#fcssilized

Bastiodon, who’d been stretched out on the floor at the foot of the bed, had been woken up by the soft voice and moves to stand by the bedside next to Roark. Pokemon don’t have vivid dreams, so he can’t quite understand what’s got the little one feeling so upset, but a lack of understanding doesn’t mean he won’t do everything he can to provide comfort. He nudges Byron’s arm (just to make sure that he had been woken up) and reaches up his stubby little legs to clamber up onto the bed.

Byron, after having his arm shoved around by his well-meaning pokemon partner, sits up carefully, making sure not to disturb his wife still sleeping soundly next to him. He checks the time: it’s the early hours of the morning and only has a few more hours before he has to get up for work, but he can sacrifice some sleep for his son’s sake. Roark was still young and easily affected by the horrible images his sleeping mind could conjure up, and no father worth his salt would send him away while he was in such a state.

                      ❝  Yes, Roark, I’m okay. The things you saw were only part of a nightmare. They weren’t real.  ❞

Byron pushes back the covers, silently inviting the child to climb into bed and spend the rest of the night nestled between his parents. That way, if he was bothered by any more bad dreams, he wouldn’t need to go very far to reassure himself that nothing horrible had happened.

                      ❝  I know it can be scary, but it’ll take more than a nightmare to break through your dad’s defense. As long as I’ve got the strong and sturdy iron on my side, I’ll be alright!  ❞

As he speaks, he tries not to let himself be too visibly winded by Bastiodon finally managing to get on top of the bed and lay directly on Byron’s  stomach. He was even heavier than his steel typing would suggest.

she knows the look on his face. it’s the same look that every young trainer gives her when she gives them attention. it never fails to warm the cold, dead heart of an aging (well, if she could age) woman like herself, and it never fails to make her smile. when she speaks, her words are as warm as she feels.

      ❝that woman fusing fossils in galar--well, i never!❞ she huffs as the box in her hands jostles with the restlessness of new life. ❝just so we’re clear, this isn’t one of those inhumane fusions she’s contrived. but i did manage to steal a slab of fossilized bird. i brought it to the fossil restoration center on route 8. and, well, you can guess what happened next.❞

she sets the box down on the floor and opens it, revealing not a bird, but a tiny electric/flying velociraptor pokémon! it scurries over to roark, curiously inspecting his boots and trousers…and then the little rascal takes a hold of his pant leg in its jaws. cynthia laughs as the dinosaur tries to clamber up her new owner, digging tiny sharp claws into his outfit for grip. 

@fcssilized​

“W-wait.. do haunted houses even do that..? I.. I don’t do so well in enclosed spaces either..” At that sort of revelation suddenly he’s having second thoughts about this whole idea. And here he was trying to be brave for no reason. Or well.. maybe he wanted to show how much braver he’d gotten since he was little. But well.. he’s just not doing that so well right now. He had to remember, he’s been through a lot worse than a few jump scares and some guys in masks.