · View notes

choochooboss · 10 months

Text

Ingo Bracket 8 match may not be going in Breakmas's favor; it seems the bosses haven't realised this little guy is their real opponent and are now busy taking care of him! They're still searching for this sneasel's Poké Ball to keep him extra safe!

This adorable looking little warden is from Team Conductors: PMD AU by @teamconductors! I would imagine warden Ingo being rather confused at the situation, being carried around by his younger self, on the other side of law..?!

Link to the original meme in the comments!

@ultimate-submas-tournament

#Breakmas in a nutshell haha #Best of luck to everyone participating!!#submas #subway boss ingo #pokemon ingo #submas ingo #warden ingo #sneasel #breakmas #team break #pokemon #ultimate submas tournament art #submas au #pmd au #pmd lost tracks of time #I must confess I have yet to read a single submas fic ;; I can't even explain why I get so nervous about the thought!#I hope no one else has this problem!!#nothing personal!!#Make sure to check the AUs out if you can!

473 notes · View notes

birdcatt · 7 months

Text

ok so i KNOW hero/darkrai and/or partner/darkrai is very much a road of hurt/comfort. HOWEVER i think hero/partner/darkrai has Comedic Potential

forbidden version where leaf doesn't have floppy ears below the cut

287 notes · View notes

azurityarts · 7 months

Text

go read PMD: Seekers of Soul by @teshamerkel right now

pmd fandom you've done it again

Seriously, this is one of the best fan-made works in the Pokemon Mystery Dungeon fandom. (A must-read if you're 2x weak to the Found Family trope too) It's so, so so so incredibly well-written, explores so many aspects of PMD, and genuinely captured the original feeling of playing the games for me. Please, check it out if you haven't!

#pokemon #pkmn #art #doodle #pokemon mystery dungeon #pmd #riolu #charmander #pmd seekers of soul #THANKS TESHA FOR REWIRING MY BRAIN #AUGHHHHHHHHHHH #THIS IS SUCH A GOOD FIC *banging table* WHY DID I NOT READ THIS SOONER #ouughudgjg. nia. tobias. ashndgdshnfksndg. your honour i love them i love them so much

370 notes · View notes

nartothelar · 1 year

Text

commission for @fandom-soda-writings: comic of a scene from their PMD au fic, Farther From Each Other Than Ever Before

#link to the fic in the replies #PMD au #pokemon mystery dungeon au #submas #emmet #nobori #kudari #ingo #commission #pokemon #pokemon fanart #fanart

1K notes · View notes

oneluckydragon · 4 months

Text

Started writing a fic back in early October and had to abandon it for a while due to IRL situations. But I've started working on it again little by little, and I am so excited to eventually share it with my mutuals and followers. I hope you guys enjoy it (I am trying my best to get it done)!

TBH my only motivation anymore is thinking about my friends having a good time reading it when it's finally posted (I love all of you very much). I cannot wait for all of these ideas to be fleshed-out on paper at last.

Over 16,000 words and I am nowhere near satisfied yet. I feel like I can write WAY more. Stay tuned!

#for anyone wondering the fic is dusknoir/grovyle centric but I PROMISE that I did not forget their girl Celebi #she loves them as well and they love her #but the entire thing takes place during Dusknoir's reconciliation w/ Team Wish #the doodle above is from a scene that I wrote!!#Echo and Dusknoir have lots of conversations #they are working on mending their relationship with each other #also dusknoir is holding his hands folded and out in front of him so Echo can clearly see them at all times #he knows that she's got some trauma with grabbing/touching when its w/ him specifically and he's trying VERY hard to accommodate her #in reality Echo could give a shit about him doing that for her but it's the thought that counts (she secretly appreciates it)#bonus that Sora also gets some resolution with Dusknoir too because lemme tell ya my girl NEEDS it #(scribz / fuji / zerger ) thinking about you guys each day fuels my desire to finish this damn thing so pls know that i love you #pmd eots #pmd2 #my art #my fic #echo/umbreon #sora/lucario #not sure how long until this is actually posted cause my life is a horrible mess atm but I am hoping not too long!!#time to disappear back into the void because job hunting is the literal worst

103 notes · View notes

zerger33 · 6 months

Text

Ethan stepped over to the door, suddenly getting an ominous sense of foreboding. He shouldn’t be nervous. It was fine. Just an adult he’d never seen before at his door, but plenty of people traveled through Pokemon Square. Probably just concerned parents. Yeah… that was probably it.

He realized he was stalling and quickly raised a vine, opening the door and stepping out, focusing with his Leaf as an eye. “Yo, who are yoooo… oh.”

Incredible artwork done by @hardpersonwobblercreator

Go read the story here! https://archiveofourown.org/works/51262423

Rating: Teen and up

Genre: Action

Archive warnings: Minor Violence

Pairings: None apply

#pmd #pokemon mystery dungeon #gates to infinity #pmd rescue team #my fic #fanfiction #fanfic #art stuff #writing stuff #art #pokemon art #I KNOW I'VE BEEN ON HIATUS BUT WE'RE BACK BABY! BACK AND BETTER THAN EVER!

102 notes · View notes

fujii-draws · 5 months

Text

Regrets

Summary: As golden orbs of light brought an end to Dusknoir’s existence; he’s confronted with a thought. One he’d long been avoiding since the day he arrived in the world of the past, and came in contact with two young, small Pokémon. The same two he’d eventually come to grow fond of, only to betray as part of his mission. As he’s forced to finally confront it in his isolation, Dusknoir finds himself coming to an epiphany. One he’d been denying for a very, very long time.

[Word count: 2130]

–––––––––––––––––––––

‘Aimilios... Ribbons...’ The ghost type melancholically lamented to himself. ‘They… did it….’

The black, paralyzed skies had begun to shift as the morning came. Rays of light hit the ghost type’s body; although numb, even he’d felt the warmth of the sun course through him. Time was finally moving again… and all Dusknoir could do was helplessly watch as his body faded; the light bringing an end to his existence.

Dusknoir cannot describe the emotions he’s feeling. Proud…? Accomplished…? Fearful….?

Damn it all. Arceus… if only he’d realized the mistake he was making. If only he’d defied Primal Dialga and had his change of heart sooner… perhaps those two would’ve still…. The three of them could’ve been-

No.

It’s over.

He ruined it.

…Dusknoir turns his head slowly, his gaze falling on to Grovyle; the reason he decided to go against Primal Dialga’s wishes in the first place. The reason he lived; for what would perhaps be the first time in ages… Had it not been for his speech back at the icicle pillars…Dusknoir doesn’t even want to think of the calamity that would’ve ensued. He continues to stare at the slowly disappearing grass-type, almost thoughtful.

“Grovyle…”

The grass-type’s eyes meet the black specter’s pained expression.

“My M-my life… Did it shine….?”

Dusknoir wanted to hear it from Grovyle. He wouldn’t feel satisfied, or even happy hearing it from himself. The ghost’s self-hatred was deep rooted enough as it was. Especially after all of what he had done. He needed a second opinion.

“…Yes.” The lizard Pokémon smiles, softly reassuring Dusknoir in what would be his final moments. “…Extraordinarily.”

…Dusknoir, despite not believing Grovyle, chooses to do so. Offering a small smile back at his old friend. “Grovyle… Thanks to you…..”

He pauses.

“…I have no regrets.”

…Dusknoir starts to feel himself slipping away completely; his physical form fading into illuminated lights in the sky as he draws his final breath… His death is almost comforting... At least- it would’ve been, had he made peace with his unspoken feelings… towards them. Even when he’s disappearing. Even when he’s dying…

He still couldn’t tell the truth.

One regret.

He had all but one.

…And now, he’ll never see them again. Never be able to tell them how sorry he was. Never be able to tell those two how much they meant to him… what they actually meant to him.

How foolish was he…? To get attached like this…? To care so much about their futures as well as his…? ..He couldn’t even admit how much they mattered to him in his final moments… Dusknoir grunts. really is just a liar, isn’t he? And that’s all the two will remember him for. Their scornful expressions when he’d laughed at their misery during their confrontation in the future. Their looks of betrayal. Tears rolled down the eevee and riolu’s faces as they unhinged their claws and teeth at Dusknoir. To think at the time, he found their reactions simply hysterical…

——————

“YOU LIAR..!”

“W-WE TRUSTED YOU..!”

“Pray tell… who’s fault is that?” Dusknoir sneered. “Not once had I asked for your background, or your names.”

Dusknoir began to float menacingly towards Aimilios. “Last I recall, you were responsible for your own partner’s downfall.”

“I-I….”

“LEAVE HIM ALONE…!!”

——————

…Now all he feels is a sharp pain stabbing through his chest recalling that horrible memory.

If there was a heaven or hell; the latter would be awaiting him right about now.

Speaking of…

Dusknoir opens his eye, attempting to browse his uncanny surroundings. What meets the ghost-type is… emptiness?

“…What on earth..?” His eye wanders down to his body.

…He appears in what looks like a pitch-black void. Dusknoir himself would’ve blended right in with the endless abyss had it not been for the yellow outlines distinguishing the features of his silhouette-like shadow… the same exact hue of yellow lights that’d been responsible for his disappearance moments ago… it’s almost as if he’d become a ghost all over again... He’d find the circumstances slightly amusing had it not been for his current dilemma. Dusknoir stares at his golden-laced hand, before contemplating something.

‘…Perhaps..’ Dusknoir thinks to himself. ‘Perhaps… it’s better this way…’ He knows it’s selfish. He knows he’s being a coward. But… now he doesn’t have to face Ribbons and Aimilios. He doesn’t have to look at those same faces that once revered him with such adoration; now fear, in the eyes… And yet… The thought of never seeing those two again… why does the thought bring him so much unnecessary pain? They were only means to an end to begin with- so why does he even CARE?!

“…GWOOH.. GWOOOOH..!!!” The ghost-type’s head begins to throb uncontrollably; Dusknoir clutches his head; nearly identical to how he did when breaking down in the midst of Grovyle’s speech. He clutches his temple harder in a feeble attempt to satiate the pain. Why couldn’t he just stop…? He’d tried so hard to detach himself from Ribbons and Aimilios once he realized who they were... Yet like a complete and utter fool; he stayed close. So close to an eevee and riolu he was ordered to execute. Why couldn’t he just forget about those two…? It would hurt so much less. They were means to an end to begin with- so WHY?!

“B-BLAST IT..!”

He slams both of his fists on the onyx colored ground beneath him in frustration. The yellow outlines of his body begin to glow violently as he draws heavy, shallow breaths.

…Dusknoir is suddenly plagued with a memory- of those two. He… remembers the eevee and riolu smiling widely; at him no less. It was… around the time when he’d referred to them as his ‘friends’. A mere front to gain their trust. Dusknoir recounts just how overjoyed they looked… and how that happiness made something in his chest hurt for a split second. He didn’t have to give them false hope. He didn’t have to play this ruse as far as he did… and yet. There was a small, foolish part of him that genuinely enjoyed it; and an even smaller part of him that knew he’d regret it.

————————

“You mean it?!” The riolu beamed. “You’ll really help us?!”

“But of course!” Dusknoir smiled, placing a hand on his chest. “I offer you two, my full cooperation!”

Dusknoir watched as the two Pokémon whip their heads towards eachother; almost trying to confirm the other’s disbelief. They look back at him; tails wagging rapidly in unison— before Ribbons excitedly jumps onto the ghost-type. Dusknoir nearly stumbles from just how sudden it was. Despite this, he catches her with his quick reflexes.

“Thank you thank you thank you!!!” Ribbons cheered. “You have no idea how much this means to us!”

Dusknoir recollected himself; before putting a hand on each of the overjoyous Pokémon’s heads.

“I’m… glad to hear. Truly.” A lie, obviously…but even he couldn’t help but smile a little at their shared enthusiasm.

“By golly..! Huff… huff…”

All three of the Pokémon had turned their heads to the out-of-breath Bidoof. Dusknoir immediately put Ribbons and Aimilios down; a slightly embarrassed blush crossing the ghost’s face as he brushed himself off coughing, returning to his more professional, stoic-like persona.

———————————

…He didn’t have to play with their emotions. He could’ve just as easily stayed acquaintances- kept his distance- but no. He just had to enjoy spending time with them. He had to get closer to them. He had to remember their favorite foods. To enjoy laughing with them until his stomach became sore, protecting them, watching over them, loving them as if they were…

Were…

…Dusknoir can’t help but hold his hand under his eye. He… he really did care those two... As if they were his own… his own…

“….Hoh…”

His train of thought comes to a complete halt. The idea of those two? Seeing him that way? After what he had done? After the horrible things he’s said…?

“Ho..Hohohaha..! HOHOHOHA-HA-HA-HA!”

His laughter becomes more and more erratic; holding one hand under his eye as the other grips his head- his cackles echoing into the never ending void.

“HAH-HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAhahaa…!“

Dusknoir’s broken laughter echoes throughout the void; until there’s nothing left but silence. Both of Dusknoir’s hands now cover his face as he crumbles to the ground. A shell of what was once the ‘Great Dusknoir’… was nothing more but the husk of a broken ghost. Too selfish and weak to do the right thing; and stand by the only two Pokémon who were willing to trust him with their lives… He wishes the endless abyss he was in would just swallow him already.

“Aimilios…Ribbons…” Dusknoir’s voice cracks; calling out for the ones he’d hurt.

…They deserved so much better than him. He didn’t deserve them. And to think in the beginning, they’d been the ones who were trying to prove themselves to be worthy of him... When it’d been the other way around this entire time. How ironic.

How absolutely ironic.

…Which reminds him-

“Ribbons…!” His head shoots up in a panic; his eye filled with worry.

She had already disappeared at this point, didn’t she..? In front of Aimilios no less..? He can’t even begin to fathom how horrible it must’ve been for both of them… at such young ages… maybe if he’d assisted them on their perilous journey to Temporal Tower…. he could’ve been there to remedy the weight of their situation… but of course instead, he used it in a pathetic attempt to beg for his life. Dumping everything onto Ribbons in a last ditch effort to save his own ghostly skin… in the small desperate hope she’d finally understand why he…

…Selfish.

So selfish.

Of course his train of thought immediately went straight back to him. He can’t think about anyone’s wellbeing except for his own. His ‘self preservation’. His ‘life’. Nevermind all of the Pokémon he was going to deny the futures of. He was at risk. So they all had to pay for it. Because of his cowardice.

This was his atonement.

He deserved this.

Dusknoir closes his eye. Maybe in his next life he’ll be a decent Pokémon. One worthy of respect. Of adoration.

Of love.

“Gah...”

Dusknoir groans. Why does it feel so cold all of a sudden..?

Wait.. cold?

He sees… ice… and feels… wind?

‘…What..?’

He slowly gets up; using his hands to suspend himself in the air. He looks around- only to see himself back.

Back on the mountain.

He stares at his hands for an indeterminate amount of time before they begin to tremble. His expression contorted into one of self-loathing and confusion.

“W-we’re still here…” His fingers curl into fists.

“I didn’t disappear…! Wh-Why?!”

Dusknoir shouts; almost disgusted by the fact he was revived- rather than questioning how it was even possible in the first place. No. He doesn’t- He shouldn’t be here. It must’ve been some kind of mistake… That’s it. There’s no other logical explanation for why he should be still here. Perhaps the higher being that brought him back into this world will immediately realize their error, and make swift work of him.

“We… we truly are still here…” Grovyle lamented, breathing a sigh of what would be an overwhelming rush relief. Celebi begins to flutter her wings happily around the grass-type.

“Wonderful!! I don’t know why we were fading and didn’t disappear…” She twirls, overjoyous now having gained all her strength back. “…But everyone is safe!! Oh my beloved..! Isn’t this just an amazing wonderful thing?!”

Grovyle chuckles heartedly. “It is.”

Unfortunately among the three; the ghost type was not experiencing the same joy as the grass type pokemon. Dusknoir had been drowning out half of their words of cheer and relief with thoughts of contempt. Self-depricational thoughts clouded the ghost-type’s mind as he kept searching for logical answers for his revival… Everyone else made sense. But why him of all Pokémon..?!

“Why..? Wh-Why me..?” Dusknoir whispered to himself dejectedly; mirroring his words from when his Sableye ‘betrayed’ him.

The only difference being how genuine it was.

Pr- Dialga had appeared to explain the whole situation to the trio. Once that had been done, Grovyle, and Celebi walked and flew individually near the edge of the mountain to feel the sun on their skins; their accomplishments finally having been paid off, soaking in the sun…

……Dusknoir, however; had stayed in the exact spot he’d been revived. His thoughts plagued him. This was not his victory. This was not for him to enjoy. What was he to do now..? Live his life as if nothing happened..? As if he didn’t hurt countless Pokémon..? Guilt had almost immediately begun to eat away at the ghost-type. He looks down at his hands one last time... Perhaps death would’ve been too good for a despicable Pokémon such as himself. The torment of being alive, and living with what he had done seemed like a fitting and ironic enough punishment… but that wasn’t what truly scared him.

Far from it, in fact.

Without a doubt in Dusknoir’s mind; Grovyle and Celebi would want to return back to the past… perhaps not this very instant; but at a given point. And when that time finally arrives…

Dusknoir stares at the Passage of Time facing him. Almost mocking him.

…He’d have to face them.

“…” Dusknoir clenches his fists tightly; his brow furrowing.

…The mere thought of confronting those two again- No no no no no. He- he should have disappeared. Death would’ve been a mercy. He can’t face them- not again. Looking at the same two children he tried to slaughter with his bare hands mere hours ago face-to-face..? Dusknoir’s fists tremble as his terror consumes him. What would they say..? Let alone think..? They’d run at the mere sight of him. He…

He doesn’t want to scare them.

He doesn’t want to hurt them.

He..

…Now he has something else to be afraid of.

#pmd eos #pmd writing tag #Another Dusknoir-centric fic I worked on!!! :D I hope you like it!!#this took me like a week on and off #also second time writing!! YIPPEE!!!#I’m still not as good but I’m still having lots of fun and learning !!#anyways. I need to see that old man on the floor writhing in agony.#/j BUT YKNOW #dadnoir

62 notes · View notes

pyromaniac-cyndaquil · 23 days

Text

*taps mic* hey what if the pokémon in the dark future just don't age at all, since time stopped? not suggesting that's canon but I think it'd be a really interesting angle to explore things from. potentially, any pokemon living there would be functionally immortal if food and water were easy to come by, and if it wasn't for all the other pokemon who tend to lash out and get violent (like spiritomb) due to the state of the world.

Everyone living in the future wasn't born there, nobody can even have children any more, just as nobody can grow up or evolve. Despite them all having seen the sun back before this all started, they've been in this state for so long that they've forgotten anything about what that was like, or even that they saw it at all. It's all just one big, neverchanging blur that's always been the same, forever. They've always been this age. They've only ever seen the planet paralysed. Nothing's ever been different.

I think that'd probably add quite a bit to Grovyle, hero and Celebi's decision to go back and fix things, too. Disappearing would almost definitely be better than living forever in a miserable world that never changes with no end in sight, especially if they couldn't even remember their beginnings. At least then, other people get a chance.

(it would also mean there'd definitely be versions of all of them that still exist after fixing time, not that they'd have any way of knowing that. but it'd be fine for them to exist without any harm to the world at all)

#pokemon #pmd #pmd eos #grovyle #celebi #i think it'd probably also give dusknoir a very different outlook to them for more than just cowardice #if he's a ghost type he's probably expected to live a lot longer anyway if not forever y'know? maybe he remembers more or is less bothered #but ofc very VERY bothered by the idea of disappearing #been working on drafting a pmd au fic and been thinking about the dark future a lot.#probably won't use this for it but thought it was interesting enough to share

32 notes · View notes

scribz-ag24 · 5 months

Text

feeling a bit art blocked with pmd rn i need more future trio ideas help

#i sketched out some fancomic for a futuretrioshipping fic #but i cant find the enrgy to draw it ughhh #pmd2 #future trio #celebi #grovyle #dusknoir #my art #pmd hero

147 notes · View notes

sincerely-sofie · 5 months

Text

HEY GUYS: The Present is a Gift’s first draft is now 100% DONE!

Everybody give a round of applause!

The manuscript currently sits at 59,000+ words, well over 200 pages, and will now enter a two-week-ish long rest period! After the two weeks are up (which will be on January 1st, 2024), I’ll start the process of editing the fic from start to finish as well as working on illustrating the first batch of chapters. I’ll continue posting PMD content, so this won’t change too much for any of you, but I wanted to give an update on the fic’s status!

Thanks to everyone who expressed excitement or support for this project. Without you, I couldn’t have done this! TPiaG is the first project I’ve ever finished a full manuscript for, so this is huge for me. Thank you!

#stuff by sofie #sofie checks in #the present is a gift au #pokémon mystery dungeon #pmd #pmd sky #pmd explorers #pmd eos #pmd2 #pmd au #pmd fic #pmd fanfic #pokemon mystery dungeon

90 notes · View notes

the-present-is-a-gift-au · 3 months

Text

Chapter 9: In Which the Future Trio are Paid a Visit

Twig knocked on the front door of the Future Trio’s home with the world weighing on her shoulders. Celebi was the one to answer. “Twig, dear, it’s been too long! I couldn’t believe—”

She cut off abruptly when she caught sight of the shadowy figure looming over Twig’s shoulder. Curiously, her expression wasn’t one of terror or fury like Dusknoir and Grovyle wore when they peered through the doorway as well. She regarded Darkrai with a look of… disorientation, almost. Like she was suddenly seeing double and trying to discern what exactly she was staring at. It stirred up some old memory from meeting Celebi in the Dark Future after Team Venture’s brush with death, but she didn’t have time to dwell on the memory when Grovyle was readying an attack and Dusknoir was following shortly behind him.

She gestured to her plus-one. “This is Darkrai. Or Ark. Whichever name you want to use. I met him at Mount Travail. He lost his memories just like I did, so I've been helping him out since we met. Be nice to him. He's sensitive.”

Darkrai regarded her with a look of quiet curiosity, but said nothing. Grovyle and Dusknoir warily dismissed their forming attacks, and Celebi continued to squint at Twig and Darkrai.

"Darkrai, these are the guys I was telling you about— Celebi, and Grovyle, and Dusknoir." She indicated each one as she named them, then put on a strained smile. "Is dinner ready? I'm starved."

The food was great, as it always was, but the meal itself was the most awkward thing Twig had ever gone through, and Grovyle staring at her worriedly the whole time didn't make it any easier. Darkrai made regular attempts at polite conversation, but Dusknoir and Grovyle only ever responded in the most minimalistic ways one could imagine. Celebi meanwhile, despite her insistence before now that if she ever saw Darkrai again she would kill him on sight, was enthusiastically chatting with the same person who had sent her entire timeline into ruin, and she was doing so with a cordialness Twig hadn’t foreseen.

When the moon was high overhead, Grovyle indicated a room for Darkrai to sleep in and a separate one for Twig. When it was Kip and her visiting, it was always one room that they stayed in together. She guessed Grovyle saw her exhaustion and decided to remedy it however he could. Bless him. Even with her distance from Darkrai, though, Twig’s nightmares persisted. She woke up countless times clutching her arm and whimpering in pain. She was a mess come morning.

Grovyle was up, being the fellow early riser that he was, and watching the sunrise in the grasses on the edge of the Future Trio’s property. Twig sat down heavily beside him and flopped onto her back in the grass.

"What happened, Twig?" Asked Grovyle.

"It's what I said. Found him while I was delving at Mount Travail. He was shocked that I knew who he was because he had amnesia, and I brought him home. He's been my roommate since then."

"You need to kick him out. At minimum."

"Why?"

"Do I need to say it? Look at you. You're worse off than I've ever seen you since we reunited, maybe even worse than when we first met. You're putting yourself in danger to be kind to this moralless, untrustworthy—"

"I'm not doing this to be kind to him. I'm doing this to make sure he stays in line. I can't risk taking my eyes off the guy and having him remember how much he enjoyed world domination, Grovyle. It's— It’s bread and circuses for the Legend who almost took over the world. Keep him distracted and complacent. That sort of thing, you know?"

Grovyle didn't look like he believed her.

"Besides, who knows. Maybe some wacky shenanigans will happen and he and I will become best friends. It happened with you and Dusknoir, didn’t it?”

He bristled. “That isn’t the same, Twig,” he said lowly. “Dusknoir changed of his own volition. It wasn’t like this, where Darkrai is a disaster waiting to happen. Besides that— you’re not well.”

“I’m doing great,” she bit out.

“Have you looked in the mirror lately?”

Twig didn’t grace that with a response.

“Twig, I’m worried. Just tell me the truth. Are you okay?”

She tossed an arm over her eyes and grumbled an indistinct answer, and didn’t react further to his nagging.

***

Hours after the rest of the household had started their days, Celebi finally rose from bed, with Darkrai following shortly. They chatted quietly in the kitchen, discussing interdimensional auras, temporal entropy, and other topics that made no sense to a non-Legend. Twig watched them for a moment before turning to Dusknoir as he read, seated on the floor of the main room, and steeled herself.

He looked up when she approached, impassive expression flickering with worry.

"I need to ask you something," she said. Then after a few nervous heartbeats quietly added, "Privately."

He set his book aside and followed her out into the forest along the property's edge. Grovyle stood up from where he was knelt in the garden as they walked out. She waved off his look of concern with a dismissive motion. I'm fine. Don't worry about it. He was, yet again, visibly unconvinced, but didn't follow after them.

Dusknoir folded his arms behind his back when Twig came to a stop, finally satisfied that no one would be in view or earshot of the conversation she was dreading having, and calmly asked her, "What is your question?"

She opened and closed her mouth several times, put up a hand or started a gesture in order to begin only to falter halfway through the motion, and finally just sagged, shoulders drooping and head bowed, with a groan. "I guess it's less of a ‘question’ sort of thing and more of a ‘me running my mouth off and you telling me if I'm crazy’ sort of thing."

"Alright." He settled onto the forest floor, and the effort to get closer to her eye level was appreciated, especially when he motioned to a branch on a nearby tree that was closer to his own. "Run your mouth off, then, so I can assess your craziness. Keep in mind that you're not going to be told you're totally sane, though. I know you enough to say a description like that would be madness in itself."

The joke fell utterly flat in the face of her anxiety. But it was nice of him to try and ease the tension, at least. She clambered up and sat down on the branch, putting her face level with his brow, and wrung her hands. She had recited everything she wanted to say so many times in her head on the way here, and now all of it seemed inadequate and pointless.

"Breathe. Then start at the beginning," Dusknoir lightly instructed, jolting her from her thoughts. "Rip the bandage off quick."

Alright. Inhale slowly, exhale slowly. Stop agonizing and start talking. “My aunt would hurt me when I was a human. Like, hit me and stuff. A lot.” She wasn't looking at his face when she said it, but she could see him go stiff and still in the corner of her vision. “It was something that she'd do because I back-talked or acted up, and if it was really bad, she'd get out a lighter and— uh— b-but I forgot about anything happening when I became a charmander. It came back a while after you— uh—” She swerved hard around what she was about to say, pivoting her choice of words. “— after Kip and I came to the Dark Future, in little bits and pieces over time. I didn't tell anybody for ages, because it's dumb and embarrassing, and I wasn't going to, but… Well, Darkrai can visit people's nightmares, right? So he figured it out. He didn't say anything, and it was…" She paused. "Okay, he did say some things, but only in ways I understood. Nobody else picked up on it. But it freaked me out, and— well— yeah.

“That was before he lost his memories. But he figured it out again after that, and it's been messing with my head, even though he hasn't talked about it since he found out. Like, he hasn't mentioned anything. Not a peep. He's not exactly who he was before the whole amnesia thing, so he might not ever say anything, but I can't stop thinking about how he might. It's not a zero percent chance. It's just so stupid, because even if his memories did come back he probably wouldn't talk, but I'm stuck thinking about what if he does, and I… yeah."

Silence.

"So. Um. How crazy am I on a scale of one to ten?" She joked, turning to the man next to her and immediately regretting her attempt at humor.

Dusknoir had his eye behind a hand, arm crossed over his stomach, effectively hiding his face as he hunched in on himself.

"… Sorry for unloading on you," she murmured. "It's dumb. I shouldn't have said anything."

"Your… When you…" He tersely muttered a prayer and lowered his hand, looking up at her. "I— Thank you for telling me. I'm honored you trusted me enough to tell me. You did the right thing in telling me—"

"You can drop the script Magnezone gave you, man. I'm not a kid."

"—And you didn't deserve any of the mistreatment you received."

Something in her bristled at that. "I did, actually. But it's in the past. Or Future, or whatever," she hissed under her breath. She crossed her arms, looking down and away. "Forget I said anything, it was messed up for me to bother you with this junk."

"What did you say?"

"To forget about—"

"Before that."

"I said I deserved it and that it's done with, so whatever." She narrowed her eyes, glancing at him from the corners of her vision. He looked disgusted. "Yeah, look, I know it'd take some messed up stuff to deserve that sort of thing, but I was messed up. It's not on her. You don't have to worry about it."

“How on earth could a child deserve to be treated so repulsively?”

“I did a lot of awful things on top of being a legendary brat most days. Don't worry about it.”

“Twig. Answer me. What could you have done to deserve… You mentioned a lighter, those devices humans used to start fires? Arceus, how could you deserve such a thing being used on you?”

Her response came out small, timid. “I hurt a lot of people.”

“We all do. That doesn't mean any of us deserve to be abused by our kin.”

“No, like— I physically hurt them. Humans lived in bunkers when I grew up, and I'm the only one left from mine. And that's because of me. It's because of me an entire bunker is dead. It's my fault that hundreds of people are dead and gone, because I was a crybaby who couldn't handle getting batted around a bit here and there.” She cast him a weary, angry glance. “I'm pretty sure killing an entire community of men, women, and children counts as something that would make me deserve that kind of thing.”

His brow furrowed. “How could you manage to—?”

“By leaving my bunker. There was a fire, and the doors locked themselves behind me. No one else could get out, and they all burned or suffocated to death. Not a pretty way to go, you can guess, so I definitely had some preemptive karma going on with my aunt.”

There was a pause. “Preemptive,” Dusknoir echoed. “Am I right when I say, then, that you suffered for years before the supposed justification for your pain took place?”

Twig didn't respond.

“How did this fire start?”

“It just did,” she said too fast for it to be the truth. Dusknoir saw through it and asked again. “Look, I don't want to talk about— ugh. My aunt started it. I blabbed about her hurting me worse than normal to one of my teachers, and she was going to be arrested because it was real bad apparently—” Dusknoir made a choked sound beside her, but she pointedly ignored it— “So she started a fire to try and use it as cover for her to get out of trouble with. Probably. I dunno. Never got to ask her. I ran when I heard she was being detained because she always said that if something like that happened… Well, I didn't want to see if she was bluffing with what she told me. I ran, I left my bunker, and because of that these big bolts that lock the exit doors activated and trapped everyone inside behind me. It's my fault they all died in there.”

Dusknoir was silent for a long time. “How old were you upon coming to the surface?" He asked with a heavily fettered anger to his words.

"That doesn't matter. What happened is what happened, and it's done."

"Humor me."

She gritted her teeth. "I was six."

He took in a sharp breath and let it out in a low hiss. "You were a child young enough to not have even lived through ten winters. You fled because you were intimidated and abused by a wretch of a woman, and the mechanisms of your home failed. You can't be expected to hold the blame for a tragedy in which so many passed in an unfortunate way—"

"You can just say I cooked them, man. It's fine. And believe me, I'm not some poor little survivor or whatever you're thinking of me as. I was the worst kid anyone ever met. People hated me.”

“And who told you that?”

Twig gritted her teeth, silent.

"Even if you were an unpleasant child— which I honestly doubt— the blame for any escalation would not have been on your shoulders whatsoever. You were a child."

That stung somewhere deep in the back of her mind. "Thanks for trying to reassure me, but you're wrong. I was awful and I deserved every lick of pain I got.”

Dusknoir glared at her. "Whether or not you deserved anything doesn't matter. No one should lay a hand on you, regardless of whatever they might think you've earned. Would you say Azurill or Marill would deserve the treatment you received, were they in your place?” Her stomach seized at just the thought, and he continued. “No. You wouldn't. Because you know, even if you deny it, that what was done to you was wrong. What you deserved was safety and care, not to be made the victim of such cruel, unfair retribution.”

"Nice speech, still wrong. Bye." She hopped down from the branch and got three steps toward the house before Dusknoir caught her by the scruff and brought her level with his narrow glare. "Dude, what gives?!" She spat, clawing at his fingers.

"What gives is you're refusing to accept your complete innocence and acknowledge the perpetrator's sole responsibility for what was done. You were an innocent bystander; a child."

"I don't count!"

"You do."

"No, I don't!"

"Why do you believe that?"

"I told you— I killed my entire bunker!"

"And did that matter?"

“Put me down, you lousy piece of—"

"Did that matter?"

She paused, claws stilling in their furious assault on the hand holding her aloft, brows furrowing as she held his unyielding, though not unkind, gaze— the question sinking in. "… What?"

"Did you really kill them?" Arceus, he sounded so tired. “Did you kill them, or did you survive them?”

Silence.

“Anyone else could have been the first to flee. Anyone else could have gone through the exit before you. And then it would be them in your place, cursing themself for having lived where others died. You didn't will the mechanisms to fail, nor did you sabotage them. All you did was have the misfortune of surviving alone.”

She slowly lowered her claws from his fingers, curling her hands in to her chest. When she finally looked away from him without any rebuttal to spit, it felt like she'd been skinned alive— like her outer layers were all peeled away until there was nothing left but a dripping, bloody wound where she once stood.

Silence.

"… Put me down," she repeated.

He did so, and settled onto the ground beside her.

There was quiet for a long moment as they sat. Twig drew her knees up to her chest, hugged them close, and hunched her shoulders in as she stared at the ground by her feet.

Dusknoir spoke in a steady tone— firm but understanding as he brought their conversation back to Twig's initial concern. "Don't blame yourself for what was done to you by your kin. Don't blame yourself for fearing the ability to tell someone yourself being removed from you. But most of all, do not blame yourself for surviving. You were spared. Others were not. You surely feel disoriented and disgusted by that fact. But there is nothing to be done about the past but to continue living."

Those last words echoed in her skull. It hit her that he was speaking from experience, and a number of things clicked into place.

(He had mentioned there being other servants of Primal Dialga. Yet by the time they had entered the Dark Future, only he and the sableye enjoyed such a rank. She'd seen scars on him that didn't fade, a hallmark of a wound dealt by a Legend.

(It wasn't the same as her upbringing. Nothing would be. But if she thought about it, “As you wish, my lord” sounded dangerously close to “I'll go get the lighter, Auntie.”)

“You were a child,” he repeated, and his words felt like antiseptic on an open wound.

A few strangled tears slipped from her, and she managed to hold back most of her pitiful, weepy noises. But when she continued to sniffle and shake, Dusknoir set a kind hand over her shoulder— or over her entire upper arm, rather, with his size— and Twig, deciding that he could be a part of the Don't lose a hand when you touch Twig club, let all the years of swallowing back the need to scream and sob finally excise themselves.

***

To say she got worried looks upon returning to the house was an understatement. She knew it must have been clear in her face that she was crying, and Dusknoir’s clawed-up hand certainly didn’t help ease any concerns. Darkrai’s subtle worry was the most unnerving, though she knew Grovyle’s blatant fretting meant she was in for a discussion she didn’t want to have. Dusknoir set a hand on his shoulder as he made to approach when she started for the guest room— murmured something about allowing her time to collect herself— and Twig didn’t linger long enough to react to Grovyle’s heart-wrenching expression of concern. She locked the door and let herself collapse onto the bed, boneless and hollowed-out from her tears.

It was as if something had been ripped out of her as she wept at Dusknoir’s side. She felt like she’d had a tangled, knotted mass extracted from deep within her ribs. It wasn’t a bad sort of feeling, but it was definitely different than the constant lump in her throat she was used to. It was strange. Certainly not unpleasant, but not exactly good either.

She didn’t sleep that night, only stared at the wall in a numb daze. It wasn’t a bad night. But it wasn’t exactly a good one, either.

Grovyle was up when she rose the next morning. She murmured a greeting and poured herself a cup of whatever was heating in a kettle on the stovetop. It was a lukewarm magost berry tea, and the lack of steeping made it distinctly unpalatable. She drank it regardless.

He watched her drink for a moment. She avoided eye contact.

“Twig,” he finally said, “you’re being reckless.”

She did not need another ‘Let’s unearth all of Twig’s shortcomings and bring them up for review’ session so soon. She took another swig of the tea and looked away from Grovyle entirely.

“What if Darkrai’s memories return? What do you do then? You’re living with him. Who’s to say that he won’t recall his past and decide to kill you in your sleep?”

“That won’t happen,” she muttered.

“How can you say that so confidently? It’s a possibility! You don’t know for certain that it won’t happen—”

“The Darkrai I knew isn’t ever coming back, Grovyle! He’s gone. So I'd better get used to it already. I don’t need you driving in the fears that things will change when they never will! Darkrai is gone, he’s dead. So I should start acting like it, and you should too!” With those last words, she rounded on him, teeth bared and the flame at the end of her tail bright in the dim room.

She had never seen Grovyle look so defeated.

“I…” She swallowed hard. Why was he staring at her like that? Why was he—

Oh.

Darkrai wasn’t the only person who had lost their memories. He wasn’t the only one who had changed beyond recognition. He wasn’t the only one who people had to relearn how to act around when they used to know him well.

“I’m sorry,” she forced out. “I didn’t mean it like— I didn’t—” She gritted her teeth for a moment longer, then stormed out with another stammered apology.

Arceus, she felt awful. And she knew Grovyle felt even worse.

Good job, idiot.

***

Twig didn’t say goodbye when she left the next morning. She’d already done enough damage— it’s not like she needed to rub into Grovyle’s face that she was too stupid to know how to fix the damage she’d done to him and what friendship had been recovered between them. Darkrai was up and about in the main room already when she got up to leave, long enough before sunrise that even Grovyle hadn't risen for the day. She didn’t tell him they were leaving. Darkrai understood without her saying so— just rose up silently and followed behind her as she locked the front door after them with the spare key she’d been gifted.

At some point on the homeward trek, Darkrai spoke. “I don’t mean to seem as though I doubt you, but I still find it necessary to clarify how exactly we knew each other before my memories were lost.”

Twig found herself picking up the pace out of an instinctual need to flee— she had to purposefully slow her strides. “I already said you were a do-gooder type, man. You traveled all around, and my exploration team partner and I traveled too. We were bound to bump into each other at some point, and we got to know you a bit whenever we did.”

A pause. “This doesn’t explain why you and your companions are all so wary of me.”

“What?”

“Surely you noticed how Grovyle and Dusknoir reacted upon witnessing my arrival? They were ready to strike me down— or at the very least give their greatest effort in doing so.”

She chewed at the inside of her cheek. “That’s just them— they’re weird and nervous about new people. I’m not scared of you, Darkrai. Trust me.”

He didn’t respond further. She could only hope that he didn’t notice the waver in her voice at her final words as they traveled through snowdrifts and frost to Verdant Village.

#the present is a gift au #pmd eos #pmd fanfic #pmd explorers #pmd fanfiction #pmd fic #pmd2 #pokemon mystery dungeon #pmd sky

13 notes · View notes