Endings & Beginnings is an Honorshipping fanfic, which means it is about Morty and Falkner of Johto in a romantic relationship. This story is set around the time of GSCHGSS.
Also, as a small note which barely influences the story, I think of "Tohjoh" as the Johto and Kanto continent, and long ago the Tohjohans, who are a lot like the Japanese, ruled Tohjoh, but adopted a new language and culture from the people of Hoenn when they crossed paths.
The stars in the TOC show how satisfied I was with that particular chapter, averaged out with the apparent readers' consensus. Here's a key for the ratings.
Ratings Key
★★★★★ 100% "Impeccable"
★★★★★ 90-99% "Excellent"
★★★★☆ 80-89% "Acceptable"
★★★☆☆ 70-79% "Substandard"
★★☆☆☆ 60-69% "Miserable"
★☆☆☆☆ 50-59% "Horrible"
☆☆☆☆☆ 0-49% "Failure"
★☆★☆★ "Rating Pending"
TABLE OF CONTENTS
Chapter One [scroll down]
★★★★★ 95% "Excellent"
Chapter Two
★★★★★ 100% "Impeccable"
Chapter Three
★★★☆☆ 75% "Substandard"
Chapter Four [same post as Chapter Three, scroll down]
★★★★☆ 85% "Acceptable"
Chapter Five
★★★★★ 95% "Excellent"
Chapter Six, Part One [Some parts NC-17]
★★★★★ 100% "Impeccable"
Chapter Six, Part Two [Some parts NC-17]
★★★★★ 95% "Excellent"
Chapter Seven
★★★★☆ 85% "Acceptable"
Chapter Eight
★★★★★ 90% "Excellent"
Chapter Nine
★☆★☆★ "Rating Pending"
Current Total Story Rating
★★★★★ 91.(1)% "Excellent"
Here's Chapter One:
Autumn had descended on the continent of Tohjoh. From the sky came cold breezes which flowed through the cities and towns of the Kanto and Johto regions, tugging orange, dead leaves from the now sleeping trees, whom were preparing for the cold of winter. The streets of Ecruteak City were filled with these leaves, as autumn had finally descended down from Bellchime Mountain were it continued year-round. A lone blonde man, no older than twenty, ambled through the cobblestone lanes, and fixed his eyes on a falling leaf in front of him, severed from its parent tree.
Falling
Dropping
Descending
Quicker and quicker and
HACHOO!
C
R
U
N
C
H
!
The leaf fell underfoot of the blonde man, who stumbled forward as he sneezed. He looked down at the mess of crushed bits that had once been a leaf, almost sad. But he knew that all life had to end, and so had this leaf’s. After all, he lead a gauntlet of ghost wielding trainers, and besting his own ghosts meant the right to the fourth badge of the Johto league. Unfortunately, the air was unseasonably cold this autumn and had surprised the gym leader’s body, afflicting him with a light cold.
Oh well, he thought, moving on. He had places to be. The man pulled his purple scarf a bit tighter around his neck, and kept walking until he reached a large stone building. His violet eyes scanned a bronze plaque nailed into the grey stone next to the revolving doors.
Indigo League: Johto Division Headquarters
The beginnings of an adventure await!
Same old, same old, the man thought, having read the plaque nearly ten thousand times. He strolled up to the revolving door and pushed into the handle, and walked circularly into the building. Finally, some warmth! he thought, loosening his scarf and coughing lightly into his elbow. He walked over to the building’s reception desk.
“Hi, I’m here for the league wrap party,” he said, the secretary’s back turned. She held up one finger and then pointed to the telephone held between the side of her head and her shoulder.
“Thanks again! Okay, see you in spring!” She placed the phone into the reciever and spun about face on her purple office chair. “Hello, sir. I’ll need to see some identification.” The blonde fished in his pocket and pulled out a leather picturefold, handing it to the secretary. She gingerly opened in, revealing a shiny badge in the shape of a ghost and a picture of the blonde, in better health. Underneath was a trainer card, reading:
Morton Matsuba Wraithman
Gym Leader: Ecruteak City
“Oh, Morty! I didn’t recognise you!” She looked up, smiling. “You look a bit under the weather.”
“Well, Mary, it’s been colder than usual.” He sneezed into his scarf. “I’m not exactly used to it after my vacation in the Orange Islands.”
“It’s good that you used up those personal days, though, considering you’d never taken one before! The League would’ve thrown them out after this year, otherwise.”
“Yes, I’m glad I had all those built up. It was well worth the wait.” The blonde, Morty, took back his picturefold and placed it back in his pocket. “If you don’t mind, I’ve got a party to be getting to.” He smiled and looked at his watch.
“Oh! Yes, of course. And right on time! It’s down the left hallway-”
“And to the left, as always.” Mary the secretary chuckled.
“Oh, Morty. Well, have fun!”
“You too.” Morty followed the left hallway down to the end, and pushed open a sliding glass door. The muffled sound behind the door suddenly became clear as he walked into the large auditorium.
“-missing a gym leader, we’ll be getting the festivities underway!”
Morty raised his voice slightly as he strolled down the red suede carpet towards the hardwood stage. “Oh, don’t worry, I’m here, I’m here.” The announcerwoman looked over and saw the blonde walking slowly up the side steps, coughing into his hand.
“And not a moment to soon! Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome the final gym leader, Morty Wraithman!” An applause roared up from the crowd as Morty took his seat between Chuck, the fighting gym leader, and Whitney, the normal gym leader.
“And now, without further ado, please welcome the new champion of the four hundred and seventy second annual Indigo-Johto League: Ethan deSpencer of New Bark Town!” A young boy, not more than twelve years old, raced up the steps two at a time and jogged across the stage to the announcerwoman and the previous champion, Lance. The violet haired dragon tamer pulled a wrap of cloth out of his coatpocket and handed it to the boy.
“And now, let the league be passed.” Lance spoke the traditional words he had heard himself not but a year ago.
The boy unwrapped the cloth fold, revealing a shining lapel pin underneath. The crowd exploded in applause as he pinned it to his collar. He held up his hands in two v shapes, reveling and basking in the victory.
The boy’s mother raced onstage and picked up her son, holding him as he as she could, her eyes leaking tears of joy.
Morty watched all this from his seat with the other gym leaders. It was the same dull routine that they went through every year with every new champion. Still, it was a welcome relief that this year’s league was over. It was nothing but repetitively steamrolling down the unworthy trainers and occasionally being bested by one potential champion. Morty chuckled as he saw the boy cheering and laughing. Morty could’ve easily steamrolled that young hopeful, but he saw something special in him, so he played it easy and let the boy beat him. Now, he was the latest addition to the Hall of Fame.
Morty, laid back as usual, let his eyes wander down two seats, to their newest, blue haired, colleague: Falkner Hayato MacKayley, leader of the flying type gym of Violet City. He’d taken over the gym only three years ago from his father, George MacKayley, who had died a year ago in a glider accident. He was a strange young boy, no older than sixteen or seventeen, and always wore a traditional Tohjohan kimono and sandals. For most people, their only connection to the ancient Tohjohan forefathers was their traditional Tohjohan middle name. Falkner clutched his Poké Balls tightly, which contained his father’s prized bird Pokémon. He looked down at his feet, feeling sad and defeated.
Then again, he was the newest gym leader, and by tradition the newest gym leader was the bitch of the group, recieving all the young hopeful trainers and weeding out the best for the others to challenge.
Morty was suddenly blasted out of his gaze, which he had locked on the young gym leader, when he heard the announcerwoman’s voice come over the speakers. “Alright, everybody. Calm down! The festivities will continue in the ballroom across the hallway. Please exit in an orderly fashion after the League!”
All the gym leaders and the Elite 4 stood up in unison, and formed a line with Ethan deSpencer and his mother at the head, Morty Wraithman in the second half, and the young Falkner MacKayley at the tail end, clingly tightly to the red and white spheres in each hand. The League centipeded downstage and up the red suede walkway, and crossed through the hallway as Ethan shoved open the sliding door.
They entered the ballroom, a huge room, even larger than the auditorium, all lined with teak and mahogany. On the opposite wall, a large, golden rendition of the Johto League logo: a stylised IJL, standing for Indigo-Johto League. Both the guests and the league leaders milled about in the ballroom, with soft music playing in the background. Champagne flowed like water, all the League besides Ethan holding a slender glass. Even Morty, not the drinking type, accepted a glass from the maitre’d.
He sipped at the bubbly, rose colored liquid, as he saw little Ethan deSpencer running about, flashing his sixteen badges and league pin at anybody and everybody who would pay attention. He sighed, both happy for the boy and sad at the realisation that he’d have to go through this rigimarole again in the spring. Morty glanced over at the opposite wall. Below the golden league symbol was an open window, and in front of that window was a young man in a sky blue kimono: Falkner MacKayley. Morty strolled over and set his glass down on the wooden ledge. He leaned with his arms folded on the wood, next to the young man. Falkner had his hands out the window, one filled with birdseed, the other holding a young Pidgey, who picked inquisitively at the unfamiliar food. Morty started to open his mouth to talk, but Falkner cut him off.
“It was a year ago, tomorrow...” he said, his forward gaze unchanging. Morty knew what Falkner meant, and exhaled heavily.
“Falkner, your father was a great ma-”
“They, they never found his body...” Falkner started to whimper, and the little bird, not used to sorrow, took one last peck and flew away. Tears started to slowly dribble down Falkner’s cheeks. He dropped the birdseed into the grass and pulled his hands back inside, caressing his face and mussing up the locks of his greenish-blue hair. Morty exhaled again, not sure what to do or say. He saw salty tears drip through the cracks between his fellow gym leader’s fingers. “Why... why, dad?” Falkner whispered. “He said he would go out for just one more run... just one more. And... he never came back...” Falkner started to openly weep. He took one hand off of his face and started to punch the wooden sill. “It isn’t fair!” Falkner was red in the face and barred his teeth, clenched together.
Morty opened his mouth again, wrapping an arm around the young man’s shoulders. “Sometimes life isn’t fair, Falkner.”
“Why did he have to die?” Falkner, still in a saddened rage stared deeply into the violet eyes of the ghost gym leader. “Why do I have to live up to what he was?”
“Falkner, I can’t answer that.” Falkner turned his face back down to the wood.
“Of course you can’t... nobody can.” Morty moved closer to the young gym leader. Without warning, the blue haired teenager thrust himself around Morty, weeping into his black shirt and holding him tightly.
Morty was shocked from the sudden tight hug, and people turned around, hearing Falkner’s sobs. Morty ignored the eyes and slowly stroked the flying trainer’s cerulean hair. Somewhat instinctively, he started to hum the tune of a lullabye which he vaguely remembered his mother playing to him as a child. “It’ll be okay,” Morty whispered as Falkner pulled himself from his colleague’s chest.
“I’m sorry...” Falkner whispered, noticing all the eyes locked on the pair. He returned to the ledge, blushing. “I miss him so much...” his voice small and intimidated.
“We all do, Falkner.” Seconds passed withut any talking, as a cold breeze blew through the still open window. Falkner wiped his face in his sleeve.
“He was the top gym leader, and now I’m the bottom. The goddamn bitch of the league.”
Morty, still unsure of what to say, scooted closer, and whispered. “Well, look at it this way. You don’t have to deal with the cocky idiot kids for four whole months now.” Falkner smiled shyly and Morty draped an arm around his back. “I remember when I was the newest gym leader. It was only four years ago. This kid brought a Sentret and tried to tackle my Gastly to death. He had a lot to learn about type immunities.” Falkner chuckled, as he had many similar stories. The two young men stared deeply into eachother’s eyes. Falkner’s waterworks had stopped entirely, the last tears that clung to his cheeks now drying in the cool breeze.
Neither master trainer knew exactly what had happened in that moment, but before they could realize it their warm lips were brushing against one another’s. First a peck, then a dabble further and then a passionate kiss, sending sparks through their minds as all other thoughts were erased from their heads, with the last rays of the orange sun dipping over the horizon.
Also, as a small note which barely influences the story, I think of "Tohjoh" as the Johto and Kanto continent, and long ago the Tohjohans, who are a lot like the Japanese, ruled Tohjoh, but adopted a new language and culture from the people of Hoenn when they crossed paths.
The stars in the TOC show how satisfied I was with that particular chapter, averaged out with the apparent readers' consensus. Here's a key for the ratings.
Ratings Key
★★★★★ 100% "Impeccable"
★★★★★ 90-99% "Excellent"
★★★★☆ 80-89% "Acceptable"
★★★☆☆ 70-79% "Substandard"
★★☆☆☆ 60-69% "Miserable"
★☆☆☆☆ 50-59% "Horrible"
☆☆☆☆☆ 0-49% "Failure"
★☆★☆★ "Rating Pending"
TABLE OF CONTENTS
Chapter One [scroll down]
★★★★★ 95% "Excellent"
Chapter Two
★★★★★ 100% "Impeccable"
Chapter Three
★★★☆☆ 75% "Substandard"
Chapter Four [same post as Chapter Three, scroll down]
★★★★☆ 85% "Acceptable"
Chapter Five
★★★★★ 95% "Excellent"
Chapter Six, Part One [Some parts NC-17]
★★★★★ 100% "Impeccable"
Chapter Six, Part Two [Some parts NC-17]
★★★★★ 95% "Excellent"
Chapter Seven
★★★★☆ 85% "Acceptable"
Chapter Eight
★★★★★ 90% "Excellent"
Chapter Nine
★☆★☆★ "Rating Pending"
Current Total Story Rating
★★★★★ 91.(1)% "Excellent"
Here's Chapter One:
CHAPTER ONE
Autumn had descended on the continent of Tohjoh. From the sky came cold breezes which flowed through the cities and towns of the Kanto and Johto regions, tugging orange, dead leaves from the now sleeping trees, whom were preparing for the cold of winter. The streets of Ecruteak City were filled with these leaves, as autumn had finally descended down from Bellchime Mountain were it continued year-round. A lone blonde man, no older than twenty, ambled through the cobblestone lanes, and fixed his eyes on a falling leaf in front of him, severed from its parent tree.
Falling
Dropping
Descending
Quicker and quicker and
HACHOO!
C
R
U
N
C
H
!
The leaf fell underfoot of the blonde man, who stumbled forward as he sneezed. He looked down at the mess of crushed bits that had once been a leaf, almost sad. But he knew that all life had to end, and so had this leaf’s. After all, he lead a gauntlet of ghost wielding trainers, and besting his own ghosts meant the right to the fourth badge of the Johto league. Unfortunately, the air was unseasonably cold this autumn and had surprised the gym leader’s body, afflicting him with a light cold.
Oh well, he thought, moving on. He had places to be. The man pulled his purple scarf a bit tighter around his neck, and kept walking until he reached a large stone building. His violet eyes scanned a bronze plaque nailed into the grey stone next to the revolving doors.
Indigo League: Johto Division Headquarters
The beginnings of an adventure await!
Same old, same old, the man thought, having read the plaque nearly ten thousand times. He strolled up to the revolving door and pushed into the handle, and walked circularly into the building. Finally, some warmth! he thought, loosening his scarf and coughing lightly into his elbow. He walked over to the building’s reception desk.
“Hi, I’m here for the league wrap party,” he said, the secretary’s back turned. She held up one finger and then pointed to the telephone held between the side of her head and her shoulder.
“Thanks again! Okay, see you in spring!” She placed the phone into the reciever and spun about face on her purple office chair. “Hello, sir. I’ll need to see some identification.” The blonde fished in his pocket and pulled out a leather picturefold, handing it to the secretary. She gingerly opened in, revealing a shiny badge in the shape of a ghost and a picture of the blonde, in better health. Underneath was a trainer card, reading:
Morton Matsuba Wraithman
Gym Leader: Ecruteak City
“Oh, Morty! I didn’t recognise you!” She looked up, smiling. “You look a bit under the weather.”
“Well, Mary, it’s been colder than usual.” He sneezed into his scarf. “I’m not exactly used to it after my vacation in the Orange Islands.”
“It’s good that you used up those personal days, though, considering you’d never taken one before! The League would’ve thrown them out after this year, otherwise.”
“Yes, I’m glad I had all those built up. It was well worth the wait.” The blonde, Morty, took back his picturefold and placed it back in his pocket. “If you don’t mind, I’ve got a party to be getting to.” He smiled and looked at his watch.
“Oh! Yes, of course. And right on time! It’s down the left hallway-”
“And to the left, as always.” Mary the secretary chuckled.
“Oh, Morty. Well, have fun!”
“You too.” Morty followed the left hallway down to the end, and pushed open a sliding glass door. The muffled sound behind the door suddenly became clear as he walked into the large auditorium.
“-missing a gym leader, we’ll be getting the festivities underway!”
Morty raised his voice slightly as he strolled down the red suede carpet towards the hardwood stage. “Oh, don’t worry, I’m here, I’m here.” The announcerwoman looked over and saw the blonde walking slowly up the side steps, coughing into his hand.
“And not a moment to soon! Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome the final gym leader, Morty Wraithman!” An applause roared up from the crowd as Morty took his seat between Chuck, the fighting gym leader, and Whitney, the normal gym leader.
“And now, without further ado, please welcome the new champion of the four hundred and seventy second annual Indigo-Johto League: Ethan deSpencer of New Bark Town!” A young boy, not more than twelve years old, raced up the steps two at a time and jogged across the stage to the announcerwoman and the previous champion, Lance. The violet haired dragon tamer pulled a wrap of cloth out of his coatpocket and handed it to the boy.
“And now, let the league be passed.” Lance spoke the traditional words he had heard himself not but a year ago.
The boy unwrapped the cloth fold, revealing a shining lapel pin underneath. The crowd exploded in applause as he pinned it to his collar. He held up his hands in two v shapes, reveling and basking in the victory.
The boy’s mother raced onstage and picked up her son, holding him as he as she could, her eyes leaking tears of joy.
Morty watched all this from his seat with the other gym leaders. It was the same dull routine that they went through every year with every new champion. Still, it was a welcome relief that this year’s league was over. It was nothing but repetitively steamrolling down the unworthy trainers and occasionally being bested by one potential champion. Morty chuckled as he saw the boy cheering and laughing. Morty could’ve easily steamrolled that young hopeful, but he saw something special in him, so he played it easy and let the boy beat him. Now, he was the latest addition to the Hall of Fame.
Morty, laid back as usual, let his eyes wander down two seats, to their newest, blue haired, colleague: Falkner Hayato MacKayley, leader of the flying type gym of Violet City. He’d taken over the gym only three years ago from his father, George MacKayley, who had died a year ago in a glider accident. He was a strange young boy, no older than sixteen or seventeen, and always wore a traditional Tohjohan kimono and sandals. For most people, their only connection to the ancient Tohjohan forefathers was their traditional Tohjohan middle name. Falkner clutched his Poké Balls tightly, which contained his father’s prized bird Pokémon. He looked down at his feet, feeling sad and defeated.
Then again, he was the newest gym leader, and by tradition the newest gym leader was the bitch of the group, recieving all the young hopeful trainers and weeding out the best for the others to challenge.
Morty was suddenly blasted out of his gaze, which he had locked on the young gym leader, when he heard the announcerwoman’s voice come over the speakers. “Alright, everybody. Calm down! The festivities will continue in the ballroom across the hallway. Please exit in an orderly fashion after the League!”
All the gym leaders and the Elite 4 stood up in unison, and formed a line with Ethan deSpencer and his mother at the head, Morty Wraithman in the second half, and the young Falkner MacKayley at the tail end, clingly tightly to the red and white spheres in each hand. The League centipeded downstage and up the red suede walkway, and crossed through the hallway as Ethan shoved open the sliding door.
They entered the ballroom, a huge room, even larger than the auditorium, all lined with teak and mahogany. On the opposite wall, a large, golden rendition of the Johto League logo: a stylised IJL, standing for Indigo-Johto League. Both the guests and the league leaders milled about in the ballroom, with soft music playing in the background. Champagne flowed like water, all the League besides Ethan holding a slender glass. Even Morty, not the drinking type, accepted a glass from the maitre’d.
He sipped at the bubbly, rose colored liquid, as he saw little Ethan deSpencer running about, flashing his sixteen badges and league pin at anybody and everybody who would pay attention. He sighed, both happy for the boy and sad at the realisation that he’d have to go through this rigimarole again in the spring. Morty glanced over at the opposite wall. Below the golden league symbol was an open window, and in front of that window was a young man in a sky blue kimono: Falkner MacKayley. Morty strolled over and set his glass down on the wooden ledge. He leaned with his arms folded on the wood, next to the young man. Falkner had his hands out the window, one filled with birdseed, the other holding a young Pidgey, who picked inquisitively at the unfamiliar food. Morty started to open his mouth to talk, but Falkner cut him off.
“It was a year ago, tomorrow...” he said, his forward gaze unchanging. Morty knew what Falkner meant, and exhaled heavily.
“Falkner, your father was a great ma-”
“They, they never found his body...” Falkner started to whimper, and the little bird, not used to sorrow, took one last peck and flew away. Tears started to slowly dribble down Falkner’s cheeks. He dropped the birdseed into the grass and pulled his hands back inside, caressing his face and mussing up the locks of his greenish-blue hair. Morty exhaled again, not sure what to do or say. He saw salty tears drip through the cracks between his fellow gym leader’s fingers. “Why... why, dad?” Falkner whispered. “He said he would go out for just one more run... just one more. And... he never came back...” Falkner started to openly weep. He took one hand off of his face and started to punch the wooden sill. “It isn’t fair!” Falkner was red in the face and barred his teeth, clenched together.
Morty opened his mouth again, wrapping an arm around the young man’s shoulders. “Sometimes life isn’t fair, Falkner.”
“Why did he have to die?” Falkner, still in a saddened rage stared deeply into the violet eyes of the ghost gym leader. “Why do I have to live up to what he was?”
“Falkner, I can’t answer that.” Falkner turned his face back down to the wood.
“Of course you can’t... nobody can.” Morty moved closer to the young gym leader. Without warning, the blue haired teenager thrust himself around Morty, weeping into his black shirt and holding him tightly.
Morty was shocked from the sudden tight hug, and people turned around, hearing Falkner’s sobs. Morty ignored the eyes and slowly stroked the flying trainer’s cerulean hair. Somewhat instinctively, he started to hum the tune of a lullabye which he vaguely remembered his mother playing to him as a child. “It’ll be okay,” Morty whispered as Falkner pulled himself from his colleague’s chest.
“I’m sorry...” Falkner whispered, noticing all the eyes locked on the pair. He returned to the ledge, blushing. “I miss him so much...” his voice small and intimidated.
“We all do, Falkner.” Seconds passed withut any talking, as a cold breeze blew through the still open window. Falkner wiped his face in his sleeve.
“He was the top gym leader, and now I’m the bottom. The goddamn bitch of the league.”
Morty, still unsure of what to say, scooted closer, and whispered. “Well, look at it this way. You don’t have to deal with the cocky idiot kids for four whole months now.” Falkner smiled shyly and Morty draped an arm around his back. “I remember when I was the newest gym leader. It was only four years ago. This kid brought a Sentret and tried to tackle my Gastly to death. He had a lot to learn about type immunities.” Falkner chuckled, as he had many similar stories. The two young men stared deeply into eachother’s eyes. Falkner’s waterworks had stopped entirely, the last tears that clung to his cheeks now drying in the cool breeze.
Neither master trainer knew exactly what had happened in that moment, but before they could realize it their warm lips were brushing against one another’s. First a peck, then a dabble further and then a passionate kiss, sending sparks through their minds as all other thoughts were erased from their heads, with the last rays of the orange sun dipping over the horizon.
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