Pokémon x Male Reader-The Sounds of Battle

Chapter 16-A Poor Night's Sleep

A/N: I don't own Pokémon. If I did, I would've removed the Ice Path from the Johto games in order to save my six year old self some grief.
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"From the Desert of Route four~"

"Till we're knocking on Twist mountain's door~"

"The Pokémon Rangers will search far and wide~"

"We will let no crime slide~"

Pawniard growled to herself, shooting the blond haired boy, apparently named 'Virgil' a nasty look. One that he didn't notice, because of course he didn't. That would've been a nice change of pace. Unfortunately, he was far too busy making her weigh the benefits and drawbacks of Seppuku, with the absolutely horrendous song of his.

No, that was no song. "More of a verbal torture method than anything. Not only is he tone deaf, but it sounds like whoever cooked up those lyrics did it in two goddamned minutes."

"Ve!" The smug looking fur ball on his lap, however, certainly did catch wind of her nasty side eye. Eevee stuck out his tongue at Pawniard in what she presumed was an attempt to taunt her. Were that not enough, In an overwhelming display of maturity, the normal type then blew her a raspberry.

Such a juvenile act should've gone ignored.

Of course, Pawniard fell for it. Hook, line, and sinker.

Growling to herself, Pawniard decided to avert her gaze before she got another aneurysm. On a better day, she would've walked right over there and taken a swipe at the little brat, but face was still all jacked up, and each little movement stung like hell. Her trainer also would've been pissed, and (y/n) already looked like he was distraught over something (as usual).

Therefore, she decided a verbal assault against another source of her foul mood would be just as effective. That being the Pokémon who put her in this state to begin with.  "Does your Boss always sing like shit?"

Said Pokémon, who'd currently been brooding in a way only a defeated Pokémon could've, turned to her with a sigh. The yellow rings on his body shimmered in the moonlight, fading in and out as he spoke. "How uncouth. Though, not at all inaccurate. His talents in the field of music...leave something to be desired, especially with his choice of song. He loves that foul tune. His phone even plays it when he receives a call from father." Umbreon's voice was smooth, classy and elegant. Some people may have categorized it as 'velvety', or 'like butter'. Pawniard would've likened it more so to the stuff that flowed through the pipes of the sewers of Castelia, because she was kind of spiteful like that.

Nothing like a little blood sport to get the tensions flowing, Huh? "Also, I told you already." Umbreon's tone became a bit more stern with her, like the one a parent would use when speaking to a child. Pawniard didn't like that. Only one living person had earned the respect to speak to her with that tone, and it certainly wasn't this bastard. "He's our Trainer. Not our boss, not our lord, and he's certainly not our king, or whatever weird title you want to give him when you inevitably address him again."

"Whatever." Pawniard grunted. "It's just a title anyways. Who really gives a Raticate's ass? S'not like me running my mouth affects your dynamic anyways. If you're really that concerned, then just chin up and serve your boss even better."

Umbreon sighed once again as his words went ignored. "Still, it would be nice for your trainer to teach you some more manners, or any manners, for that matter." He scoffed, crossing his front legs overtop one another. "Just because we serve under humans doesn't mean we're savages. A Pokémon is just as synonymous with their trainers image as anything else. We have to make sure that image is well represented, both on and off of the battlefield."