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nishatalithaI'm bored. I'm so bored I might go to bed soon. Just whiled away the last twenty minutes reading an okay MFU fic, but other than that, there is no fic! Where is the fic? My life is so boring.
Also, as I threatened someone with earlier this year, here is the Pokemon fic that I wrote last year when I was in Masterton.
Disclaimer: Nope, not mine.
Warning: Ash/ Pikachu, transformations
Rating: PG-13
Summary A: Pikachu really, really loves Ash, but Ash won't look at him as a Pokemon. What would be different if he was human?
Summary B: Waiting in Cloudy City for Misty and Brock, Ash and Pikachu come across this strange junk shop with an even stranger owner, who decides that Pikachu is the perfect vehicle for one of his experiments.
Unbeta'd
For most of Pikachu’s life, for almost as long as he could remember, he had loved Ash. Ash was his master, his trainer, and Pikachu only dimly remembered not liking Ash when he’d first been captured. Now that was inconceivable, and Pikachu adored Ash, and would happily do anything for him.
Pikachu was sure that Ash loved him as well. Hadn’t Ash said so? Wasn’t he the only Pokémon that Ash never summoned back to the Pokéball? Didn’t Ash always let him run around and stay with him?
Pikachu knew that Ash was lonely. He wasn’t sure what Ash wanted, but it upset him to see Ash sad, and he would go over to him, wriggle his way into the boy’s lap and nuzzle his head against Ash’s chin. Most of the time that would make Ash smile, hug him and say: “I don’t know what I’d do without you, Pikachu.” And then Ash would be happy again, and Pikachu would say even closer than usual for the next few days.
The other Pokémon liked Ash and happily did things for him, but they didn’t love Ash the way that Pikachu did. Even Togepi, who stayed out with Misty most of time didn’t love her the way Pikachu loved Ash. Togepi thought Pikachu was silly for loving Ash as he did. He understood some of how, of why Pikachu felt that way, having been on more of their adventures than most. But the other Pokémon Pikachu met hadn’t, and so they didn’t understand. Ash’s other Pokémon sort of understood, and everytime that Ash let them out they understood further.
Pikachu sighed, a long “Chuuuuuuu,” coming from him. Ash was acting lonely again, because Misty and Brock only had eyes for each other. Again. He went over to Ash and climbed into his lap, and tried to cheer him up, but nothing worked.
Ash stood up and brushed the dirt off his jeans. “I think I’ll go for a walk, guys.”
“Sure, Ash.” Brock and Misty hardly looked up.
“Pika!” You’re not going anywhere without me.
“Of course you can come, Pikachu,” Ash laughed fondly. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
“Pika,” agreed Pikachu, content that Ash wasn’t going without him. He bounded along behind or beside Ash, watching as Ash kicked the ground moodily. “Pikachu.” Snap out of it, master.
Ash sighed. “You’re right. I have been a bit down lately. I should cheer up.”
“Pika.” That’s right. Talk yourself out of it.
“I just wish they wouldn’t forget about me all the time.”
“Pikachu.” I don’t forget about you.
“I know.” Ash brightened. “We’ll go ahead to Cloudy City, and they can meet us there. Does that sound like a good plan to you, Pikachu?”
“Pika pika pikachu,” he agreed, bouncing. Anything would be better than Ash moping here all the time, and it would be good to see Cloudy City again. Besides, there were some Pokémon there that he wanted to see. And one human.
Cloudy City
Ash looked around at the crowds and moved deftly through them until they were in an area with less people in it. Then he went to find them a room for the night. Most of the places here were taken, and he went to the inn with the only Vacancy sign that he could see.
“There’s a big tournament this weekend,” the friendly innkeeper said. “I’ve only got one room left. Are you going to fight in it?”
“I might,” said Ash.
“Pika.” Could be a good idea.
“And who’s this?” the man asked, leaning over the desk. “A pikachu. Is it yours?”
“I’m sorry,” said Ash hastily. “I’m Ash, and this is Pikachu.” Pikachu leaped up into his arms.
“Hello, Pikachu.”
“Pikachu.” Hi. Nice to meet you.
“Would you like to see your room now, Ash?”
“Yes, please.”
The attic room was lovely. It had bare, sun-warmed wooden floors, and large windows cracked open to allow a cooling breeze in. A double bed stood at the opposite end to the one they were at, with a wardrobe beside them. Pikachu went in, and sniffed approvingly. Sun and cleanliness. No dust, and the cleaning products had worn off and didn’t make him sneeze.
“Pika,” he said approvingly. This is nice, Ash. Let’s stay.
“It’s wonderful,” Ash said. “We’ll be happy staying here. I’ll have some friends joining me shortly, too.”
“That’s fine. Just get them to sign in when they arrive. If you can just come back down again and sign for it please. You can leave your stuff up here. Here’s your key.”
“Thanks,” said Ash. He dropped his pack on the ground and Pikachu followed the two of them downstairs, waiting for Ash as he signed and paid for the room, two nights in advance.
“Pikachu.” Let’s go for a walk. He sat by the door.
“You wanna go for a walk, Pikachu? I guess we could. I don’t see why not.”
Pikachu was aware that Ash needed company. It didn’t always have to be human company, but that helped. He didn’t entirely understand why others didn’t think Ash was as wonderful as he did. He wished he could talk, like Meowth could, or was telepathic, like Lapras. Then Ash would always have someone to talk to who could talk back.
“Chuuuuuu,” he sighed.
“Pikachu? Are you all right?”
“Pika.” I'm fine. But you’re not. Even so, Pikachu happily allowed himself to be carried rather than walking.
“I’m sorry, Pikachu. I haven’t been very good company lately.”
“Pika.” That’s all right.
“Hey – what’s in there? Let’s have a look.” Ash pointed to the dark entrance of an antique store. Pikachu eyed it warily. In his experience, such things rarely turned out to be good news. Still, it smelt interesting, and not bad. He could hear Pokémon in there, and maybe they could help him.
“Pika,” he said dubiously. I don’t know, Ash.
“Oh, come on. It’ll be fine,” said Ash.
Ash started towards the entranceway, taking Pikachu with him. They went into the store. It was crowded with junk, not things, and both Ash and Pikachu paused before an old, tarnished mirror to look at their distorted features.
There were dim electric lights flickering overhead, and stuff was piled high upon the shelves, making the path through the aisles somewhat precarious. Ash continued carrying Pikachu, reasoning that this way; he would be the only one to knock anything over. He sneezed as his footsteps raised clouds of dust.
They reached the front of the store. An eclectic collection of weapons hung on the wall behind the counter, and Ash pointed them out to Pikachu. “Look. Real weapons. There’s a sword… lots of swords, and guns and I don’t know what that one is…”
“They are for sale, young man.”
“I’m sorry,” said Ash. “I’m only looking. I don’t actually want to buy anything.”
“Keep looking,” the shopkeeper advised. “You may change your mind.”
“I will,” Ash said, laughing.
“Pika.” I doubt it.
“Oh,” said the man. “I have a policy about no pets or Pokémon being allowed loose in my store. There’s so much here that’s fragile, you see.” He gestured to the stacked plates on one set of shelves and the china figurines on others. “So you can either return your friend to his Pokéball, or he can stay up here with me, and wait for you.”
“Pikachu?”
“Pika.” I’ll stay up there.
“I guess he wants to talk to you.”
“Oh, good,” said the man. “I don’t get to see very many Pokémon here, and I don’t get out much.”
Ash went and wandered around. Pikachu sat on the counter and watched the shopkeeper.
“You don’t trust me, do you?” he asked.
“Chu,” agreed Pikachu. No.
“I don’t mean any harm towards your master.”
“Piiiika?” Really?
“I’m just experimenting on a device that allows Pokémon and their trainers to understand each other.”
“Pikachu.” I understand Ash.
“I’m sure you understand your master, but does he understand you?”
“Pika.” Sometimes.
“Would you like to try it on?”
The desire to be able to speak properly with Ash overwhelmed his usual common sense. “Pi. Pikachu.” Yes. I think so.
“I’ll just go and get it.” He vanished into the back room, coming out with a device with metal straps on it. He fitted the metal bands around Pikachu’s head, and plugged it in. Pikachu could hear the wiring humming with the sound of unused electricity. It was a comforting sound to him, much as watching lightening reminded him of who he was.
“Now, you want English.”
“Pika.” If that’s what Ash speaks.
“And you’ll want that and that and that,” he continued, fiddling with dials. “Right. Are you ready?”
Pikachu nodded. The metal bands were heavy, but the electricity hummed comfortingly through them.
“Here we go then.”
He flicked the switch.
Pikachu could hear/feel/see the difference immediately. The electricity became louder, less humming, and more singing. Lightening flickered through his veins, as though he was about to make an attack on another Pokémon. His view of the shop changed. Lightening crackled in front of his eyes, and he could feel an aching in his bones.
He could tell when the shopkeeper changed something in the set up. The feel of the electricity was heavier, harsher, rougher, and not at all comforting. It started to hurt, and he cried out. Or was that Ash shouting something.
Then something exploded and everything went black.
He sat up cautiously, head aching. The shop wasn’t completely destroyed, but the windows had blown out, and the ceramics were all shattered. He twitched an ear, trying to listen for the sound of Ash’s breathing or heartbeat, but he couldn’t hear anything. Sound was different, and everything seemed a lot smaller.
He was behind the counter, now. He could see the swords above his head. He sat up, ready to go and find Ash. He felt different. Pikachu looked down at his… hands.
“What happened?” he creaked? His tongue seemed to know the shape of the words he wanted without his directing it. It felt strange to be speaking in words. Words that Ash would understand.
“Ash?”
“Ha!” said a familiar looking man. “It worked! And another Pokémon has been freed from the tyranny of its master. Have these clothes, and leave now, before he wakes up.”
Pikachu ignored him. “Ash?”
“You want your master? You ungrateful sod,” shouted the man.
He stood up unsteadily, and moved towards the counter, trying several times with the latch before getting it open. It was strange to have an opposable thumb to work with, rather than his familiar, small paws. He lifted his feet carefully, trying not to step on any of the shards of metal with his bare feet. A breeze whistled in from the shattered windows, dancing over his bare skin, and clearing the dust out. Even with the dust heavy in the air, the room was a lot lighter with the broken windows.
“Ash?”
“Oh, gods, my head.”
He could hear Ash. Pikachu carefully moved towards the sound of his voice. Ash looked up at him and screamed.
The sound was startling. Pikachu wasn’t used to Ash screaming at the sight of him. He jumped, and fell over backwards, unused to this particular form of bipedalism. Fortunately, he landed in a pile of rags by the counter, because this bare skin didn’t seem to be nearly as comfortable as fur.
“Oooff.”
Ash ignored him, clambering to his feet, and leaning over the counter, looking for something. “Pikachu? Pikachu…”
“I’m here.”
“What?”
He hauled himself to his own feet, using the counter near his head as leverage. “It’s me. Pikachu.”
“You’re Pikachu?”
...
There is no more. Be glad.
So, I am all about the boredom. Maybe I will just go to bed.
Also, as I threatened someone with earlier this year, here is the Pokemon fic that I wrote last year when I was in Masterton.
Disclaimer: Nope, not mine.
Warning: Ash/ Pikachu, transformations
Rating: PG-13
Summary A: Pikachu really, really loves Ash, but Ash won't look at him as a Pokemon. What would be different if he was human?
Summary B: Waiting in Cloudy City for Misty and Brock, Ash and Pikachu come across this strange junk shop with an even stranger owner, who decides that Pikachu is the perfect vehicle for one of his experiments.
Unbeta'd
For most of Pikachu’s life, for almost as long as he could remember, he had loved Ash. Ash was his master, his trainer, and Pikachu only dimly remembered not liking Ash when he’d first been captured. Now that was inconceivable, and Pikachu adored Ash, and would happily do anything for him.
Pikachu was sure that Ash loved him as well. Hadn’t Ash said so? Wasn’t he the only Pokémon that Ash never summoned back to the Pokéball? Didn’t Ash always let him run around and stay with him?
Pikachu knew that Ash was lonely. He wasn’t sure what Ash wanted, but it upset him to see Ash sad, and he would go over to him, wriggle his way into the boy’s lap and nuzzle his head against Ash’s chin. Most of the time that would make Ash smile, hug him and say: “I don’t know what I’d do without you, Pikachu.” And then Ash would be happy again, and Pikachu would say even closer than usual for the next few days.
The other Pokémon liked Ash and happily did things for him, but they didn’t love Ash the way that Pikachu did. Even Togepi, who stayed out with Misty most of time didn’t love her the way Pikachu loved Ash. Togepi thought Pikachu was silly for loving Ash as he did. He understood some of how, of why Pikachu felt that way, having been on more of their adventures than most. But the other Pokémon Pikachu met hadn’t, and so they didn’t understand. Ash’s other Pokémon sort of understood, and everytime that Ash let them out they understood further.
Pikachu sighed, a long “Chuuuuuuu,” coming from him. Ash was acting lonely again, because Misty and Brock only had eyes for each other. Again. He went over to Ash and climbed into his lap, and tried to cheer him up, but nothing worked.
Ash stood up and brushed the dirt off his jeans. “I think I’ll go for a walk, guys.”
“Sure, Ash.” Brock and Misty hardly looked up.
“Pika!” You’re not going anywhere without me.
“Of course you can come, Pikachu,” Ash laughed fondly. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
“Pika,” agreed Pikachu, content that Ash wasn’t going without him. He bounded along behind or beside Ash, watching as Ash kicked the ground moodily. “Pikachu.” Snap out of it, master.
Ash sighed. “You’re right. I have been a bit down lately. I should cheer up.”
“Pika.” That’s right. Talk yourself out of it.
“I just wish they wouldn’t forget about me all the time.”
“Pikachu.” I don’t forget about you.
“I know.” Ash brightened. “We’ll go ahead to Cloudy City, and they can meet us there. Does that sound like a good plan to you, Pikachu?”
“Pika pika pikachu,” he agreed, bouncing. Anything would be better than Ash moping here all the time, and it would be good to see Cloudy City again. Besides, there were some Pokémon there that he wanted to see. And one human.
Cloudy City
Ash looked around at the crowds and moved deftly through them until they were in an area with less people in it. Then he went to find them a room for the night. Most of the places here were taken, and he went to the inn with the only Vacancy sign that he could see.
“There’s a big tournament this weekend,” the friendly innkeeper said. “I’ve only got one room left. Are you going to fight in it?”
“I might,” said Ash.
“Pika.” Could be a good idea.
“And who’s this?” the man asked, leaning over the desk. “A pikachu. Is it yours?”
“I’m sorry,” said Ash hastily. “I’m Ash, and this is Pikachu.” Pikachu leaped up into his arms.
“Hello, Pikachu.”
“Pikachu.” Hi. Nice to meet you.
“Would you like to see your room now, Ash?”
“Yes, please.”
The attic room was lovely. It had bare, sun-warmed wooden floors, and large windows cracked open to allow a cooling breeze in. A double bed stood at the opposite end to the one they were at, with a wardrobe beside them. Pikachu went in, and sniffed approvingly. Sun and cleanliness. No dust, and the cleaning products had worn off and didn’t make him sneeze.
“Pika,” he said approvingly. This is nice, Ash. Let’s stay.
“It’s wonderful,” Ash said. “We’ll be happy staying here. I’ll have some friends joining me shortly, too.”
“That’s fine. Just get them to sign in when they arrive. If you can just come back down again and sign for it please. You can leave your stuff up here. Here’s your key.”
“Thanks,” said Ash. He dropped his pack on the ground and Pikachu followed the two of them downstairs, waiting for Ash as he signed and paid for the room, two nights in advance.
“Pikachu.” Let’s go for a walk. He sat by the door.
“You wanna go for a walk, Pikachu? I guess we could. I don’t see why not.”
Pikachu was aware that Ash needed company. It didn’t always have to be human company, but that helped. He didn’t entirely understand why others didn’t think Ash was as wonderful as he did. He wished he could talk, like Meowth could, or was telepathic, like Lapras. Then Ash would always have someone to talk to who could talk back.
“Chuuuuuu,” he sighed.
“Pikachu? Are you all right?”
“Pika.” I'm fine. But you’re not. Even so, Pikachu happily allowed himself to be carried rather than walking.
“I’m sorry, Pikachu. I haven’t been very good company lately.”
“Pika.” That’s all right.
“Hey – what’s in there? Let’s have a look.” Ash pointed to the dark entrance of an antique store. Pikachu eyed it warily. In his experience, such things rarely turned out to be good news. Still, it smelt interesting, and not bad. He could hear Pokémon in there, and maybe they could help him.
“Pika,” he said dubiously. I don’t know, Ash.
“Oh, come on. It’ll be fine,” said Ash.
Ash started towards the entranceway, taking Pikachu with him. They went into the store. It was crowded with junk, not things, and both Ash and Pikachu paused before an old, tarnished mirror to look at their distorted features.
There were dim electric lights flickering overhead, and stuff was piled high upon the shelves, making the path through the aisles somewhat precarious. Ash continued carrying Pikachu, reasoning that this way; he would be the only one to knock anything over. He sneezed as his footsteps raised clouds of dust.
They reached the front of the store. An eclectic collection of weapons hung on the wall behind the counter, and Ash pointed them out to Pikachu. “Look. Real weapons. There’s a sword… lots of swords, and guns and I don’t know what that one is…”
“They are for sale, young man.”
“I’m sorry,” said Ash. “I’m only looking. I don’t actually want to buy anything.”
“Keep looking,” the shopkeeper advised. “You may change your mind.”
“I will,” Ash said, laughing.
“Pika.” I doubt it.
“Oh,” said the man. “I have a policy about no pets or Pokémon being allowed loose in my store. There’s so much here that’s fragile, you see.” He gestured to the stacked plates on one set of shelves and the china figurines on others. “So you can either return your friend to his Pokéball, or he can stay up here with me, and wait for you.”
“Pikachu?”
“Pika.” I’ll stay up there.
“I guess he wants to talk to you.”
“Oh, good,” said the man. “I don’t get to see very many Pokémon here, and I don’t get out much.”
Ash went and wandered around. Pikachu sat on the counter and watched the shopkeeper.
“You don’t trust me, do you?” he asked.
“Chu,” agreed Pikachu. No.
“I don’t mean any harm towards your master.”
“Piiiika?” Really?
“I’m just experimenting on a device that allows Pokémon and their trainers to understand each other.”
“Pikachu.” I understand Ash.
“I’m sure you understand your master, but does he understand you?”
“Pika.” Sometimes.
“Would you like to try it on?”
The desire to be able to speak properly with Ash overwhelmed his usual common sense. “Pi. Pikachu.” Yes. I think so.
“I’ll just go and get it.” He vanished into the back room, coming out with a device with metal straps on it. He fitted the metal bands around Pikachu’s head, and plugged it in. Pikachu could hear the wiring humming with the sound of unused electricity. It was a comforting sound to him, much as watching lightening reminded him of who he was.
“Now, you want English.”
“Pika.” If that’s what Ash speaks.
“And you’ll want that and that and that,” he continued, fiddling with dials. “Right. Are you ready?”
Pikachu nodded. The metal bands were heavy, but the electricity hummed comfortingly through them.
“Here we go then.”
He flicked the switch.
Pikachu could hear/feel/see the difference immediately. The electricity became louder, less humming, and more singing. Lightening flickered through his veins, as though he was about to make an attack on another Pokémon. His view of the shop changed. Lightening crackled in front of his eyes, and he could feel an aching in his bones.
He could tell when the shopkeeper changed something in the set up. The feel of the electricity was heavier, harsher, rougher, and not at all comforting. It started to hurt, and he cried out. Or was that Ash shouting something.
Then something exploded and everything went black.
He sat up cautiously, head aching. The shop wasn’t completely destroyed, but the windows had blown out, and the ceramics were all shattered. He twitched an ear, trying to listen for the sound of Ash’s breathing or heartbeat, but he couldn’t hear anything. Sound was different, and everything seemed a lot smaller.
He was behind the counter, now. He could see the swords above his head. He sat up, ready to go and find Ash. He felt different. Pikachu looked down at his… hands.
“What happened?” he creaked? His tongue seemed to know the shape of the words he wanted without his directing it. It felt strange to be speaking in words. Words that Ash would understand.
“Ash?”
“Ha!” said a familiar looking man. “It worked! And another Pokémon has been freed from the tyranny of its master. Have these clothes, and leave now, before he wakes up.”
Pikachu ignored him. “Ash?”
“You want your master? You ungrateful sod,” shouted the man.
He stood up unsteadily, and moved towards the counter, trying several times with the latch before getting it open. It was strange to have an opposable thumb to work with, rather than his familiar, small paws. He lifted his feet carefully, trying not to step on any of the shards of metal with his bare feet. A breeze whistled in from the shattered windows, dancing over his bare skin, and clearing the dust out. Even with the dust heavy in the air, the room was a lot lighter with the broken windows.
“Ash?”
“Oh, gods, my head.”
He could hear Ash. Pikachu carefully moved towards the sound of his voice. Ash looked up at him and screamed.
The sound was startling. Pikachu wasn’t used to Ash screaming at the sight of him. He jumped, and fell over backwards, unused to this particular form of bipedalism. Fortunately, he landed in a pile of rags by the counter, because this bare skin didn’t seem to be nearly as comfortable as fur.
“Oooff.”
Ash ignored him, clambering to his feet, and leaning over the counter, looking for something. “Pikachu? Pikachu…”
“I’m here.”
“What?”
He hauled himself to his own feet, using the counter near his head as leverage. “It’s me. Pikachu.”
“You’re Pikachu?”
...
There is no more. Be glad.
So, I am all about the boredom. Maybe I will just go to bed.
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(no subject)
Date: 2005-10-14 03:06 pm (UTC)