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Submas Autistic Joy 2022
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Published:
2022-07-24
Completed:
2022-08-23
Words:
1,722
Chapters:
3/3
Comments:
24
Kudos:
183
Bookmarks:
21
Hits:
1,959

head on (hold onto your heart)

Summary:

quirked up subway masters with the autistic swag

Chapter 1: shutdowns

Notes:

howdy. i’ve decided to write a little for the autistic joy submas event! i switched this first prompt out with my own, so instead of “journey/beginnings”, it’s “shutdown”! but all the other prompts are the same!

i doubt i’ll be able to upload every day, but i’m gonna try my best!

title from the disability national anthem (/j) “Head On (Hold Onto Your Heart)” by the band Man Man! go check it out, it’s really sweet :)

Chapter Text

It sneaks up on him, sometimes. The heavy weight of it all, closing in, draping itself around Ingo’s shoulders.

His normally-eloquent—and often boisterous—voice is rendered useless, his dexterous hands fidget restlessly on his lap. All he finds he can do is simply exist, to thoughtlessly go through the motions of life until his mind catches back up to him.

It overcomes him once again after an exhausting day of battles. He had fun, of course he did, but it takes a lot out of him; often, he finds that he doesn’t want to see anyone at all when it happens—including Emmet.

He’s placing dishes in the sink after a quick dinner when he feels it start, like a dense fog passing over his brain. Forcing himself over to his couch, he melts into the cushions and lets his head fall back against the frame.

The lights are much too loud… he really should have turned them off before he sat down, but the switch is too far for his heavy limbs. Instead, he lets his eyelids fall shut as he stares up at the ceiling.

He’s not tired, not really… it’s still so early, but he feels himself drifting off despite it. It’s the least painful conclusion to a shutdown, Ingo thinks, so he won’t complain.

He will allow himself this.

Then the front door is thrown open, and he’s suddenly swarmed by dozens of skittering, fuzzy creatures. His eyes snap open to see Emmet in the doorway and a wave of Joltiks crawling up his legs.

“Dearest brother Ingo, wonderful news! All fifteen eggs hatched today! Can you believe it? Yup, all fifteen of them!” he proudly announces, moving inside and closing the door behind him. Ingo feels his stomach swoop, nauseous panic rising under his skin. “Oh, they already see you as their adoptive caretaker! That is excellent. Good. You said you’d watch them this weekend while I’m gone! Erm, Ingo?”

The named man screws his eyes shut, leaning as far away from the sensation as physically possible. The last thing he wants to do is swat them off; they are freshly-hatched, after all… but if they make it up to his torso, he can’t guarantee he can hold it together.

Then he hears a distant, quiet gasp from his brother, the clearing of his throat, and then—

Emmet snaps once, loudly, and every single little Joltik turns at attention.

“Hatchlings, return to station! Everybody ready? Alright, let’s go! Follow the rules! Come on!”

He leads each Joltik down and back to him, using just his commanding voice and dexterous hands. Ingo would otherwise be impressed if for not how miserable he is.

“Excellent! Fantastic. Look at all of you, such wonderful passengers already!”

The tiny Pokemon gather into Emmet’s arms, and he quickly counts each one. Then he turns to Ingo, smiling apologetically.

“Sorry about that. They’re verrry hyper! Kind of ironic. If you think about it. Because they can’t actually generate their own energy. I hope they’re not stealing mine when I’m not looking!”

Ingo breathes a quiet huff, the ghost of a laugh, as he curls back up on the couch. Emmet offers him a softer, lop-sided smile, slowly approaching the armrest.

“That was a joke. They can steal my energy whenever they want… Can I sit here?”

He nods, and his brother perches on the edge of the couch, arms full of Joltik. They’re actually remarkably well-behaved, if one could simply disregard their initial impression.

“Sick?”

He shakes his head, tense, and something noticeably clicks inside Emmet’s head. His eyes light up, smile turning into something a bit softer.

“Ohh, okay. Okay! We will leave you be. Do you want water?”

Ingo hesitates at first, but eventually he gives his brother a slight nod. The other man stands, heading to the kitchen. The Joltiks free up his left hand seemingly on instinct, migrating and clinging onto his other arm.

Through the fog of his thickly-clouded mind, Ingo can still piece together a very simple fact: Emmet is extraordinarily good with the hatchlings.

After finally getting the perfect Joltik, he’d taken to breeding for the sole purpose of simply giving them to whoever wanted one. After all, who wouldn’t want a Joltik raised by one of the greatest trainers in Unova?

A bit of weight lifts off his shoulders from the pride he feels for his twin. It’s not nearly enough to pull him out of his shutdown, but that’s okay, he determines, because Emmet is handing him a glass of water with the same amount of kindness as always, an air of deep understanding surrounding him. He dips his head in thanks, watching his brother’s eyes scrunch at the corners.

“We’ll check up on you in the morning. Do you want me to turn the light off?”

Ingo can feel his neck ache with how hard he nods. Emmet laughs, good-natured and genuine, before slowly dimming the switch until it’s dark. The Joltik pack glows a dim yellow around his arm, illuminating his bright, white suit.

“Rest easy, my friend,” he says softly, and Ingo tips his head down with deep gratitude.

He watches him leave, hatchlings in tow, and the silence that lingers doesn’t feel nearly as lonely.

Chapter 2: stimming

Notes:

bit of a shorter one today! and i actually don’t flap my hands so this was a bit of a challenge to write, but i hope i did a good job!!

also yes i know archeops isn’t in the battle subway but what if . he was. :)

Chapter Text

Emmet isn’t the only one on his team who loves to win battles... His Pokemon adore it, too!

He gazes upon the pouting face of his most recent Battle Subway challenger, reciting the same script he’s stated countless times before.

“I am Emmet. I won against you. But I think I just got lucky.”

His Archeops and Durant flash him a sideways glance, their knowing eyes full of a mischievous glint. They’re practically vibrating with energy that wasn’t used on their opponent.

“Please win 20 battles in a row and fight with me! I look forward to seeing you again!"

The challenger nods wordlessly, tipping their hat in silent thanks and promptly departing the train. As soon as the door slides closed, Archeops leaps up into the air, rumbling and squawking as he runs along the walls of the car. Durant clicks her massive mandibles, stamping her tiny feet on the floor.

Emmet laughs, his professional stance dropping in an instant. “Perfect! Fantastic job. Yes, you’re both excellent passengers!”

Feeling excitement buzzing out to his arms, Emmet is overwhelmed with the simple, natural urge to move. So, move he does! Pushing his wrists up, gloved hands flung loosely, again and again; no one to tell him otherwise, and it's what he might call freedom.

Archeops lands in front of him, chirping and chittering, energetically bobbing his head. He raises his wings, flapping them wildly, his long, blue feathers rippling loudly in the wind.

“You’ll take flight if you go any faster!” the man jokes, reaching down to playfully ruffle his fluffy chest. His avian friend nuzzles into his neck, practically purring deep in his throat.

Durant approaches the duo, wiggling her antennae and clicking her jaws. Emmet offers her an open palm, his smile turning gentle as he watches her climb onto it—albeit, a bit clumsily—without hesitation. It’s always a pleasure when Emmet is reminded that his friends truly trust him with all their heart.

He simply sits with his Pokemon, enjoying their company, until a new challenger is suddenly announced over the speakers. He stands, petting Archeops apologetically when he squawks in surprise.

“Want to show them what we're made of?” he asks, waiting for his Pokemon's approval. Archeops flaps his wings excitedly, chirping and whistling, while Durant chitters happily in Emmet's ear.

He nods, gives them both a pat on the head, and slips back into his role of Subway Master.

Chapter 3: together

Notes:

omg hiiii... been a while, huh? long story short, i got suspended for quite a while bc of a certain tag mentioning certain shippers of a certain pairing i didn’t want interacting…… yah. bit overkill if you ask me but whatever

since the autistic joy event is long done at this point, i think i’ll just scrap the rest of the chapters as i didn’t get very far with them. but thank you for reading and know that i’m super grateful for all the comments and kudos!

i do have another submas fic in the works inspired by one of the prompts, but i’m going to post it separately since it got like. ridiculously long lmao

this prompt tested my emmet characterization and dialogue abilities, because each one of his depictions is fairly different from the other. i tried to combine game, manga, and pokemas emmet into one ultimate eternal emmet. hope i did him justice! enjoy!

Chapter Text

“Do you find it funny?” Emmet suddenly asks after a bout of silence.

Ingo hums, glancing to his brother, sat beside him on the long ride home. His eyes are tired, but his smile is genuine.

“At the end of the day, we’re both just passengers on another conductor’s train.”

Ingo huffs a short, breathy laugh. “I certainly see the irony, yes... That is quite profound of you, Emmet.”

“Thank you,” he chuckles, “I’ve been practicing. You know.”

“Oh? What for?”

Emmet suddenly seems a bit unsure; the corners of his mouth twist, lips pursed.

“A recent passenger,” he starts, smile quickly returning to his features. “Fairly disgruntled, really! Upset that we won. Told me that my talking is bad. It is… insufficient. Insufficient! The word they used.”

Ingo folds his hands, gazing absentmindedly at Emmet’s nose as he thinks.

“I certainly don’t think so.” He leans back against the car’s seat. The hard plastic has not become any more comfortable over the years. “In fact, I believe your manner of speech is perfectly sufficient.”

Emmet hums softly, yawning and letting his head fall back against the dingy headrest.

“Good to hear, coming from Dearest Brother Ingo. The foremost expert on Emmet besides Emmet,” he mumbles out, a genuine smile laced into his tired voice. His words are teasing, but there’s an air of sincerity surrounding them; one that Ingo picks up on immediately.

“I take my studies very seriously. This includes Emmet-ology, of course.”

The named man crosses his arms, getting as comfortable as he can on the train's seat. “Are they offering that, now?”

“Yes. But only at Ingo University.”

“Ah. Of course.” His weary eyes finally slide shut, his smile small but amused. “I’d expect no less from such an esteemed establishment.”

They’re closer now physically, mere inches between them. There’s a noticeable hesitance in Emmet’s form, as if he’s waiting for permission.

“You may rest on me, if you’d like.”

His words break the metaphorical dam, and his brother falls to his side like a magnet. Emmet sighs contently, nuzzling into his shoulder.

“Much more comfortable than subway seats,” he mumbles, lips smushed against his arm. Ingo hums, wrapping an arm tight around his twin.

“Rest easy, my friend. We shall arrive in—”

The sound of soft snoring interrupts him. He breathes out a quiet chuckle, patting his brother's shoulder.

Not for the first time, and certainly not the last, Ingo is envious of how quickly the other man is able to conk out. 

And, although it falls on deaf ears, he feels compelled to offer him a soft, "I am very proud of you."