Pokémon Kink Meme pt. 1 [CLOSED FOR PROMPTS, OPEN FOR FILLS]
KINK MEME | GENFIC MEME | ANON MEME
the pokémon kink meme I
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✘ Pick any pairing, any kink and post anonymously. All combinations of characters and/or pokémon are allowed ( Read more... )
Giovanni wasn’t the one who fed her, though; a lady with bright red hair did that. She called herself Ariana, and the others looked at her as though she were a queen. But the little singer girl, injured and frightened as she was, couldn’t keep the disgust out of her eyes when she looked at the woman.
When Ariana noticed, she slapped her, hard, across the face. Neither of them knew that he, ‘Prometheus’, was watching from the wall.
Ariana saw him after a minute, though, hand still fresh from striking the singer down, and rushed over. “Congratulations on your promotion,” she said, nearly crushing him with a hug, and no slap could have hurt the girl on the floor more than seeing her Prometheus - the only good boy in the world - decked out in the Team Rocket uniform, an executive’s badge on his shirt.
Meanwhile, the boy had stopped going to the dingy diner. They’d hired a new singer, and her voice (angelic, lovely) just couldn’t measure up.
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Then he realized that between the glares, they only exchanged worried glances and soft words. It wasn’t hatred they shared; what was it?
The next day, Archer showed the singer girl the bodies in the alleyway. “Once you’ve got the red mark,” he said, “you’re his, no matter what happens.” His hands folded over his chest, he looked away. “They didn’t listen.”
She didn’t have the red mark yet. She wasn’t sure what this had to do with anything.
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Somehow, it had gotten caught at the bottom of his pocket. The wire, torn and bent out of shape, poked through into his flesh, and he almost didn’t bother pulling it back out. He deserved it. He’d ruined her, so it was only right that this earring would ruin him.
“Are you going to do anything?”
He looked up, but no one was there. He twisted around in confusion, but there was only…
A mirror.
He stared back at himself - sallow face, black hair and bangs over his face - and saw something new. Something in those sad, silent eyes that told him that there was something better out there than this sad, lonely existence. Something better out there than this secrecy and this fear and these stupid red symbols on his clothes and his flesh and his pokemon.
And he started running, because nothing gives you more adrenaline than realizing that you can make something right and save someone who deserves better.
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Just then, she remembered the raticate’s paw, the sad look in her boy’s eye when he knew something bad was going to happen, and suddenly -
“Hey!”
It was the only thing he knew to say (after all they’d been through, he still didn’t know her name) but it got her attention and Archer’s, but for whatever reason, his fellow executive didn’t seem upset.
Her eyes were still wide and untrusting, but something in her seemed willing to listen. “I’ll take you and run from here!” he shouted. For once, he didn’t let his fear of death and his fear of Giovanni (or were they the same thing) hold him back. “I don’t care what it takes, but I care for you. I’ll stick with you, even if it means hollowness and emptiness and dry sleepless nights…” he gasped for breath and held out his hand. “That’s what it means to protect you…”
Archer watched them go sadly. For him, this was farewell, but Giovanni didn’t believe in happy endings.
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It was a broken fairytale, though, and this prince wasn’t the kind that could give his princess the world.
They lasted three days together. Three glorious days and two dry, sleepless nights, chasing the place where the dusk met the horizon. For once, he told her everything, how his real name was Maroon and he’d come from a little bitty town on the border of Kanto and how he’d never really wanted to join Team Rocket, but by the time he’d figured out what he was getting himself into, he already had a red symbol dyed onto his forehead and it was too late.
For those three days, he was smiling without those sad lines around his eyes, and she was singing, not just because she had to, but because she could.
He was still smiling and she was still singing when a bullet tore the world apart.
It was later, when she was sobbing in her hotel bathroom and washing blood off her only dress, that she remembered the rest of Prometheus’ story. How he’d been chained to a mountain forever because he dared give fire to the world.
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She raised her son Red in a place called Pallet Town, where the sky did a mesmerizing dance with the rise and fall of the sun.
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He tugged his shirt up, just enough for ... her to see the red symbol on his hip, matching a red spark in his eye.
This is why, kiddos, you should edit your stuff before you submit it.
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