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Lizzy x Pokemon Sun & Moon Presents: Cinnie-Roary & Victory!

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It’s like a dream! Almost beyond belief!!



I HAVE TWO…..!! I never thought I'd...

I have… I’m a… I’m a……!

Okay, okay! Breathe…!! *sighs* I’m fine now!

I’ll have to set this whole story straight. It’s my first time after all, and I can’t wait to share this journey with you guys. If there’s anything wrong or inaccurate just let me know in the comments! Just yell at me and shame me for not knowing the gameplay! Layout!

Now that’s we’ve got everything out of the way, let my story begin….

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Hi guys. This is my first ever fanfic that will be fully Pokemon related, and I'm a bit nervous about how the story will go, but I have loads of ideas in my head.

Now, the thing is, I've only known all the "basics" of the franchise (kind of), I'm not really a hard core fan. Well, I probably will be.

As you read in the summary, the story will be about me, infiltrating  entering the Pokemon Universe, (to be specific, the Alola region) however, I have some prior knowledge of the Pokemon species thanks to bulbapedia, my 2019 New Year's Resolution and Smash Ultimate's last base newcomer introduced in the game   due to a bit of research. 

I'm still a little rusty on things like what sort of pokemon can learn this move, etc, what types they're immune to, what moves they can't learn, how Island trials/challenges work, what specific Z-crystals you can get from them, etc, friendship levels, how can a pokemon evolve blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah 


So, could do me a favour and leave some advice (maybe to do with my writing?) and some tips if you could? CRITISISM IS ALLOWED OF COURSE (as long as it's not too harsh). 


Thank you for your time and enjoy! 



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First things first, lemme introduce myself!

My name is Elizabeth Temiloluwa “Lizzy” Osho, and I’m 16 going on 17. My birthday is the 10th of December. But my two brothers usually call me “sis” or fatty, after I was weighed in Primary school for something-or-other Lizzy.

I am dark skinned and I have a very cheeky smile (so my relatives say!) and I have a distinctive little spot near my eye (It’s so annoying. When I’m older, I’m going to use my money I earn as a professional Illustrator to get some work done) When I give out big smile-e-e-e-e-es to others, my cheeks puff and bulge out like I’m some sort of blowfish. People say it’s adorable, but I look like I’m trying to break a Guinness World Record for Most Marshmallows inside of a Mouth. Or whatever. I’ve “pretty brown eyes” and I’ve got rather thick hair for someone my ethnicity. Mum says I’m ought to be extremely lucky. I guess I am.

And my face – UGH - let’s not go down that route. I look like a human Perdy or Perdita covered in mud or chocolate. IT’S PUBERTY!! ALL THOSE SPOTS, MOLES AND WHATNOT, DAMMIT!

I live in the UK. “Tally-ho! Pip-pip! Cheerio! Good day to you!” Etc, etc. South-East, to be exact.

But anyway, enough about me! I’m going to tell you how I left the grimy streets of London into a tropical Hawaiian-like paradise swarming with animals Pokémon. Most importantly, how I met the sweetest, most kindest Pokémon partners ever. Aww! It melts my heart just thinking about it!

I’ve been looking into Pokémon for quite a few months, and it’s literally better than Digimon and I’m intrigued, and I want to know more, OMG!

Just the idea and thought of ME, becoming a Pokemon trainer, seems…. IMPOSSIBLE UNBELIEVABLE!

But hey, I could dream, right?

When you’ve spent almost 17 years of your life as a crazy, cartoon-obsessed, Londoner, it’s not easy to own Pokemon, especially as they’re non-existent here.

Anyway, there are a number of Pokemon species I’m interested in… there’s Vulpix, Pikachu (duh!) Eevee, Scorbunny, Mimikyu…. I could go on!

However, there two specific ones that’s I’ve fallen for and I’ve got my eye on…



Ahem. They are my two very favourite Pocket Monsters that I constantly dream of owning and training! Just think. I’d be the very best Pokemon trainer to them, and maybe I’d just occasionally spoil them.

Okay, maybe I won’t be the very best. But Iike I said before, I am interested in Pokemon training.

Wait, sudden thought. If I want to get an Incineroar I’d have to ask BEG Professor Kukui for a Litten for my “starter”, and it’ll take FOREVER to evolve the Litten. I don’t care if everyone hated Litten’s final evolution at the start of Generation VII. SOME PEOPLE ARE SOOO PETTY AND CRUEL!! Also, the chance of me finding a rare, Mythical Pokemon like Victini in Alola is about the same chance of me going on a family holiday to Walt Disney World. Also, I think it’s from Unova.

But still, I mean, how hard could it be?!

Welp, I learnt that the hard way.

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It was just like any other day.

It was a cold, grey winter afternoon in the boring South-East London neighbourhood of 86 Benares Road, in Plumstead. At the time it was Mid-November, coming to December. Christmas time. When I’d be stuffing my face with turkey, mince pies, and stocking fillers while I’d be chatting on my brand new phone. If I ever got it. I’ve been waiting for a new phone for myself for five decades years.


My parents had always promised me new phone for when “I reach college”. WELL, I’M IN COLLEGE NOW, SO WHAT DO THEY WANT ME TO DO??? Get straight A’s and you’ll cough up the money? Pathetic. My parents are such IDIOTS sometimes!!! I’ve been asking for one like, FOREVER!

I guess my little brick phone faux phone and my iPod would have to do until then.

Maybe there was hope. My birthday comes before Christmas. Little did I know, I would be getting something even MORE precious than a new phone, and I wouldn’t be celebrating my 17th here…

Oh Lordy, I’ve gone off topic. And no spoilers!

I’d just had a big row with my parents over this matter, but they’re not budging, they’re lying straight to my face, say that “funds were a bit short right now” and they can’t be bothered on a phone at the moment (I bet they were waiting for my first report to come out. That’s what they always do).

That is bull****. 

Excuse my language.

I was upstairs in the attic (my bedroom is in the roof) tucked away in my bedroom on my laptop my only source of comfort now that I don’t have a phone. I was furiously surfing Bulbapedia (Pokémon Wikipedia) to find out everything I could know about Pokémon generally, and the requirements to become a Pokémon Trainer, even though it’s impossible to become one in my world. Who knows?  Earlier, I told my older brother that I wanted to become a responsible Pokémon trainer, but he just laughed and replied,

“Yeah, and I’m secretly Arceus who created the Pokémon universe.”

Like, he really thinks I’m that stupid! It’s possible! I could become one! Though I had no experience whatsoever, I knew I could do it. Well, sort of.


I had memorised Victini and Incineroar’s National Pokedex numbers. I’d watched the 14th Pokémon Movie, I’d watched the Detective Pikachu trailer. I’d watched gameplays. I’d watched anime reruns. I’d looked up Pokémon moves, and stats. A good start, right?!


I stopped surfing the webpages and sighed. I was getting nowhere, at this rate. I cracked my knuckles and stretched out my arms in my bear onesie, as I’d spent about almost a couple of hours on the web, and my fingers were about to fall off. I actually stared at blue light on my laptop screen for soo long my butt was actually numb….

“Ugh, why is this so hard?” I covered my face and groaned.

I guess they were all right. I just needed to realise the differences between dreams and reality. But ever since I’d watched the November 1st Smash Direct and Pushing the fiery Envelope! I’d become blinded at the thought of raising and training Pokémon.

Now, it seemed like just a silly daydream.

Just then, my older brother, Emmanuel, (who teased me about my goal) suddenly burst into my room liked he owned the place. I’m not allowed to do that when I enter his dumpster of a bedroom. Once, I did that and he threw his slipper at me and called me by my other “nickname”.

He’s an “aspiring” rapper, though he’s in nearly in his final year of university, studying pharmacology-or-something-or-other yadadaydyadyalalblahblahblah medicine/drugs or whatever. I guess him becoming like that rapper who’s got that neo -noir album named after a literary technique (his stage name’s school related too!) and the album art being totally cursed, looking like some psycho homeless ski-masked clown will get him (my brother) raking in the money in no time. All he needs now is auto tune, not to end up like that crazed, rainbow-haired freak with that trashy album (basically a cartoon version of him urinating a bloody rainbow. Really creative!) Who may rot for 47 years in prison if he’s not careful! He has a little 6-year-old too. Pity.

No that’s not fair. My brother’s not really that bad. He can be great fun, actually. Manny can be so warm and friendly, but he can be rather distant at times. He locks himself up in his tiny blue room right near mine, giggling and cackling to himself while playing music out loud on his Bluetooth speaker. Sometimes I even hear him up near midnight. I wonder if he has a gf.

But I digress.

Emmanuel (I nickname him Manny) was on his phone, probably listening to that rapper I described with his ear-wax filled blue sony earphones, looking like a right goof, in his glasses and his hoodie.

“What’s up, sis?” he snorted (when he sniffs, he does this really gross sounding pig snorting noise, like he’s got a “dead bee” stuck inside it, like that pig from Barnyard. He’s even worse when he’s got a cold).

“Um, nothing,” I replied, throwing on my bear onesie hood to cover my face and swiftly closed my laptop.

But Manny was no fool. He narrowed his eyes at me, and took off his earphones, seeing if he could try and catch me out.

“Oh, I know, don’t tell me you’re busy looking up pictures of your “FICTIONAL HUSBAND?” He mocked in this pathetic high-pitched imitation of my voice.

At this, I practically threw my laptop (actually, I didn’t, It’d come off my life savings) off my old bed, uncovered myself, and stood up straight like an Alolan Exeggutor, but I was raging like a short-tempered Marowak.

See, I have done a bit of work!


*Okay, back when I learned what Incineroar was capable of, I did go Furry Mode at some point and started liking obsessing over him for a few months. Yes, and maybe I did call him my “fictional husband”, though I know very well that Pokémon and humans can’t intermingle like that. Plus, I don’t even know if male Incineroar even have furry sausages. Ha! Anyway, I’m not that obsessed any more. Well, maybe I could be. I wish I had a pound for every time my brothers have yelled “FURRY!” at me in my face.

I could not believe that Emmanuel would accuse me of doing such a thing!

“Whatever!! I’ve TOLD YOU THIS ALREADY, MATE. I’m not obsessing over him anymore. I still do like him-”

“HA! So you do!”


“Liar Liar, pants of fire! Kick it up and be a looooser!” he sung extremely awfully. It didn’t even make me sleep like how a Jigglypuff would.

GET OUT! GO! NOWWWW! YOU DON’T KNOW ANYTHING ABOUT POKEMON, AND I DOOO!” I hollered, proceeding to throw my slipper at him, but I failed, as he’d already retreated like the chicken he was.

There was a brief moment of silence, but a few minutes later I could hear him muttering to himself outside my door. I rolled my eyes at this, as this crap was coming from a 21-year-old.

“Only crazy people talk to themselves,” I grumbled. Then I blushed at that, embarrassed. That meant I was cray-cray also.

I know, I went SICKO MODE on him. I was quite harsh. But I was just so annoyed! He obviously didn’t know that I was taking this whole Pokémon training thing seriously. He just thinks I’ll turn into a permanent furry or commit bestiality or something. I’m not dumb!! I guess, in some situations, I FEEL like I don’t know anything.

I feel that’s what everyone thinks of me. My mum’s always saying that I’m a smart child, it’s just I don’t APPLY myself. Which I am very sorry to admit that’s kinda true.

Like, once on my Secondary school report, I got better predicted grades! A 3 (equivalent to a D, I believe) to a 4 (low C). Not bad! Even if I did say so myself. Well, in fact I DID say it myself. Mum looked at the report and let out a snicker, but not like she was amused. I complained to her, that there may have been something up with my brain, while I was doing all those Mocks, and exams, which made me flop. Mum just said (in her annoyed African accent),

“Stop talking nonsense! There is absolutely nothing wrong with your brain. Application is what is lacking.”

What on earth was she talking about?? 3 to 4 WAS AN IMPROVEMENT!!

It scares me sometimes (me with my low IQ, I mean). This could really affect my performance as a trainer in the Alola region. How will I know how to teach new moves to my party? What if they get sick? How will I remember what types they’re weak to, Immune to, or are normally damaged by?

You know what?  There’s only one answer to that.

BULBAPEDIAAAAAAA. Not available in the Pokemon Universe.

You thought I was gonna say I’d have to ask BEG Professor Kukui or Ketchup for help, but no. I’m an independent woman. Of course, I may change my mind later on.

I was just think about this to myself just now, when my bratty 15-year-old (I’m not kidding) brother, Enoch came on the stairs to the loft, and started reciting lines and memes from YouTuber TerminalMontage’s videos, Something About: Kirby Super Star.  I wish I hadn’t begged him to watch it, because I saw it first and I thought it was bloody hilarious. But now he keeps quoting the ****** video like some sort of parrot.


“Mama mia, Papa Pia, baby got the “diarrrrrrrrrhoeaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!”

Kirby, you gotta do SOMETHINNNNGGG!”

“While you’re sucking up everything like a fat boy in a Golden Corral, I gathered up all the Star Power in the Universe, and became, GOOOOD!!!”


*Ear rape noise. Jeremey doesn’t put in “Loud Sound Warning” on his videos for nothing.

And so on. It’s driving me up the wall. Though, I must admit I was copying him when he first started, but I’ve pretty much matured like a normal human being (otherwise known as evolution).

But him? *scoffs* he’s pretty much half baked.

My brother, in fact has the most awful personal hygiene I’ve ever seen in a sibling. His teeth are always yellow, his breath stinks so bad it could potentially peel off wallpaper, and he’s got this awful habit of gathering up saliva in his mouth, he does it without even him noticing (I think), like a baby, so when he talks, he’s often like’s sprung a leak. When I talk to him, once in a while I’ll have to yell, “SWALLOW!” So he can swallow all the saliva. I think that may be the reason behind his toxic breath. No matter how much Colgate, Aquafresh, Listerine, or McCleans he slaps on his teeth, they’re still the exact same. Mum says he doesn’t brush them properly, which may be true, he’s as slow as a Slowpoke, but I think he’s just immune to toothpaste.

You know what angers me the most about him?? His favourite Pokémon happens to be my least favourite Pokémon (aside from Meowth and Wobbuffet). Here’s some clues.


  1. Ketchup’s favourite Pokemon he has an extremely strong bond with in X & Y.
  2. The only Generation VI Pokemon introduced in Smash 4.
  3. It’s a Water/Dark type.
  4. Its name means “frog” in French.

Yep, you said it! Greninja.  Sorry, Greninja fans.

Well, at least they both have something in common: they’re both sometimes equally unattractive.

Enoch can be great fun sometimes, like Emmanuel (oh, forgot to mention, my older brother likes Squirtle and Blastoise) but quite often, I do fear that Enoch is losing his mind. JK!

So, while I was carrying on with my obsessive research Pokedex data gathering, Enoch appeared at the staircase and tried to draw attention to me with those stupid quotes, expecting me to join in. I tell you, the more I hear him, the less funny it gets. Like, when will he ever learn? AND he is 15 years old!

“Shut your face, blabbermouth,” I snapped, hoping he would get the message.

“Who are you calling a blabbermouth, fatty?” he’d scoffed.

He was like an annoying talking Meowth.

You see what I have to deal with in this household?! Honestly! I was ready to duff this little ***** up real good, but I couldn’t, because Dad would find out, and he may duff me up real good also, even though he can’t. Well, not anymore anyway. My Dad supposedly thinks he’s a force to be reckoned with.

Mr Incredible: Hold my beer.

I flew open my bed room door and stomped out of my bedroom in a rage, to yell at him. Even though he was VERY TALL for his age, I was still no match for him.

I think.

“Oh, wow, are you looking at pictures of your ‘fictional husband’?” he teased, and he stuck his tongue out at me. So childish.

Why don’t you jump out of your bedroom window?!” I shot back, successfully throwing my other slipper at him.

“You can jump up high out of your bedroom room, like some ninja frog. Like Greninja, or whatever that ugly thing is. HE IS THE LEAST MOST EXCITING TO LOOK AT!! Why would you name your Froakie/Frogadier/Greninja GREGORY??  F****** GREGORY!! It’s obvious you’ve been reading too much Diary of a Wimpy Kid!! That’s like me naming my Incineroar, NIKKI!” 

“What do you hate about that Pokemon? And did you REALLY have to swear? Anyway, everybody knows that Incineroar is very unpopular because everyone hated his design when it was first shown. You’re not ever getting an Incineroar, you’ve become very Pokémon- obsessed since he revealed to be the 69th fighter in Smash Ultimate, you FURRY!” He snorted, and threw my slipper back in my face, but I ignored the action.

SHUT. THE F*** UP!!!” I roared like a Gyarados.


I heard a booming voice.

Enoch was like, “help, hide me!” and rushed back to his bedroom (underneath mine) shutting the door.

I held my breath and I did the same, shoving my laptop under the bed, digging out my school textbooks and pencil case from under my desk (yeah, I should be studying) slamming them on the desk as I heard heavy footsteps coming from the stairs. I tell you, when my parents are pissed, they’re even worse than a tsunami, a volcano eruption, a powerful earthquake, and a category 5 hurricane combined. TIMES TWO!

My obsession for discovering and ranting about Pokémon had gotten me into trouble, so I guess my brothers just COULD be right (wait, when is Enoch ever right about anything?).

After I got into position, just as I’d expected, my dear little mother, had flown open the door, and glared at me with her pretty brown eyes, through her huge glasses.

I wear glasses, just like everyone else in my family, though I’d only just started wearing them a few years back. At first, I was the only person who didn’t wear glasses, then my eyesight deteriorated, and I had an appointment at Specsavers, and here I am, looking like Four-Eyes. My brothers never let me hear the end of it for a while, but then they stopped when they got used to it. I should’ve just suffered in silence and not opened my big mouth.

“What were you shouting about upstairs?! Was that your brother?” Mum demanded.

I stayed quiet and shrugged. It’s not a good idea to stay quiet when my parents interrogate me, as it’s intimidating and it makes them even angrier.

“ANSWER ME!” she howled.

I jumped at that. I used to freeze up and whimper in the past, but I’ve gotten used to them now, it’s only so pathetic, looking back on how I used to be, and how my parents behave towards me today. I’m not scared of them. They can threaten me by slapping me so hard that “I’ll see Arceus God” or they’ll “send me to Nigeria” (my nationality) or they’ll say that “is it a crime to have a daughter like you?”*


I was eventually able to muster up some words…

“W-we were discussing about Pokemon.”

Mum’s face distorted into a disgusted expression and scoffed.

“It doesn’t sound like you were discussing,” she’d snapped. “You were fighting again. POKEMON?! EEEH?? How will Pokemon add value to your life? You should be focus on your studies, then you can watch and talk about your Pokemon after your exams! What were you discussing about? Pikach? Piku? Erm… what it is called…?

“PIKACHU!” I roared at her.

Oops. I forgot to use my “parent talking” voice.

Mum opened her mouth and gasped. I was actually a little surprised I did that too, cos I don’t normally go for that. But was on this strop on the account of having to act like a coward in from of Mum all the time; I thought she would understand.

“How dare you speak to me like that!? Am I your mate? What is wrong with you, you stupid child? Pokémon is not your priority at this time! After exams and during Christmas, you can talk about it all you want! Why are you deceiving yourself?! I feel sorry for your life.”

I rolled my eyes and huffed. My anger was boiling up inside, like a furnace, and I tried VERY HARD to keep it in. I can’t stand it when my parents talk **** about me. It’s like I’ve grown up to be a nightmarish brat instead of well behaved, smart daughter. They often compare me to their friends’ kids, which make me want to stand out even more. I can’t act like a sweet little well-behaved robot all the time!

“I’m not even a fan of them! Do you know what “Pokémon” means??” I face palmed inside my head. “Pocket Monster.” I responded calmly.

“EXACTLY! I don’t want any of this monsters in my house,-oh! It is demonic and the bible says that monsters are the spawn of the devil!”

Okay, so I know that during the early days of Pokemon, there was loads of controversy with Pokemon evolution going against the Genesis account and animal cruelty or whatever, but that was like, 1999. THIS IS 2018!! Doesn’t she think we haven’t progressed??

I zoned out, thinking about this to myself while Mum rambled at me, as well as other things, such as how I would become a Trainer, while having to balance my real life, the fun things my Pokémon and me would do together, me possibly obtaining a Z-RING and learning about the wonders of Mega Evolution, maybe even running away from my pathetic life here and living in Alola for good….

“.....focus ONLY on your studies!!” Do you hear me??” Mum had finally finished.

I didn’t respond as I was totally ignoring her, having my little daydream.

I SAID, DO YOU HEAR ME?” she yelled, raising her voice, did that stupid action where she puts her finger near her ear so she can hear me respond like I’m utterly stupid or something.

“Hm? Yeah, Mum.”

“Did you even hear what I just talked to you about?!”

I nodded.

“What did I say?” she asked, folding her arms.

I shrugged, through gritted teeth. And that’s when I exploded.

“Mum!! Look, I don’t want to hear it. You see, I’m RATHER sick and tired. OF YOU! OF EVERYONE! Why are you and Dad SUCH CONTROL FREAKS?! You lie and say that you’ll get me a phone soon but you always don’t! You don’t let me go to parties whenever I get invited! Mum, I know I have to work hard and stuff, but to be honest, I’m bored. I want to live life. I want to have adventures. I WANNA LIVE! I can’t be stuck with you 4 creatures for the rest of my life! In fact, I’m planning to become a Pokemon Trainer and Illustrator, so I won’t have to go to school. I have it all in hand. AND NOBODY CAN STOP ME!”

My room got so quiet for a few seconds, that you could only hear the heavy pitter-pattering of the rain that had begun outside on my big window.

Mum had her mouth wide open, and blinked as if the Holy Spirit had come down upon her or something. Then she did the unspeakable. All without saying a word, she shot a look under my bed, and shoved me out of the way, grabbing my laptop. At this, I fought back and tried to snatch it away from her.

“NO! Please give it back!! I need it for my POKEMON RESEARCH! Er – I mean I’m doing my Homework on that thing!” I gabbled. But I was too late.

She gave me this really venomous look and shut my door, hearing her pounding footsteps go down the stairs into her bedroom. I’m pretty sure she was going to grab her phone and ring dad and gabble to him about what I’d done.

And dad was probably going to do something ludicrous and irrational like ban me from TV for the rest of my life.

I didn’t care! I’m sick to death of ALL of them and their rules and regulations! Like they run the world.

I haven’t been doing that well in College (well, in my opinion) recently, also. Like, ever since I started a couple months ago, it’s been nothing but STUDY STUDY STUDY and it’s driving me up the wall.

And with no laptop, and my brothers treating me like trash, things were going to get even worse.

I slumped onto my bed in frustration, and sobbed quietly into my pillow, clutching my favourite teddy, Rainbow Bear, whom I’ve had since I’ve popped out of my mother’s hole and I still love her, though her colours had faded a bit. 

Laying on my bed in the darkness, I sobbed and hiccupped quietly, pondering about my hopeless situation, thinking I was going to be miserable till hell freezes over.  

“I hate her. I hate them all.” I muttered.

I don’t think I did really, but it was the only thing I could say to make myself feel a little better about things.

I decided to daydream about my life as a Pokemon trainer in the Alola region, and that seemed to do the trick. All of a sudden, it didn’t feel like I was lying on my bed anymore. I could tell, because the sheets didn’t feel like sand. I imagined I was lying on an Alolan beach, relishing the warm summer sun, as opposed to the ****** weather we get here in London. As I laid in the sun, the sand stuck to the back of my body like glue and got into my hair, but I didn’t mind. I could hear the tide going in and out (it sounded so relaxing) but didn’t reach far enough to touch me. I just laid there, in the daylight, forgetting all my worries, letting out a sigh of relief.

A moment later, I felt something wet and rough lick my cheek repeatedly. I ignored it at first, then I let out a giggle when it wouldn’t stop.

“Ha ha! Stop it!”

My eyes flicked open, and I sat up, and the last thing I expected to see was an Incineroar’s FACE, grinning at me. At this, I got up to my feet and threw my arms around the adorable thing, (being careful of the belt of fire) my face buried in its chest. It returned the hug, purring pleasantly. When I pulled away, I immediately felt a tap on my shoulder, and before I turned around, I thought I felt a zap of electricity go through me, and I jumped at the touch. OMG that could only mean one thing…

The Incineroar pointed behind me and I spun around to see Victini’s adorable face, its smile glowing with pride and power. It spun around me happily, and I laughed as I felt it’s’ power flow through me like a wave.

Strangely, I actually pulled out a macaron from my onesie pocket, and gave it to the hungry Victini, which it snarfed down in a matter of seconds (I don’t know where the hell I got the sweet treat from, it just suddenly appeared in my pocket out of nowhere).

Without thinking twice, I grabbed both Victini and Incineroar’s hands and we skipped down the sandy beach like little kids in the sunshine, not minding if the hot sand burnt my feet.

Oh, it was a wonderful dream! I wish I could’ve shared it with my brothers, but they’d just probably think that I banged my head really hard on something. They’re both malasadas doughnuts, anyway.

Yeah, so that’s one of the reasons why I’m in this situation right now. The bad news is, I’m probably never going to get any pocket money for a zillion years. The good news is, well…..