Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It was 10am on a pleasant, sunny Thursday and the bar was as empty as one might expect. A handful of regulars were grabbing a bite to eat and conversing with companions before the spike in attendance for lunch. The bar was moderately sized but still quite cozy, with a dozen or so glossy wooden booths primed and ready for dining and socializing. A corner was set aside for modern, table-less booths for casual hangouts, decorated with pastel rainbow pillows. Little flags were dangling from the ceiling, each one displaying artwork of various pokémon in similar soft tones.

The traditional bar was currently empty, save for a single Sylveon sitting on one of the stools. She was grooming herself, rubbing a paw down her long, rabbit-like ears, carefully avoiding her various earrings and piercings. A small disc of half-eaten berries rested in front of her.

She ceased her grooming and peered to her left where a shadow beneath the bar shimmered in the low lighting. A purple haze emitted from the floor and was followed shortly after by streams of vaporous smoke. A white-capped head revealed itself from the floorboards, crowned by a pinkish spiked collar. The very agitated blue eye of a Darkrai glowed from the depths.

The Sylveon scrunched up her nose in annoyance as the other pokémon rose up to “sit” alongside her at the bar. He blinked once before looking over at her, a similar grumpy expression on his face. “What’s your problem?”

She muttered a growl then turned around and leapt off the seat. The Darkrai rolled his eyes.

            “I should have known it was you,” came the voice of the bartender. A dark-skinned human approached the pokémon from behind the bar, expression neutral towards him. Her long locs were tied up messily at the top of her head. “I think the only time she gets pissed is when you’re around lately.”

            “I give her one bad dream and she’s got an attitude for months-on-end,” he said with a shrug. His voice was gruff and tired. “She’ll get over it. And if she doesn’t, I couldn’t give less of a shit. Stay mad.”

The bartender smirked. “You ever think some people don’t like nightmares?”

            “No.”

            “Do you ever have them yourself?”

            “My life is a nightmare.”

She sighed. “Fair enough. What do you want?”

The Darkrai rubbed his large, clawed hands against his face as he considered. He ruffled his white hair bangs, temporarily revealing both—very tired-looking—eyes. “Give me a Jangmobomb.”

            “Ah, it’s that kinda day. Sure thing.”

The bartender turned around to start prepping his drink. The pokémon’s voice must have lingered its way to the backroom as the employee door shot open moments later. Another woman popped into view and immediately looked over to the new customer. Her brown eyes lit up behind her square glasses and she made a happy little gesture with her hands. “DYO!”

The Darkrai said nothing, but he did lift his arm to accept the embrace that soon followed, almost as if this action was some sort of routine. The girl squeezed at the pokémon’s large upper torso, pressing her head against the blue scars across his chest. It was evident just how much larger he was compared to a human; she looked quite small and dainty next to him. “You’re here so early! What happened?”

            “My pain and suffering is what happened,” he groaned. “I’ve been to every home in this city looking for a succulent meal, and all I get is crumbs. I’m restless as hell.”

The woman let go and sat in the stool beside him. It became apparent then that the Darkrai was not actually sitting down anywhere, but rather floating in the empty space between two seats. His spindly legs were out and bent in an animalistic fashion, appearing as if they were bearing his weight. His cloth-like tail train was drooped and slowly wavering in a non-existent wind, much like the towers of smoke that drifted off his shoulders and hair.

            “You’re still having problems? No hits at all?” she asked. She set her hat down on the bar table so she could readjust her long brunette hair into her ponytail. “Have you been to Marigold City lately?”

            “It’s all dried up. I’m tellin’ ya, people don’t get nightmares like they used to.”

She giggled. “Back in your day, when you had to walk uphill both ways for a bad dream.”

He squinted at her. “What’re you trying to say?”

            “Old,” she poked him.

            “Aren’t you, like, 30-something now? That’s basically ancient for humans. You might as well start digging your grave.” He gingerly plucked at her hair with his claws. “The gray hairs are appearing on the daily now. You’ll look like me soon.”

            “Eww.”

            “Hey.”

The bartender brought the pokémon a glass of light-colored liquid and a smaller shot glass with a drink of a deeper tone. She spoke to him, amused. “It’s not very classy to make fun of a girl’s age. Don’t you know that?”

            “Yes,” he replied. “But you humans care too much about stupid things that don’t matter. It’s kind of pathetic.”

            “Says the guy coming in here to mope ‘cause he can’t eat food like a normal person.”

He gave an amused huff. “I know where you sleep at night.”

            “If you want nightmares about filing quarterly taxes, go right ahead,” she said with a wink before walking away to tend to another guest at the bar.

The Darkrai gestured at her. “That’s what I mean! Nightmares now are boring. Tasteless. At least back in ‘my’ days, humans had better things to fear. Fellow ‘mons aren’t any better.”

The other woman scratched her chin thoughtfully. “Yeah, I guess we’ve all become a lil desensitized over the years. I mostly have bad dreams about forgetting to do my homework or running late for class. I don’t think I had a genuinely scary dream since I was a kid.”

He picked up the small shot glass and dunked it half-hazardly into the other glass. “That seems to be the trend. I was eating good just a couple hundred years ago. The nightmares I could unearth! The things humans and ‘mons feared! Diseases! Wars! Floods! Predation! Where did the good times go?”

The woman laughed. “We still have all that now, though! I mean… climate change is still a thing. And uh… there’s still no cure for rabies, right?”

            “But no one is afraid of that stuff the same way,” he sighed. “Everyone just accepted the world is going to shit, they don’t fear it anymore. Not enough to wiggle into their subconscious anyway. I get the best nightmares from conspiracy theories and let me tell you, those taste foul!”

            “Ha, really?”

            “Imagine it with me,” he gestured a pointed finger towards his head. “Nightmares about brain microchips. Microchips from vaccines. They either taste unbearably sour or bitter as hell. Not even remotely appetizing. I almost want people to stop taking life-saving medicine, maybe then the days of pestilence can return, and I can stop starving.”

            “I never thought about nightmares having different flavors or… nutritional values. Do you have to count your calories, too?”

The Darkrai just sighed in exhausted annoyance. He picked up the glass and swirled the contents in his hand.

The girl eyed him with curiosity as she pressed the subject further. “Well, speaking of old people… don’t they have, like, war PTSD or something you could use to summon a bad dream?”

Dyo’s gaze fell off to the side. “I stopped giving nightmares to the elderly. The risk of heart attacks got too high.”

            “Ooh, Darkrai morality is a thing?” she joked.

            “Uh, yeah? Well. Some of us have it, at least. It’s not as if we chose to have such an inconvenient food source: we can thank Arceus for its shit sense of humor. If I had a choice, I’d rather live my life surviving off the greasiest of hamburgers. Instead, I gotta make do with dreams about car maintenance, teeth falling out and, I dunno, boring stuff like tripping off a cliff. Everyone just dreams so mundane these days is all I’m saying.”

The human watched the Darkrai unhinge his hidden jaws. The bottom split into three curved mandibles: dark purple ooze stretched between them and dripped off, evaporating into nothingness mid-air. A glimpse of a blue tongue slithered into the larger glass to hold the smaller in place as he threw it back into his maw. He did not even wince as he downed it in a few swift chugs. He set the glasses down onto the bar with a gentle CLNK. His green pupil looked over at the girl as she watched him lick the droplets off his mouth’s serrated edges. The tongue disappeared back inside, and the mouth sealed back shut, vanishing as if it had never existed in the first place: a hint of a smile peeked onto the corners before it did so.

            “Otherwise, I deal with people who want to fuck their nightmares.”

The girl did not notice her face flushing. “H-Huh?”

The ghostly pokémon leaned towards her, his raspy voice growing deeper. “Is that you, too? You dream about fucking things other than humans?”

            “Shut up, you’re a freak!” She raised her voice at him. She shoved his pink collar away and he moved back, as if her puny strength actually had some sort of significance. Still, she had a smile on her lips despite the moment of embarrassment. “You ever think your problem is that you’re just not scary anymore? You’re losing your edge, old man.”

He scratched at the scars on his hand. “Yeah. Maybe I should stow myself away in the woods again. Become some rural town’s folklore. That used to make for some great meals.”

A sad look crossed the girl’s face momentarily. “Yeah. But who would I get to annoy if you’re gone?”

            “Go find another Darkrai somewhere,” he said nonchalantly. “They’re around. They won’t be nearly as handsome as me, and they’ll definitely be ten times moodier, and quieter, and not remotely as fun as I am.”

            “And they’ll be 90% less leggy.”

He laughed. “You only like me for my legs.”

            “How did you know?” she giggled. She leaned against her palm as she changed the subject. “So, if human nightmares are so nasty and pokémon’s aren’t any better… what do they have bad dreams about, then?”

            “Eh. Losing battles, disappointing their trainers, getting their ass beat, that kinda bullshit. Some wild ‘mons fear getting captured.”

            “Hmm. Sounds like you.”

Dyo’s beak-like snout scrunched. “I’m not afraid of any of that…”

A devious look crossed the girl’s gaze, and she hopped up into a standing position. She pushed her glasses up with one hand and reached into her apron pocket with the other. “Oh yeah? You’re a big toughy, huh?”

In a flash she whipped out a traditional pokéball and increased its size to fit in her palm. The distinctive digital sound it emitted made the Darkrai visibly flinch. His plumes of smoke rapidly fluctuated as his visible eye widened. His gaze was filled with malice as he grabbed her hand in a tight grip. “DON’T DO THAT!”

            “OooOoo Dyo’s scared of baaalllls!”

            “Shut up, human!”

            “ShUt Up hOoMaN,” she mocked him. She took hold of his other hand and gestured playfully in the air with them. They were so much larger than hers that it was almost comical watching her handle them with no resistance. Even though he easily could have forced her to stop, he allowed the action, despite the annoyance in his face. She went on with her teasing. “I’m Dyo, I’m a big scary shadow man and I think I’m sooo cool and scary but I’m afraid I’ll be a big loser one day and get caught in a silly little ball!”

            “I just don’t want to be someone’s stupid pet!” he hissed. His blue eye flashed when emphasizing the final word.

            “I’m Dyo and I don’t wanna be loved and cherished!” she reached up and tried to tussle his hair, but he sat up straighter, preventing her from reaching.

            “You call me a freak while you’re a fucking weirdo,” he said with a hint of laughter in his tone. The pokémon finally pried his scarred hand from hers and placed it on top of her head, gripping his claws gently into her scalp. He eased in towards her, staring his blue eye into hers. “I could just put you to sleep right now, without a second thought, and you couldn’t do anything about it. I could keep you asleep for days. Weeks even. You won’t wake up until I make you. You know I can just do that right?”

            “OoOoh I’m Dyo and I have a hypnosis fetish!”

            “What the fuck.”

The bartender turned back to them from across the bar and chastised them. “Will you two stop acting like ten years olds? Save it for the playground.”

Dyo let the woman go and she quit her childish hassling. She shrunk her pokéball back to its smaller size and stowed it away. The Darkrai tried not to twitch at the sound it made.

A pause followed, and the human’s face shifted. She looked away from him when she finally spoke again. “If we’re being serious… I like you enough that I might would let you steal a nightmare or two from me. Ya know, if you got desperate enough.”

The pokémon ran his claw along the empty glass in front of him. “Consensual nightmare eating does have its own appeal. You wouldn’t be able to handle that, though.”

            “You’re just saying that cause you don’t want to eat my school nightmares. You’re so picky!” she said jokingly. “Beggars can’t be choosers. Ever heard of that?”

He simply shook his head and ceased the topic altogether. “Don’t you have a job to do besides pestering me?”

            “Keeping you in check so you don’t up and lose it is a part of my job. That’s orders straight from the boss herself.”

Dyo flicked his gaze over to the bartender then grumbled again. “You people suck. I’m leaving.”

            “Fiiiine. See you Saturday, then?” she asked him.

            “Yeah, yeah…”

The pokémon sighed and stood up on long stilt-like legs. With the additional appendages, his height easily doubled; the smoky wisps from his head and shoulders seeped into the vaulted ceiling of the building. He opened his hand and, from seemingly nothing at all, a black orb was summoned within his palm. He clasped his digits together and placed them on the bar top. When he re-opened his hand, a precise amount of pokédollars and coins were left behind.

He slowly turned and walked toward the door, his movements unnaturally smooth, as if he were floating on a cloud.

The girl placed her work cap back on her head. She then stood up herself and called after the pokémon in a sing-song voice. “Byyyye Dyyyoooo.”

Another black orb formed in the Darkrai’s hand and in its place appeared a pair of large sunglasses. He slipped them onto his face and ducked under the human-sized doorway to face the bright afternoon sunlight. Before he made his exit, he responded back to the woman in the same rhythmic tone.

            “Byyyyye Millyyyyy.”

Chapter Text

            “Three of them?”

            “Three of them!”

The Darkrai swirled the drink in his red plastic cup. “How the fuck do you hide three kids from someone?”

            “I dunno. Apparently, he passed them off as his little cousins,” said the maroon-haired woman as she downed another sip of her drink. “And he claimed that ‘proud parent of a fantastic trainer’ bumper stick on his car wasn’t his, that it came with the used car he bought or whatever.”

            “Nah, no way. That bitch had to have known,” Dyo complained in response.

The night was cool and pleasant as the gathering took place. It was not a party for any particular reason; in a town where nothing of extravagance ever went on, there really did not need to be an event occurring to throw a hangout. The smell of cinders from the nearby fire pit mixed with the distinct scent of alcohol. The twinkling from the golden string lights reflected off the many empty glass bottles of booze scattered about, illuminating the urban backyard in an almost magical way. A combination of pokémon trainers and their creature friends were dotted about, some enjoying and partaking in the party favors and others simply relaxing with the company.

The Darkrai was lounged on one of the backyard wicker couches, a long, skinny leg kicked up along the back. There was something so humanoid in the way he was positioned that one might easily mistake him for one if not for his size and the constant billowing of his upper body’s smoke.

The human continued with the onslaught of gossip. “Maybe she was, but for Arceus’ sake, one would hope their partner wouldn’t lie about something so big!”

            “Humans love to lie.”

            “Dude, you lie all the time!” said a black-haired girl, her expression very unimpressed.

            “Listen, this isn’t about me.”

            “Viii! Viii!” chirped the little red Nickit that sat beside its trainer.

            “He’s still a gym leader after all that? Nooo…” Dyo replied in a fake, shocked tone before scoffing at the notion altogether. “Man, you guys suck at making people accountable for anything.”

The first woman responded to him as she twiddled with the blue bead on her necklace. “Shit’s corrupt. There’s only so much you can do.”

            “Uh, you could just kill him?”

            “We have a lil something called prison we go to if we do that.”

            “Yeah, yeah…”

The back door to the house slid open and a familiar face stepped outside, followed by a taller woman with abnormally fair skin. Both had drinks in hand. The black-haired trainer with the Nicket waved them over. “Milly, get over here! Your husband is giving bad advice again.”

            “My husband?” Milly asked in confusion. The moment she noticed the shiny pokémon lying on the couch, a look of disgust was wrought upon her face. “Dyo? My husband? I think I’d rather die.”

Dyo winced. “Damn. That’s colder than I am.”

They made their way to the group, careful not to step on any tails or limbs from the smaller pokémon lounging around. The fair-skinned woman made a jabbing comment towards them, tone light-hearted but amused. “To be fair, you both act like an old married couple half the time.”

Milly gave everyone a dirty look as they giggled in unison at the statement. “No, we don’t! He’s gross. Besides, I’m pretty sure that’s still illegal in most regions.”

            “Ugh, all these legalities,” Dyo complained, wavering his cup-wielding hand in the air as he rolled his eyes. He outstretched his arms towards the woman. “Come to me, human wife.”

            “Human wife?” she asked. She complied and sat down beside him on the couch. “Does that mean there’s a pokémon wife somewhere?”

The Darkrai pulled her in closer to him with his large paw-like hand, easing her to lay up against his chest and the pillows that were squished up around him. He ultimately affixed her between his large forearms where she could not escape his grasp so easily. “That’s for me to know and all these gossiping girls to find out.”

The group broke up into their own little conversations, allowing the two friends the privacy of their own topics. Milly sunk into the pokémon’s grip quite willingly and took another sip of her pink-colored drink. Dyo watched her almost inquisitively. “You haven’t drank in while. What makes tonight so special?”

She shrugged. “I dunno. I just got a lot on my mind. We just finished our big midterm assignments and I’m nervous about it. If I flunk I’m gonna have to retake the class.”

            “You’re not gonna flunk,” he said assuredly. “Unless it’s math…?”

            “… Calculus.”

            “Fuck. Yeah, you might flunk.”

The woman elbowed him in the torso, and he let out a painful groan. He did not risk saying anything else. She continued after taking another drink. “I don’t like going to college parties. They’re too much when I’m stressed out… I get anxious. Parties like this one are much less… wild. I feel okay being here.”

            “You’re so weird,” he said. “Aren’t you supposed to get drunk off your ass every weekend when you’re in college no matter what? A rite of passage or something you humans do?”

            “Uh, no. Only students in their 20’s pull stuff like that off. We were built differently at that age. Don’t you remember when you were only a few centuries old?”

The Darkrai’s green pupil wandered off in thought. “Mm. Nah. I don’t remember that shit.”

She did not seem to believe him. “A powerful, mythical pokémon can’t remember his first few hundred years on this planet?”

            “I really don’t, no,” he said without stutter. “I don’t remember when I first came into this world, and I don’t remember the first… I dunno… third of it? It was boring as fuck. Not worth remembering.”

            “I think you’ve got the brainrot like the rest of us.”

            “Eh. Probably.”

She turned herself partially towards him. Her pink Lugia hoodie was bunched up around her shoulders, but she didn’t seem to care enough to fix it. The fingers of her free hand rested on the pokémon’s scarred wrist: she ran them along the indented grooves of his skin. Dyo watched her do so, a curious inclination in his gaze. He sensed her unease before she did. “So… about the other day… about the nightmare thing…”

            “Yeah?” he asked, a sense of genuine bewilderment in his voice.

            “Can you… like… die if you don’t eat enough dreams or whatever?”

The Darkrai peered at her with interest. She sounded awfully concerned; he could not remember the last time he had heard that tone from her. Gently, he squeezed her closer to him. “Uh. Yeah, I can. They’re my food. You die without food. But it’s not imminent. I guess our diet is kinda like… how an Arbok or a Seviper can survive off one big meal for a good while? Besides, it’s not as if I’m not eating at all. I’m just eating trash.”

            “Humans can die from eating trash food, though.”

Dyo sighed. “Look, I’m not gonna get Darkrai diabetes or heart disease or whatever. Don’t worry your pretty little head about it.”

            “Well, I do worry… you’re kinda dumb and I don’t trust you to take care of yourself.”

            “Fuck you. I’m fine. I’m, like, a god in some people’s eyes! You think a god can’t take care of itself?”

            “Didn’t you just say you don’t remember a third of your life?”

The pokémon considered this. “That’s different. Although, I’m sure the alcohol doesn’t help my case. I’m not sure Arceus intended us to drink this stuff…”

He parted the front of his maw to tank the last of his drink. The bitter flavor may not have been desirable or even beneficial in any sort of way, but it sure made him feel good: the curse of alcohol for everyone—pokémon and human alike—he supposed. He noticed the woman observing him again. This look was different; the concern was gone and in its place was something he could not quite put his finger on.

He licked a droplet off the tip of his beak. “Why do you always look at my mouth like that?”

Milly’s eyes widened and she flicked her gaze away. She tried to hide the reddening in her cheeks, but it was not very successful. “Sorry. It’s just so ugly, is all. It’s hard not to stare.”

            “Ugly?”

            “Graboid-lookin’ ass.”

Dyo held the empty plastic cup near his friend’s face and crushed it promptly between his claws. He took pleasure in the way the human girl flinched. “I think you wanna kiss my weird mouth. ‘Cause you’re a monster fucker just like everyone else.”

She responded with a gagging sound.

He let out a quiet, raspy laugh. “I’m your husband, apparently, and you gotta kiss your husband!”

            “I need a few more drinks in me before I even consider something like that!”

            “You’re in denial.”

            “You’re delusional from lack of proper diet.”

            “You… well. Yeah...”

Yet another young woman approached, this one with short wavy hair and glasses. She appeared excited as she bounced up to them, unphased at the chilly weather while in her tank top. The Chatot on her shoulder happily bobbed its head. “Dyo!! Can you show us how to shotgun a beer?”

Dyo groaned in response. “Sam, I know you know how to do that.”

            “Um. Yeah, but I’m not good at explaining it like you are!”

He huffed and pulled his human counterpart up towards his face, riding up her hoodie in the process. “I dunno, me and my wife are pretty cozy right now. In fact, she was just about to lay a big, wet, herpes-filled smooch right on—”

            “Eww!” she burst into a disgusted laugh and immediately fought to free herself from the pokémon’s grasp. He let her go and she stood up, quickly adjusting her clothing back. “I don’t know why I put up with him!”

The maroon-haired woman chuckled. “I have a couple guesses, but I’ll keep them to myself.”

The shadowy pokémon pulled his legs into place beneath his body’s flowing skirt. He seemed to prep himself mentally before he arose in the same floating manner he usually did. He was careful not to hit his head on the dangling porch lamps; the shimmering golden light made his purple skin shine a faint rainbow of colors. His gaze fell to the girl again.

Milly gave a little huff and crossed her arms; she looked away from him and out into the bustling yard. If Dyo had the ability to smirk, he probably would have.

            “Alright, let’s do it,” he said as he proceeded to make his way over to the fire pit. He snatched up a can of beer from the nearest ice chest. “Let’s party like humans love to do.”

~ * ~

            “Lil… lil too much…” Milly squeaked out the words.

The moonlight shone down brightly onto the group as they stumbled their way along the sidewalk; the reflection from the pristine concrete lit up their way almost better than the streetlamps above them.

Dyo no longer bothered using his legs to walk. They were dangled down, phasing through the ground as he floated level with the three humans. His hand was being held tightly by Milly as the fair-skinned tall woman kept her steady with an arm around her shoulders. On Dyo’s other side was a smaller girl with blue spiky hair. She was trying—and somewhat failing—to keep Dyo from veering off into the street. Unlike the others, she did not appear to be inebriated.  

            “You’re such a… a lightweight…” Dyo stuttered. He did not look at the humans, his gaze foggy and transfixed on something in the far distance. “What’dya have like?? Three??”

            “Three?!” Milly said with shock. “I thought I only had two! Vlorrie, I only had two r-right?”

The blue-haired girl shook her head. “You had four. I kept track!”

            “Oh man… I can’t even count. I really am gonna fail that midterm…”

Dyo squeezed her hand. “Nooo, no, no, no. Listen, listen…” he floated in close to her, placing his other hand on her shoulder and giving it a reassuring pat: a pat that was a little rougher than he anticipated. “Yooou’re gonna do so great. And if you don’t… who needs math? IIII never used math in my whoooole life!”

            “You’re a creature of the,” she had to pause to think of the word her brain was searching for, “…the night. The moon!” She pointed up at the sky. Dyo swung his head up to look at the waning crescent in the sky. He looked back at her, rather unimpressed. “You’re a moon creature! Moon creatures don’t need math!”

            “I’m not a… a Clefairy! Ya dumb bitch!”

Milly fell into a fit of giggles. Her tall female companion sighed and rolled her eyes. “I can’t with you guys. Milly, you better be glad you just live down the road. I don’t think I’d trust having you walk home with just Dyo.”

            “Whaaat?” the pokémon said offensively. “L-Linda, you are soooo wrong. I would take such good care of Milly! She’s my wife, you know! Someone said that to me today, so it must be true. If someone tried to hurt her, I would… I would… uh…”

The tall woman, Linda, gave him a look. “Yeah? What move would you use to protect her, Dyo?”

Vlorrie perked up curiously as she once again shoved the intoxicated Darkrai away from the roadway. “Ooooh! Do you know Ice Beam?”

            “Naaaah,” he said. “I would… Dark Pulse ‘em. Yeah. Fuck ‘em up real good.”

To everyone’s relief, their destination was right around the corner. A small townhouse-styled apartment complex came into view, and they made their way as quickly as a posse of—mostly—drunken adults possibly could to the middle unit. Instead of bothering to fish out the girl’s keys, Dyo phased his wobbly hand through the door and unlocked the deadbolt from the inside.

The apartment was small but not overly cramped. It was decorated all over with various pokémon-themed artwork, plushies, and other similar trinkets. A cat tree stood near a window in the living room where an older looking Glameow perked up her head. She did not mutter any noise, but did watch the guests with intrigue.

            “Okay, I’m gonna go put Milly to bed,” said Linda, her tone shifting to a motherly demanding tone. “Vlorrie, keep an eye on Dyo. Make sure he doesn’t get into anything he shouldn’t.”

            “Aye, Aye, captain,” said the girl.

As Milly was guided down a nearby hallway, the Darkrai slowly floated into the living room, his legs still phasing through the ground. “Can’t believe you… you guys don’t trust me…” He then promptly knocked his hand into a TV tray that stood next to the couch. The other girl, thankfully, caught it with her swift reflexes. Dyo turned and looked at her, confused.

            “Dyo, maybe you should sit down…?”

            “Mmm. Okaaaay.”

Instead of aiming for the couch that was directly beside him, he floated to the carpeted floor and stretched out on it, including his absurdly long legs. He dove his head into the fibers, his body partially engulfed in shadow as if he was not able to control which plane he wished to reside in.

Vlorrie sat on the couch, taking her duty of watching him very seriously. “I think you had too much.”

            “Nooooo…” he mumbled. “I could have… like… six more eeeassyyyy.”

She wafted at the smoke wisping off him. Typically, the vapors bared no scent of any kind, but now they clearly gave off a ripe smell of booze. “Can your body just turn into alcohol after a point? Man, I bet other Darkrai would be super embarrassed seeing you right now.”

            “Other Darkrai can suck my non-existent cock,” he said sharply. “They’re all… fuddy-duddies. No fun. I hate ‘em all. Fuck them emo kiiiids.”

            “Hmm. I think you’re becoming a mean drunk now.”

            “Nuuu uuuhhh.” 

Linda returned from stashing away her friend and gestured for the other human to follow suit. “Come on, now, let’s let her rest. I’ll call a cab. Dyo…?”

The Darkrai did not respond.

Vlorrie simply shook her head and replied for him. “I think he needs to stay here for a few hours. Or… maybe the whole night.”

The taller woman sighed. “Alright. She leaned over the couch and raised her voice towards him. “Dyo, I know you can hear me. If you fuck anything up in Milly’s apartment, I’m kicking your ass personally.”

            “Okaaaay,” he waved her off. “I’mmm just gonna… sleep it off a lil bit…”

Vlorrie grabbed a small trashcan from the bathroom and set it down in front of the pokémon: just in case. The two women headed out the door, leaving the drunken mythical creature behind to rot on the floor. After that, there was nothing but silence. The Glameow let out a big, hardy yawn and curled back up in her cat tree, joining the slumber as the others had.

~ * ~

The Urge. It pulled at him like puppet strings formed of wire, his will to break them simply not strong enough.

Cold blood rushed through his veins, lulling him into wakefulness. The world around him was spinning. He grappled at the trashcan and promptly vomited into it, tossing whatever liquid his body had not managed to absorb and evaporate.

            I’m no better than the humans, he grumbled to himself. Why do I do this shit to myself? I’m better than this. I’m better than them.

His mind wandered for a moment, digging up memories of the before-times. Quite quickly he lost interest, and his mind faded off again.

Until the Urge returned.

His eyes opened again. He was standing. That was not something he remembered doing… His icy gaze peered down at the Glameow slumbering peacefully in her bed.

The Urge.

            Hnng. Fuck, no, no, no, he groaned and took a step backward on his long stilt legs. The back spike of his collar bumped against the ceiling fan light, and he had to stop himself from making any noise. The feline-like pokémon stirred a little, but did not awaken.

The Urge. It pried at his mind in a way he knew all too familiar, and yet this time he felt weak to its demands. Slowly he floated backwards until he landed on the couch. He sat there, staring into the blank television in the living room. Everything was pitch black save for the glowing reflection of his blue and green eye on the empty screen. Everything kept spinning, and he felt a light-headedness that typically made him feel rather good. Tonight was different.

He did not remember passing out again. When he snapped back into reality, he was in another room. He stood in the shadows of the corner that fell into deeper darkness. Eye scanning around, he realized quickly he was in Milly’s room. He had never been in it before, but it was distinctively hers: a shelf in the corner held a wide array of Lugia toys and figurines, a computer desk was positioned up against the wall, and a huge display of comic books and manga were above that.

His blood surged in his body when his senses picked up on the woman’s breathing. He peered over to the bed to see the lump where his friend rested. The covers were gently moving up and down as she slept.

Sleeping. A nice deep sleep. REM sleep. The Urge pried into him again.

He was so, so hungry.

He blinked and suddenly he was beside her. A panic welled up in his chest. What am I doing?! Not now. Not to her.

Unknowingly, he let out a verbal groan as a pain shot into his head. He dug his claws into the flesh of his face, trying to wake himself up properly. To fight off the Urge.

            “Mmmm. Dyo?” Milly awoke. She did not have her glasses on, but she looked in his direction regardless. She was not afraid of his presence.

            “Uh. Y-Yeah,” he muttered. He kneeled to become level with her position on the bed. “I was just… checking on you before I left. Had to make sure you weren’t dead from alcohol poisoning or whatever.”

            “Noooo, don’t goooo,” she said, and she reached out a hand towards him. Reluctantly, he extended his hand in return. Her warm flesh touched his frigid skin, and he once again felt that pestering desire fighting him. The girl noticed none of his struggles and kept going, words continuing to slur into one another. “I haven’t been drunk in foreeever. I’m scared.”

            “Don’t be scared,” he said, voice coming out more agitated than he expected. It was not her that was causing it, but he worried momentarily she might think that. “You’ll just… get a nightmare of a headache when you wake up.”

She giggled. “Nightmare…”

The Urge. It spiked within him again and he once more had to fight it back. Ugh, I’m too hammered for this.

            “Dyyooo,” the girl whined. She rubbed at his hand again. “I meant it when I said what I said.”

            “Said what?” he could not help but laugh. “You say a lot of… of dumb shit.”

            “About… ya know. The dream stuff,” she muttered. She sat up a little bit, her position still noticeably wobbly. “If you’re hungry, you can take one of my nightmares…”

The Darkrai groaned. He rubbed his temples with his other hand. “You don’t know what you’re saying. You’re too drunk.”

            “I’m not,” she said again. She gripped his forearm tighter and nestled up to it. “I’ve been thinkin’ about it since even before we talked at the bar. I know they won’t be… like… tasty dreams or nothin’ but… still...”

She began to fall back to sleep. The primal longing inside the creature began to take over again. He could feel her pulse so vividly as she rested against his arm, her fingers once again caressing the indented scars on his hand. She was not aware of it, but sometimes it hurt when she did it. It had been hundreds of years since he first sported those wounds, yet at times it felt like they still needed to heal; he never wanted anyone to know that weakness.

Unconsciously, he began to ease in closer to her. His other hand reached up to caress her long—now a bit tangled—hair. It felt unreal, like he was watching himself in a state of paralysis, his body merely acting as it would instinctively and not by his own volition. His palms slowly opened; a deep, dark orb began to stir within it.

The Urge was winning.

He only caught himself and snapped his hand shut when the woman once again stirred back into consciousness. “Wha…whatcha doin’?”

            “Um.” Shit. Fuck. His eye scanned the bed. A pile of plush pokémon were poised at the hind of the bedframe. He reached over and picked one up, presenting it to her, but not before observing it skeptically. “Is this… a Darkrai…?”

Her eyes shot open, and she snatched the little plush away. “No!” She quickly stuffed it under her pillow and plopped her head down on it, concealing the evidence.

The pokémon snickered. “Should have known you’re obsessed with me. But hey… it’s better than Lugia.”

            “I like Lugia,” she said with a smile as she pulled the blanket up around her face.

            “Meet Cady a few more times and you’ll change your mind.”

            “She’s your friiiiend.”

            “She’s a cunt.”

Milly giggled and pressed herself further into her pillows. “I bet you say stuff like that about me behind my back, too.”

            “Nah,” he replied. “You don’t do anything worthy of gossiping about. You’re pretty boring.”

            “You’re meeean,” she reached out and grabbed his beak with force. He was too smashed to have the reflexes to avoid it. He let out a low growl but did not fight her off. The woman continued as she restrained him. “But you’re still not mean enough to eat my nightmares.”

            “Ugh, you’re really not gonna let up about that, are you?”

She shook her head. “Not until you eat at least one.”

            “This isn’t like feeding a kid vegetables, ya know.”

            “Then why are you making it sound like it?”

Her hand released his beak and slid up to gently scratch his bangs, her small fingers running through his soft white hair. It felt pleasant and he could not resist leaning into it: he would not be caught dead doing so in the waking hours. Uggh. I really am too drunk… 

            “I’m… hungry…” he finally admitted. “I’m really fucking hungry.”

The girl sighed with relief. When she spoke next, it was evident she felt a great sense of achievement. “Dooo iiit. Don’t be a coward.”

Dyo took her hand away and allowed her to get comfortable in bed. The pokémon sat there, considering his actions. This isn’t right, he thought. She doesn’t know what this means. Stupid idiot.

            He stood up a little more and leaned over the bed, straddling his arms on either side of the woman. There was no heavy light source in the room, but the weight of his shadow cast down upon her. She stiffened as a wisp of cool air fell over her.

            But she won’t stop bothering me until I do it, so I might as well, he told himself. There was a part of him that wished to admit he also wanted it, but he suppressed it. His head still felt light, his gaze still a bit blurred at times, but the deep, burning, stabbing sensation of hunger overwhelmed any other cognitive sense he had left.

He watched her, blue gaze absorbing every small inflection in her face. “You’re afraid of me.”

            “No,” her voice quivered. Dyo felt, maybe, she was being truthful. It was not fear that emanated off her, but he was too out of it to register what it really might have been.

He raised a hand to her face, leaving it inches from touching her flushed skin. His claws were curved in towards her, uncomfortably close. “I’m going to make you go to sleep. Okay?”

She nodded and let out a breath to force her body to relax. “Okay.”

            “And you’re… sure?” he asked one final time.

            “Yeah,” was all she said.

Despite his mind not being all there, his instinctive ability to harness his powers did not wane. Once he began, he knew he could not stop.

The Urge had won.

Chapter Text

Darkness engulfed everything. That’s how it always started. Pitch blackness and hollow silence.

Eventually, the scene would start to unfold, a world would form, a reality crafting itself bit by bit. Dyo never knew how it would begin: that was not something he liked manipulating. He preferred to patiently wait for the dream to start on its own accord, giving him a more natural prompt to work with. This time felt no different, aside from the fact he felt his patience waning much quicker than usual.

He had been hungry before, and this was certainly not a time when he was starving. He had gone months without a feast, weeks without a morsel. There had been times he had gone without for so long that the moment a victim came upon him he could not control the Urge in any sort of capacity. He could not recall a time he had ever killed anyone from his nightmares, but the times in which he was desperate were some of the most merciless. Despicable things had occurred in those dreams, things he might have felt shame in reciting if he had any choice in the matter. Sometimes, he just had to do what needed to be done to survive.

This time was unique. He was not desperate, but his body acted like it was. He had induced nightmares while intoxicated before. Why did it feel so odd this time?

Once the setting had fully manifested itself, the nightmare entity found himself standing in a kitchen. The sun was casting through the window, bathing the room in golden light. A young girl was sitting at a table, scribbling away at something in front of her. It took Dyo a moment to realize it was his friend, perhaps around the age of 13 or so.

He approached her. She did not register he existed, as was typical: he only made himself seen when he wanted to. He looked down at the table to see several booklets and half-finished homework assignments. A partially written essay was peeking out beneath a well-loved sketchbook that she was paying much more affirmative attention to. The look of concentration on her face as she filled the page with made up creatures and pokémon made the Darkrai chuckle with amusement. Typical Milly behavior.

He had been so engrossed in watching her that he forgot he was supposed to be causing her misery. Hmm. What should I do? I was just joking about her being boring earlier, but maybe I was right. Normally he was a rather quick thinker in these situations. He had a repertoire he always pulled from: things all humans tended to fear. It might have been his drunkenness, or his typical friendly behavior towards her in the waking hours that seeded his doubt, but he was struggling for the first time in a good while. His hunger prodded at him.

Reluctantly, he embraced his abilities and allowed the dream to morph. Rather than choose the next event, he plucked at the woman’s subconscious, digging deep for some sort of hidden trigger. Let’s find out what you’re really afraid of.

Another character entered the scene, a slightly older woman with similar features to the girl. She appeared annoyed as she held a baby Glameow by the scruff.

            “Milly, why is your pokémon outside of its ball?”

The girl stood up quickly, the chair making a grating screeching sound. “Sorry, mom! She must have gotten out!”

She took the cat-like creature from her mother and it let out a sad little cry. The older woman shook her head. “That’s why you need to put the pokéball in the lock box we gave you.”

            “I don’t like the box,” she said, petting her little friend. “It doesn’t seem fair trapping them in there like that.”

            Yeah, bitch, Dyo felt a grumble arise in his chest. For a moment he forgot he was in a dream. It felt abnormally real. Get it together, man.

The woman looked at her, almost offended. “Fair? Honey, they’re pokémon. They don’t have feelings like we do. They make the pokéballs so they can stay in them as long as you need them to. They shouldn’t need or want to come out as long as you train them right.”

Dyo felt a shift in the atmosphere. He knew he was causing it, but it felt beyond his control. He was mesmerized: his gaze locked onto the characters before him.

It was then the woman noticed what her daughter had been up to. She released an appalled huff. “What’re you doing? You’re supposed to be working on your entrance essay!”

            “I am, promise!” she replied hastily. She stroked the nervous kitten in her arms. “I just took a break, that’s all.”

The woman did not listen. “I don’t understand why you’re like this, Milly! No one else in the family has ever had these issues. Your father and I had a full team trained up by your age. Instead, you’re just wasting your time and all of ours!”

            “I’m sorry…” the girl whimpered.

The mother grabbed the sketchbook off the table and held it roughly in her hands. “Apologizing doesn’t make this right. Do you even know how much money we’ve spent trying to get you ahead? Only for you to waste it?” The young Milly gasped as her mother pulled a lighter seemingly out of thin air. She flicked it on, a small flame popping into life; the girl’s precious book was dangling precariously above it.

           “You’re such a disappointment.” With a simple gesture, the object was set aflame.

The girl watched helplessly as her beloved collection of artworks was destroyed right before her. She made a subtle movement as if she wanted to leap forward and grab it before it was gone forever, but she resisted. Even in the dream she knew it was a lost cause. Instead, she shoved her face into the Glameow’s fur to hide away from what she was seeing.

A rush of warm air engulfed the room. Dyo continued looking on, blue eyes transfixed on the unfolding actions. It all happened so quickly: in one moment, only the book was alit, in the next, the entire room shifted to an intense fiery orange. The child peered back up just around the time Dyo also registered the sight of the mother standing there, flames licking at her pant suit. She was still holding the book which had been reduced to a singed, black mass.

            “You’ll never learn. I don’t know why we even bother.” She was unphased completely as the fire treated her flesh much the same as the book she ignited. “Something’s just wrong with you.”

The Glameow forced her way out of the girl’s grasp. Milly tried to snatch her back, but all it resulted in was the feline reacting in a panic and scoring her across the face with her claws. Milly squealed and released the pokémon. She disappeared into the flames.

The girl took off after her friend into the next room. The Darkrai floated along after her, unable to pull himself from the situation. Nothing was going through his head as the nightmare continued. He was simply watching.

Absorbing.

Feeding.

The house made no sense. Perhaps it held some familiarity to the girl, but it was all warped and exaggerated. The walls were unnaturally stretched, and the wallpaper was leaking a dark substance as the fire melted it off the surface. The photographs that were nailed along the hallway bore distorted faces as the golden light flickered off the glass. Milly paid no attention to any of the fine details of the nightmare: she only cared about escaping.

Everything around her was burning. She passed by what must have been her room, only to see all the objects were melted together in heaps of various textures. Posters. Plushies. Figurines. Parts of them might have been distinguishable, but hardly. The mounds were writhing as if they were alive. Appendages that morphed into arms reached out from the piles to try to grab the girl.

She was frantic. Her breath was wild, her eyes wide, her body in a constant state of movement as she fled. It appeared as if she were looking for her little pokémon in an attempt to rescue it from the blaze, but the creature was nowhere to be found. Blood from the scratch on her face poured down beneath her glasses and stained her shirt with a graphic of a Ponyta across it. How ironic, Dyo thought.

Something from the burning, melting mass grappled at the girl’s ankle, causing her to trip and collapse to the smoking floors. She screamed as the wood burned at her tender skin. Suddenly, she was jolted backward, the creature pulling her deeper into the flames. Desperately, she fought it off, kicking it with her free foot. The action did nothing but aggravate the specimen more.

It dragged her further into the depths of the crumbling house. The Darkrai watched as she was drawn away, her screams merely another noise in the cacophony around him.

            “Dyo!”

His eyes widened. He blinked once.

            “Dyo!” the scream came from the girl. He could not tell what was blood and what was tears on her youthful face as she shrieked. “Help me! Please!!”

The entity stared her down. H-How…? Does she see…?

Just like that, the nightmare rapidly shifted. A great gust of wind blew past the Darkrai and whistled eerily through the warped hallway. The flames were extinguished one by one until all that remained was darkness.

Cold.

Familiar.

Darkness.

~*~

Both snapped back into reality, the cold chill of the night air shocking their skin. The woman gasped and shot up, hands gripping tightly to the blankets.

            “Ah, shit,” was the first thing Dyo said when he regathered his bearings. That was… not what he had been expecting. The Darkrai was still postured over the human girl: he felt her grab onto his arm, digging her nails into his cold flesh. It did not hurt, but it did assist in waking him up quickly. His head was groggy, vision still dizzy, but he was much more sober than he had been before he induced the slumber.

It did, however, take him a moment to register the quiet whimpering from his companion. His mind swiftly cleared, and he turned his full attention to her. Something clicked in his brain, sending him into a distant-familiar role, a mode he had not entered in years. His voice turned calm and gentle as he eased her. “Hey, it’s okay. It’s over now.”

He stroked her back with his free hand, trying to ease her tension. She said nothing, but she did release his arm, allowing him to better take hold of her. He pulled her shivering frame into his arms, nestling her up to his scarred chest. Although not as poised as normal due to being tipsy, he lifted her up and carefully floated himself on top of the bed. He placed his back up against the shelf headboard, careful not to knock off any of her knick-knacks. It did not matter to him at that moment how comfortable it was or wasn’t for him. He cradled the girl’s smaller form up against him as if she were the very child she appeared to be in the dream.

            “You’re okay,” he comforted again. He delicately stroked her hair with his claws, pulling the strands from her warm face. “It was just a dream.”

He felt a warm dampness against his fingers as he caressed her cheek. She was trying to hide her face in the sleeves of her hoodie, but he could clearly see the glossy sheen in her eyes and on her skin where tears were streaming down. She let out a quiet little gasp-cry. “D-Dyo…”

            “I’m sorry,” he softly apologized.

A thought occurred to him, and he reached behind them, phasing his hand under the pillow to retrieve a stuffed creature. “Here,” he said as he placed the little Darkrai from earlier in front of her. She took it and shoved her face in its plush texture to hide her tears. It could not mask her shaking shoulders, but it did muffle some of her cries.

            “It’s okay if you want to cry. Let it out,” he told her.

Milly never said anything else to him: not that he expected her to. The nightmare creature held her securely in his large arms and the tip of his beak rested lightly on her head. The pokémon simply sat there with her, comforting her with pets and coos. He kept his voice quiet, his raspy tone still there but the slurring of his words now long gone. “I’m here. You’re safe with me.”

Dyo did not think about the contents of the nightmare at the time, nor did he risk bringing it up. There was a time and place for that, and here was not it. He did, however, make an unsurprising realization as he held her close.

He wasn’t hungry anymore.

~*~  

His head was pounding. He wondered if slamming it against the kitchen counter would end his suffering, but he talked himself out of it. That wasn’t even a crazy party, he grumbled to himself. I could have at least been at the club getting wasted off my ass. He supposed drinking while on an empty “stomach” was not a great idea, even for a nightmare creature.

            “Glaaammmm?”

Dyo looked down at the Glameow at his feet. “What do you want?”

The pokémon responded by rubbing itself up against his stilt-like legs and mewing a second time. The Darkrai grumbled and pointed at her with the spatula he held in his grasp. “If you’re so hungry, why don’t you get it yourself?”

            “Glaaaammmm!”

            “It’s not my fault you don’t have hands.”

            “Mmmmmrrrrrr.”

            “Uuuggh fiiiiiine.”

He scooped out the egg he had been cooking and skillfully tossed it onto the plate he had prepared to the side. After turning everything off on the stove, he dug through the cabinets looking for the feline creature’s breakfast.

A shuffling from the kitchen entryway made the Darkrai shift his gaze around. Milly stood there, her clothing from the previous night peeking out from the robe she had lazily thrown onto herself. Her dark brown hair was in complete disarray as she rubbed at her very tired-looking eyes. She was not startled at the other’s presence, but did look at him with confusion.

            “Dyo… what’re you doing?”

The loud snap of a can of wet food emitted from between his claws. “Feeding Grandma.”

The Glameow eagerly weaved between his legs until he bent down to dump the mound of liquid mush into her food bowl, which she hungrily devoured the second he was done. Dyo’s beak scrunched up at the sight.

            “That’s Titi… Granny is my Tentacruel,” she said with a tired smile as she pulled up a chair to sit at her tiny kitchen table.

            “Why do you name your pokémon such stupid names?”

            “Like your name is any better!”

He huffed. “Uh, my name is cool, excuse you. And I picked it out myself!”

After cleaning up, the tall pokémon—so tall he had to hunch over just to keep his head from hitting the low ceiling of the apartment—brought the hungover woman the plate of food he had crafted for her. “Here.”

She focused her eyes on the meal: an almost flawlessly cooked fried egg on toast with a side of various fruits. “Whoah. You said you could cook, but I thought you were lying!”

            “Why does everyone think I lie?!”

            “’Cause you do.”

            “You just don’t understand my flavor of sarcasm.”

The woman tentatively poked at the food with the utensils he had laid out for her. “Well, why do you need to cook? You can’t eat this stuff.”

            “Can’t a man have a hobby?” he rolled his eyes. A softness fell over his face then, and he gingerly placed a large hand on the woman’s head. He began to gently brush his claws through her tangled hair. When he spoke again, his tone was quiet. “And… you know. It comes in handy for mornings like this.”

The girl’s cheeks flushed. She looked away from him, keeping her attention locked onto her food. “You don’t have to feel bad about last night… I told you that it was okay to do… you know. All that.”

            “That was kind of a disaster. I was hoping to hold back more than usual, but I think my hunger got the best of me. Though, I did tell you that I didn’t think you could handle it, I guess…”

She pondered his words. He said nothing. Ugh. I really fucked this one up. I should have just left after I put her back to sleep.

Finally, she spoke up again. “It… wasn’t that bad. I can’t remember a lot of it now… but I think I’m just more embarrassed you saw what you did.”

He replied with a low, rumbling Mmph. “I’ve seen worse dreams. Believe me.”

            “Not just the dream. I mean what happened after. It’s just…” she let out a sigh and set down her fork. She was searching for words. Dyo noticed her face was red again. She turned away from him and he worried she might start to cry. He listened carefully as she continued. “I was feeling so… vulnerable? That really got to me. I can’t believe you saw me like that. And then you… you just…”

            “Hey, it’s alright,” Dyo said. He bent down to her level and once more began to softly stroke her back for comfort. To his surprise, she stiffened at his touch, forcing him to pull back.

            “It’s not alright!” she said, voice exasperated. “You’re supposed to be an asshole! A lovable asshole, sure, but still! I didn’t know you could even be… be… whatever you were last night! And now? Where the hell is this even coming from? Are you faking it?”

The pokémon did not know what to say. A feeling of some sort was bubbling up inside of him, but he did not know quite how to decipher it. There were things he wanted to say: things he knew he shouldn’t. A flash of anger: no… frustration. His head was still pounding. He tried to keep his voice calm but could not mask the hint of annoyance lining his tone. “I’m not faking it. Or lying. Or being sarcastic, for that matter. Not about this.”

            “So, it was all genuine? Even now?”

            “Yes.”

She let out an even more frustrated “UUUGGH!” and shoved her face into the fluffy arms of her robe. A long and shaky sigh escaped her.

Dyo remained crouched where he was, hands desperately wishing to reach out and comfort the human further but reading the boundaries enough to know better. The right decision in that moment might have been to leave—clearly, he was not making the situation better—but the guilt and unease of abandoning her in this state kept him in place.

            “I’m sorry,” was all he could think to mutter.

            “Don’t,” she said, voice muffled. There was restraint in her next words. Though he could barely make them out, he could tell it took every ounce of power for her to release them. “I just… I… I think I liked it…”

There was silence then, long and awkward.

Dyo was not expecting that.

            “O-Oh,” he said, surprised. “Wait… which part?”

            “I… I dunno,” she replied. She still refused to look at him. “The way you just… took care of me? No one ever went to that level before. Not even my exes were that nice to me when I got upset.”

            “That’s cause I’m better than them,” he said smartly. “Shit. Most pokémon are probably better than them.”

Feeling as if the invitation was reopened, he reached up to pet the human in comfort once more. She did not reel from his touch that time, but she did shift a bit in her seat. She finally peered through her robe and wild strands of hair to look at him, albeit shyly. “Dyo, you know I like you… right?”

            “Well, no shit. I would hope so. I dunno why you hang out with me otherwise.”

            “That’s not what I mean, dumbass.”

            “What else do you mean, then? I know you want to fuck me, is that it?”

            “NO!!” She squealed. She crumpled up the napkin beside her plate and threw it at him. It bounced off his collar and passed through his smoky shoulder. Her face flushed a bright rosy red, and her eyes were full of emotions Dyo could not read. “I just like being with you. And when you did all that stuff last night it just made me want to be with you more! Something’s just… wrong with me, I guess.”

The Darkrai tilted his head slightly. Her words rang familiar to him. “You’re pretty weird, but there’s nothing wrong with that. What is it that you said the other day? Something about being loved and cherished or some bullshit?”

            “I was saying that about you. And how you don’t want any of that.”

            “Oh yeah,” he scratched at his beak in thought. “I guess I’m more of a giver than a receiver. Well, when it suits me, anyway. But there’s nothing wrong with wanting any of that. Especially with me.”

            “Why with you?” she raised a brow.

            “Cause I’m good at what I do. And because I’m hot.”

An unexpected laugh burst out of her lips, and she had to cover her mouth and turn away. “Arceus, you’re such a narcissist!”

He shook his head, white bangs swaying. “No, no. If that was true, I think last night would have ended differently.” He finally stood back up, his stilt-like legs shifting unnaturally in their shape. “Which, uh, thanks for… you know. Feeding me. I needed it a lot more than I thought I did.”

Milly finally picked back up her fork and attempted to continue eating. She hesitated at first, but did respond to him in a shy voice. “If you want to, we can… do it again. You know, next time you’re hungry or whatever.”

            Dyo chuckled. “You think you can wait that long?”

            “Sh-Shut up.”

The pokémon ran a claw along his beak thoughtfully. It certainly was not a good idea, that much he knew. Yet, he could not mask the fact that the girl handled his nightmare a lot better than most would have. A question arose and he figured it was a good enough time to ask it. “What do you remember about the dream I gave you?”

The girl shook her head. “I remember I was a kid and I was upset about something. And that everything was really… warm? But that’s about it.”

            “Hm. I used my Hypnosis on you after you went back to sleep. You humans are usually pretty good about burying away nightmares once you wake up, but I thought it might would help… glad to see I wasn’t still too drunk.”

            “Oh. I thought you could only make people sleep with Hypnosis.”

            “If you’re a basic bitch, yeah.” Teasingly, he then added. “If you’re not careful, you can wipe entire memories away, though. Glad I didn’t do that to you, huh? You might would have to relearn how to talk.”

Her eyes went wide, and she turned to him with a mouth full of food. “H-Huh?! Are you serious??”

If he had the ability, he certainly would have been smirking then. “I dunno. I’m such a chronic liar there’s no telling what I say is truth or fiction.”

            “Uggh! Why do I like you so much?”

If Dyo was being honest with himself, he did not have an answer for that question. Humans were notorious for being a touch absurd in his opinion, but Milly was much more subtle about it. Unassuming, perhaps a bit boring… but something beneath all that intrigued him.

It was a bad idea. A very bad idea. But maybe, just maybe, he would take her up on her offer.

It was only a matter of time before he grew hungry once more.