This story will contain violence, cruelty, terrorism, war, frequent cursing, hood rapping, realistic Pokémon, Pokémon hunting, and the ingredients to a pipe bomb. Reader discretion is advised.
I own nothing but the story concept and the OCs within.
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Vulpix stretched her paws and blearily blinked her eyes open, yawning widely and tilting her head up.
She saw a face that grew a tiny bit of hair seemingly overnight, blinked, then slowly rose to her feet to look over the human who went from shooting at her to snuggling her within a day.
As soon as she left, the human seemed to curl in on himself, closing his arms over his chest and pulling his legs up a bit. Was it that cold in the cave?
She frowned seeing the bruises on his arm, remembering the bruises and marks on his back when he pulled off his shirt near the stream.
Looking back, she saw that the fire he had created had gone out, and there were just a couple soft glowings beneath the ashes. And so she padded around the campfire and into the forest, spotting a couple sticks nearby.
She went back and forth three times, carrying two sticks in her mouth each. Once she had a few, she whispered out a stream of fire into them. They caught aflame instantly.
Something inside of her hummed at the fire, and she nodded in contentment, sitting on her haunches and glancing over to the human. He didn't seem to notice the fire. Sighing, she shook her head and went back to him, sliding in between his arms.
He moved instantly, cuddling her to his chest even in his sleep. Annoyed, she tried to resist for a second before she gave up and simply slunk into a more comfortable position, paws on top of his bicep and head on top of her paws.
She studied his face then. He seemed to softly smile in his sleep. A little thing. Like it was his natural state. Natural peacefulness? She was glad. He had so much turmoil the day before.
He was a quiet sleeper. His chest rose with his breaths, and he breathed through a slightly open mouth.
His thoughts were not quiet, however. Vulpix always knew she was more gifted than usual when it came to her psychic abilities, but this man seemed to scream his thoughts. No shielding them whatsoever. Her mom taught her to always keep her thoughts to herself. She never met her father, and her mother never spoke of him.
She suspected it wasn't another Ninetales or a Vulpix, for why else wouldn't she speak of him?
Slipping her mind back on track before she ended up falling asleep, she reached out with her mind and poked his, trying to get a feeling of what he was dreaming about.
Comfy, blanket, sniper, hidden, brush, snuggles, brush, pillow fort?
What was a pillow fort? He seemed at peace though, and was obviously dreaming about warmth because of her. She smiled, then, happy with that.
She was taught to be wary of humans. Always. They would take you and force you to fight. They were not kind creatures, her mom had said. Humans took her mom away, so Vulpix had to agree.
Yet this human couldn't be like the rest. The first time she touched his mind was when he held that metal weapon towards her, that metal weapon which put holes in rock and would do far worse to her.
Confusion, small, fire, fucking were the responses, and then he lowered it. Confusion, fire, guilt, home? Were the following. Her mind panged in pain, then, and she withdrew to rest her psychic muscles.
He ended up speaking, and seemed surprised she nodded. Shocked, even. Absolutely baffled. And so he took a seat, resting, and then when he asked her a question and she didn't know how to respond, so he took off his hand coverings and head covering and looked outside.
Once she gathered enough energy, she touched his mind again. Home, miss, dead, family.
Oh. She remembered thinking. That's why.
He was in the same boat as her. And she couldn't take the emotions coming from him without trying to attack them back, and so she rubbed against him like she would display affection to her mother.
And then he petted her. And it was glorious.
She still didn't understand why he reeked of blood, though. It was an acidy scent, something she had to grow used to. It helped that he clearly didn't like it either judging by how he tried to wash it off, but the stream she found couldn't wash him. He was too big.
Or maybe she and it were too small? She huffed, snuggling closer to the man and rolling over to her side.
She didn't understand why he took off his coverings but kept his pants on. Or why he took off his coverings in the first place. She understood why, now, humans wore coverings- they couldn't handle the cold.
Well, she was warm, and so she'd let the fellow survivor be warm via her. Something she was doing must have woken him, though, as he blinked his eyes open and quietly surveyed the cave before looking down at her.
When he caught her eyes with his, he smiled, and slowly let go of her. He moved his legs forward and rose to the left, coming into a sitting position.
Disgruntled now as she was disturbed from falling back asleep, as was her plan, she let out another yawn after moving onto her haunches. She then felt a hand cupping her cheek and right ear, and tensed as he started petting. Eventually she leaned into it, beginning to purr.
He was kind, she thought. But to make sure those were his intentions she poked into his mind again and discovered safe, young, soft, cold and laughed to herself as the human discovered the chilly air.
After a couple moments he got up, and she could hear his stomach protest against existence without food in it. Hers respond in kind, and she felt her cheeks warm.
He didn't seem to hear her, then, or himself, for he simply glanced at the fire then back at her. His smile grew in strength, before he headed outside with long strides.
She padded over to the entrance, then watched as he picked up a few heavy sticks, and then..set them down against the cliff face to the right of the entrance?
"Stocking up. So we don't gotta go get some each time we want a fire."
She blinked and looked at the voice when it started speaking, and thought it over. That was…clever. She justified her never thinking that up with the fact she never needed to make a fire to keep warm in the night.
Well, either way, he could have fun with that. She was going to go eat some berries and see if she can spot a smaller Pokémon to hunt.
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When she returned a good three hours later, she found a very large pile of heavier branches and a smaller pile of smaller sticks. The human wasn't anywhere to be found. His helmet and boots were left behind and tucked away neatly on top of his vest thingies, in a corner of the cave.
She scoffed to herself. Since when did he assume this was his home now? She found it first!
…Though she didn't mind. It'd be nice to have company, however long he'd stay. He was a survivor, just like her, so she'd let him use her cave just like she was to live. Only for a little bit though!
Even though she'd get bored where she was, though, so she'd been scouting the area around. The stream led to a larger river, which seemed to widen the further right you went from facing away from the cliff face.
The cliff face grew in that same direction, in tallness. She didn't know which Pokémon took up residence up there.
Sighing to herself, she shook her head free of those thoughts and walked around the edge of the cave entrance. She then froze, seeing the last addition to the little area.
Resting on his thin chest covering, was a good sized pile of the purple-blue berries with yellow stripes between mounds. Food?
Just left here? Gathered for her?
She looked left, trying to find the human. Why? Why this kindness?
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It's been four days since the human arrived. It was swift that he proved his species' tendency to build things. So far, he had built a "firepit" where that "campfire" was, allowing them to feel warmth through the night without having to snuggle.
Not that she wanted to stop, anyways. Physical affection was nice. She…didn't get much.
A "bed" was the second thing, though it was more of a pile of soft ferns on top of dead grass. It poked her in places at times, but it was much, much more comfortable than the stone. She'd take it happily.
Finally, he built a "clothesline". Using "twine", which was just dead grass looped with fibers from pants, he threaded a short "cord" from one tree to another in a spot the sun often shined in. He soaked his clothes often, even his pants and the garb he wears underneath.
He was..interesting, nude. She hadn't seen any human nude, and Pokémon didn't need clothes. Yet, it felt forbidden, like he was supposed to wear the coverings he did, and it was weird seeing him without.
Thankfully, it wasn't for long, and she could just leave if she wanted to. Not that she really cared, honestly, he was just muscle and thick body hair. No different from any Pokémon built for combat. Eventually, she stopped paying attention to it.
He was obviously built for combat, though. On the fourth day he started "exercising", laying flat with his arms holding him up perpendicular from his chest.
"Push ups" were followed by "sit ups" and then ten laps around a grove of trees he determined didn't have many roots that threatened to trip him.
And yet, he still put off emotions of longing for home and questions on if he exists. On the third day, he started asking her yes and no questions about her world. Those about her parents she refused to answer and most of the rest she didn't know.
World? Was he not from theirs? He was a grown adult, and obviously a warrior. Had he not been places?
It still left a bad taste in her mouth that he was a warrior. The evidence was on his back and arms. Bruises from being hit, or falling on something. The way he always examined his surroundings. The way he was suspicious of every living creature that he came across- even Pikipeks.
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.
The first Gunshoo that tried to attack him, though, learned the hard way that the human knew how to kick.
It reminded her of her mother.
Her mother was a "trainer's Pokémon", and she was made to battle other Pokémon for money and sport. Her mom had admitted she loved it, just ended up not liking what her trainer had become after he got a taste of that money and glory.
She missed her mom. She hoped the humans didn't hurt her.
This human really didn't hurt her ever, though. He seemed to consider her in everything he did or set out to do. Patiently telling her about things if she acted curious about it. The purpose of wood, of straw, and how his weapon worked.
Small explosions propelled a metal projectile through a metal tube at high speeds. This "bullet" was fearsome, more powerful than her Embers, yet limited in number. The only two he had fired were those fired at her, from the best of his knowledge.
The Gumshoo ran after being kicked in the face. The human was surprised by it, the kick was caused by being caught off guard.
What was most shocking was making weapons out of specific branches. "Spears", he called them, skinny but sharp tipped things that kept the enemy at range. "Stick 'em with the pointy end", he had said.
Right now she watched from the bank of the larger river as he waded into it, holding the spear high above him and a little behind his head. After a moment, he threw it down swiftly, the weapon skewering something in the water. He brought up a small WishiWashi. He moved it onto the ground as it flapped around on the stick. He planted a bare foot onto its tailfin, jerked out the fin, then stabbed its head swiftly.
It stopped moving instantly, and they bagged one. Nodding in contentment, he placed that specimen onto his "jacket", then waded into the river again.
She watched carefully as he seemed to frown in confusion. He shrugged, and then readied himself before spearing another fish- a small magikarp this time.
Poking into his mind, she heard flee, run, not, red and chuffed as she realized he found out that Magikarp are too stupid to run.
Two more Magikarp were bagged, as be couldn't find another WishiWashi. Of course not- they're smart enough to run away. He then folded his jacket over itself, then grabbed the ends and moved it over his shoulder like a rucksack. The spear was propped up against a tree, and then he reached down and picked up his rifle.
"Heading back to our cave. You coming with?"
Our? And he was waiting for her answer. Swallowing, she nodded and padded after him. Her mouth felt dry all the sudden as she mulled over his words.
Since when was he comfortable enough enough think about their cave as theirs instead of hers? Did he ever think it was hers? Did it matter?
It likely didn't, not effectively, and yet she couldn't ignore the bad taste in her mouth.
These thoughts would plague her until they reached the cave, to which Holloway placed the fish to the right and then started a fire. She shot a small ember into the fire when he got his steel claw out, and the appreciative smile she got sent her way way so genuine he might as well be sending gratitude over a psychic link to her.
That made her feel off. She smiled, sitting nearby, mulling over what it meant to do something for another person because their gratitude made you feel nice about yourself.
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Humming to himself, he grabbed a stick and set it over the flames, rotating it slowly. Confused and curious, she watched as it slowly turned black. Once half of it turned as such, he drew it back, then grabbed his steel claw, pieces of wood off a tip of the stick to make another spear.
He grabbed a Magikarp, then, sliding the stick lengthwise through its rear end until it stabbed out of its head. He arranged six thick sticks in a sort of leaning triangle, three on each side of the fire. He laid the fish lengthwise over the fire.
She blinked, unsure what he was doing. He sat down after that, however, so she padded over to him and curled up against the side of his leg, staring into the flames. She felt comfortable.
Before long, after being reduced to a purring and happy mess, she noticed that a smell was coming from the Magikarp that set her stomach flying in loops. It smelled divine. She got up then, staring into the fire, licking her chops.
He didn't move for it though, and so she didn't move.
"Smell that, do you? It'll be done soon, maybe another five minutes."
She watched him work, now, twirling the stick around. Those five minutes lasted for five hours, but eventually he nodded in contentment and used his steel claw to slide the fish onto a..blackened stone? When had he done that?
With that done, he slid another Magikarp onto the stick, putting it back where the first was. He scooted back and motioned to the Magikarp. She went to move but was stopped by his voice.
"So! I don't want to scale or remove the fish guts without cooking those first, as I don't know what diseases are in there and I don't want to contaminate the only knife I have. There might be more inside the fish, but my immune system is likely less than yours. That's why I cook my food in the first place. Well, that, plus the taste."
She understood in a loose sense. Did he mean like how grass Pokémon were weak to poison Pokémon? Diseases was a new word. She nodded after making eye contact with him anyways, but returned her gaze to the Magikarp.
The human then sliced the fish from head to tail, before splitting it open. Blood spilled over the slab of stone before trickling into the fire. When did he angle it? She needed to pay more attention.
But she was hungry and hadn't eaten meat in a while. The human then used the flat of his blade to push some squishy parts and parts she thought she could eat into the fire. He probably knew best, though.
What was left was tissue that he bit off a slice and then popped in his mouth.
"Ow. Hot. Good though, go ahead."
He cut up the fish then, pulling out the tissue inside before placing it down and slicing it into pieces.
"I woulda scaled it, but I don't know how you'd deal with the skin, so don't worry about it."
She had bigger things to worry about, though. Once he pushed the remains of the fish into the flames and set down the slab of meat before her, she dug in.
This…is amazing? How?
How did Vulpix or her mother never come up with breathing fire onto their meat to make it taste better?
Soon, it was all consumed, and after contenting herself with licking up the blood off of the stone, she looked up to see him rotate the stick one more time before looking at her.
"Done? Alrightieees-"
His manner of speech was weird. He drew out or mispronounced some words intentionally. Maybe it's just inflection she didn't understand yet? Either way, she noticed she ate what was edible of the entire fish. He didn't eat any other than that tiny taste test.
She wasn't full, but she was content, and she felt a weird mixture of guilt and gratitude after realizing he ensured she ate first. That was kindness usually reserved for children.
She paused in her line of thinking, but didn't believe he thought of her as his child. Then what was the reason?
Whatever it was, she rubbed up against his leg and curled back into a ball in response, drawing her tails up and over her legs. She rested her head on paws, and didn't have to wait more than half a minute for a hand to reach down and start rubbing over her belly.
Relaxing into his touch easily, she felt herself drift off into a comfortable half-slumber, thinking thoughts of mom and this human and if mom would like him.
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His steel claw was called a "knife", as it turned out, and it was more durable and sharper than all but the most deadly steel types. He was comfortable with it, as well, far more than what she'd expect of a being using a weapon that wasn't physically part of them.
Where he seemed to shine, however, was the handling of his rifle. She poked his thoughts every time he picked up the rifle, and none of them were ever about the rifle. Almost as if he didn't have to give it any further consideration. That it was a given that it was in his hands.
Seeing him now, however, laid prone with the rifle propped up on a log? She understood how humans conquered the wild in the first place. His breathing was slow and methodical, his face close to the weapon- and all muscles still.
"Downrange", as he called it, was a particularly large Trumbeak perched on a tree, preening its feathers. Despite the human's tan coverings, they went unnoticed. He used the bushes well to his advantage.
She laid next to him, serving as his "spotter". She suspected the human simply spoke to her and explained concepts because he felt awkward walking in silence. She didn't understand how she could relay information to him, and he didn't seem to notice paying more attention to him and what he was doing.
A couple heartbeats later, however, and Vulpix watched as he pulled his finger from on top of the boxy port that accepted the rectangles to the circle with a crescent behind it. He seemed to still even further, somehow, breathing drawing longer.
So she turned her head towards the Trombeak. And then she flinched as the weapon beside her screamed. Before she could turn around and look at it, and the human, she witnessed something invisible pierce the Trombeak's throat, and she was stuck watching, mystified, as it tried to grasp at the wound before falling out of the tree and landing in a slump.
The human smiled widely but didn't say anything, reaching over and picking up something that was embedded in the dirt to his right. He gasped in pain, it seemed like, as he stuffed it into a pocket. He brought his fingers up to his mouth and sucked on them, all the while striding forward with his tall and powerful legs.
She, stunned, slowly rose to her feet, watching passively as the human reached down and picked up the bird by its chest and simply tucked it under an arm, the neck hanging limply.
That weapon had to be one of its kind. How was any Pokémon supposed to protect itself against that? She could see steel and rock types being able to, but what about regular Pokémon?
If that thing was widespread throughout the human populace, how was any land wild?
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Back at the cave, the human seemed much more excited about cooking the Trombeak. He skinned it and sliced up its meat diligently, grumbling about "thick skin helping" or something.
The human stilled when he came to the neck. He reached up, and plucked out something black covered in blood. He glanced at her, before frowning and tossing the piece of whatever into the fire pit.
He didn't clarify, but seemed a lot less excited now, and it bugged her. So, she poked at his mind, saw war, thick, alien, home, miss and sighed. Was he just reminded of where he came from?
Or…what was war? Vulpix felt overwhelmed. There was a lot that happened over the past week to shake her understanding of humans. So she defaulted to curling up against a wall and watching the cave, trying her hardest nor to be consumed by her thoughts.
She only got up to pad closer to him when he set a stone with two large pieces of white meat to her. She looked at him, wondering if he fed all of it to her, before seeing him place two fresh pieces of meat on a different stone and then place that on the fire..or propped up against something? She wasn't paying attention.
Either way, she tentatively reached out and bit a piece off, then dug in with ferocity. Meat was a delicacy, especially to one as small as her that couldn't hunt yet. The human likely didn't know how impactful it was that he considered her in everything he did.
Forgoing those thoughts to finish her meal, she decided to stop acting afraid or displeased with him and curled up behind him, pressed against his back, head on her paws facing outwards.
He laughed softly, and her ears tilted backwards.
"Is that so? Sorry about today, anyways. I just shouldn't have brought you along."
Mulling over it, she decided that it was an awakening that he did, and she couldn't imagine being in the dark now. So she rose, nipped at his pant legs to get his eyes on her, then shook her head.
Placing her chin on his leg briefly, she looked up into those eternally expressive emerald eyes that hid nothing, and closed her as he gave a couple head scratches. She moved back to her spot though, laying back down and waiting for the human to be done with what he was doing.
She'd go with him, she decided, whenever he went hunting. Or anywhere, really. She didn't realize how lonely she was until he came around, and she knew he wasn't acting with his emotions.
The weapon she may be afraid of, the human race as a whole, but this human was a kind and compassionate being. Hunting could be seen as cruel, but it was the circle of life. How could she berate him for hunting a Trumbeak when her mom hunted Gunshoo and Lechonks?
After he was finished, as was his custom, he cleaned up the area then gathered whatever clothes he had dirtied throughout the day then departed for the stream. Disgruntled, as she was comfortable, she rose and ran after him.
She imagined she'd struggle to keep up with his walking speed if she walked on two limbs like him, but she was a graceful and swift being, so any brush, roots, or other obstacles were cleanly weaved through.
She waited patiently as he rinsed his hands, garbs, and knife, listening amusedly as he bitterly mumbled about "soap". The human was a clean freak, wasn't he?
Staring at the water, then at herself, she frowned and thought that maybe she needed to bathe, too. And so she slunk into the water, shivering at the temperature.
It was cold, and as a fire type she didn't like the cold or the water. Yet, she was dirty, so she'd grit through it. She slunk, then twisted a couple times, then pushed her head around underwater for a few moments.
One soaked, she decided enough was enough and moved onto the bank. Conscious of the human to her right and embarrassed, she purposely didn't look at him and moved away before shaking her coat.
She then concentrated at the core in her being, drawing out the heat and letting it infuse into her body. She had to push herself to do so, but decided she needed to grow somehow- and as the water slowly evaporated and a heatwave formed around her, she held a satisfied smile as she maintained it.
Soon she was just a little damn, which would air dry by the time she got back. Panting, she slunk onto her stomach in exhaustion. The human was saying something. She couldn't pay attention.
She felt herself get picked up, and she couldn't struggle to get out yet. But then she was cradled to his chest, and he felt warm, and she felt secure in a way she hasn't since curling into her mom's tails. So she let him carry her back to the cave, noticing blearily that he didn't take his rifle or knife with him.
He usually did. What was different?
Once she placed her next to the fire, on top of the straw and fern bed, she stopped thinking about that and let her exhaustion fill her mind.
Pushing herself like that took so much more out of her than she thought it would. What did she do wrong?
After an unknown amount of time, she felt a warm body return and slide beside her. She was jostled and moved, but was soon comfortably snuggled with the human. After a moment, she slipped into a dreamless sleep.
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Alrighties! For clarification, every update will be released with two chapters, one with Holloway's POV and one with Vulpix'. If you want me to release both in a single chapter, let me know.
If you like the story, or absolutely loath it, do let me know! Feedback really does help authors improve and write more stories.
Discord is as such:
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