If rape and shit offends you, do NOT read this. There isn't anything bad in this first chapter, but I do plan to write porn later.
Harmoniashipping, since I just got into it. Hooray and things.
There was no telling what time it was. It could've been night, it could've been morning. He couldn't tell without a window. The only light came from a little lamp in the corner, casting shadows over the toys that littered the ground. Trains, toy trucks, a basketball, various pokemon plushes, it was a child's paradise upon first glance.
N sat in a corner by the lamp, wishing it were brighter, but knowing this was as good as it was going to get. Absentmindedly, he played with a truck. Even with all of the toys he had, he still found it was easy to get bored, which made him anxious. He could only play basketball by himself so many times, run around with a toy airplane and pretend he was on a secret mission so many times, trip and fall over stray toys he'd forgotten to pick up so many times before everything seemed like clockwork. Sure, he could pretend he was in the sky. The clouds on his floor made it easy to pretend he was flying. Smiling a little, he ran the truck over a cloud, making a small vroom noise through his teeth. Who was to say the truck couldn't fly too? If airplanes could fly, he could pretend the truck could too. Maybe it was a super special truck on a secret mission to rescue someone trapped on a desert island. Maybe the truck could float in the water too, like his toy boats. What if a shark came up and attacked the floating truck? The truck was super, it had weapons on it, it could fight back.
The shark would swim off, and the truck would reach the desert island, N's bed, rescuing the pokemon plushes and swimming back to civilization with them. The mysterious truck had saved everyone.
The people back at home would be glad all of their pokemon had returned safely to them. The truck, whose pilot was N, would be a hero. He had saved everyone.
Picking up a Snivy plush, N abandoned his truck for the other toy, huddling back into the corner next to the lamp, with a blanket wrapped around him and the toy. The toys were his friends, and they were all nice to him, because he was nice to them. He loved them, and they loved him. They were all he had in this big room full of toys with no window and only a lamp lighting everything.
It was N's world.
It's what his daddy said he needed. This was the way things had to be, in order for N to 'understand', like his daddy would say. He would come in sometimes, and give him another toy, and N would be delighted, because it was another friend for him to play with. His room would be lively then, it would be full of things, things that loved him because he loved them back. He would smile at his daddy, taking the toy, whether it was another pokemon plush, another train, or another box of blocks, it made him happy because his daddy loved him too. Bringing him toys meant he loved him, and N was happy to be loved. Very, very happy.
Then the door would close. Locked. The room would be dark again, except for his little lamp in the corner, casting shadows everywhere. N used to be afraid of the dark, but not anymore. Not with all of his toys to protect him from monsters. He could build walls with the blocks, build a house for himself, and stand in the middle with his Tepig and Snivy plushes. They were his bodyguards. They would protect him from monsters while he curled up in the center of the blocks, falling asleep.
Nobody would come in for a long time. He couldn't tell time, because there was no clock or window. It felt like forever to N. He liked it when his door opened to let some more light in, when the cool air from outside the hall would waft in. It made his room seem not so dark.
After what felt like forever, his door would open, a pretty lady with pink hair would walk in, and she would bring him food. She was very nice to him, even though she didn't smile, but he would smile back and thank her for the meal. It always felt like forever before he got to eat, but when he would talk about it, the pretty lady would shake her head and tell him it had only been a couple of hours.
When the food was gone, the plate was removed, then the pretty lady would leave. N would be alone again for a long time.
Sometimes N would cry. And he hated himself for it. Why cry? Didn't daddy give him all these friends so he wouldn't be alone? Wasn't he well-fed? Even when he had to potty, he had his own bathroom, and he got to bathe whenever he wanted to. Daddy always gave him shampoo that smelled like fruit. Still, when the trucks and planes and pokemon plushes no longer held his attention, he would grab his blanket and sink down into the corner next to the lamp and cry.
This was normal, wasn't it? Wasn't this what all little boys did? Didn't everyone's daddy give them lots of toys, and didn't pretty ladies come in to feed them and make sure they were healthy? The tears would not stop. Snivy and Tepig only stared at him with sewn in eyes. No sympathy or life. It made N sad. He would hug and hug onto his toys, loving them because they were his friends and he loved them! They never hugged back.
He wished he could tell time. And had a window. Seeing the trees would make him very happy. Walking and running around outside would make him even happier. And he could take Snivy and Tepig with him. They were his favorites after all. He knew there was an outside. It was a long time ago, but he remembered seeing it. The leaves were the same color as his hair, it smelled nice, it was big, and the sky was pretty.
Maybe the next time his daddy came in, he could ask him about it. It wouldn't hurt to ask, right? Especially since N had been such a good boy. Being in this room all the time, that had to mean he was a good boy.
Huddling into his blanket, N had to smile. What if daddy said yes? N would be very, very happy.
It felt like years to N before his door opened again and instead of it being the pretty pink-haired lady with food, his father strode in. N had been playing with blocks, this time building separate houses for Snivy and Tepig, but upon seeing his father enter, he almost knocked everything over as he struggled to stand up as fast as he could.
"Daddy!" Nothing could wipe the smile from his face when he ran up to him. His daddy was so tall, it always amazed him when he had to lean his head all the way back just to look at his face. Just like the pretty lady, his daddy never smiled, yet N always seemed to have smiles to spare. It didn't bother him that much. This was just the way everyone was. "Daddy, I've missed you." And it was the truth. When the door opened, light and cool air and comfort always came into his room. It made him happy.
His father never seemed as excited as he always was. Not responding, almost ignoring him, his father instead held out something small and quivering to him. "I've brought you something else. This is not a toy, though, N."
N could feel his eyes grow wide when his attention was brought to the quivering black ball of fur in his father's hands.
Curious when it was held down to him, N poked it, jumping back when a head emerged and made a sound he couldn't distinguish. "Daddy..."
"It's a pokemon, N. A real one. It's a Zorua."
"Zo-roo-ah?" Intrigued, he poked it again, not expecting it when the pokemon responded by hissing, lashing out and scratching his hand, jumping out of his father's hands and dashing under N's bed. Looking at his hand that was gushing blood in horror, N's initial reaction was to cry. He'd never been hurt before. And it hurt and it was bleeding and-
His daddy looked mad, not offering him any kind of comfort as N cradled his bleeding hand. "This will teach you about the world, N." And N was only half paying attention, still trying to stop crying. "People are cruel to pokemon like that. It hates you. Are you going to be like those people outside of this castle? Are you going to be cruel to pokemon too?"
The stinging was stopping, as were N's tears. He looked up at his daddy, trying to figure out what this all meant. It hated him? "N-no. I don't want to be mean to anyone." Sniffling, he wiped at his face with his clean hand, trying to get rid of the tears. "I want to be nice to everyone."
"That Zorua was hurt by its owner. We rescued it. It's suffering right now, N. I'm giving it to you so you can save it."
Save it? Turning back, all of N's tears dried when he spotted the Zorua under his bed, one of its ears sticking out from under his blanket. This was a real pokemon, a real one. Another friend, just like Snivy and Tepig, and it hated him.
Still focused on the hiding Zorua, N nodded to his father. "I want it to like me. I want to save it." He was smiling now. If he gave it time and was really nice to it, the Zorua would like him and they could be friends.
Just as his father began to walk back out the door and lock N in with the pokemon, N whirled around, suddenly remembering what he'd been dying to ask. "Daddy!" He almost tripped when he reached forward to grab his father's long robes. His father stopped walking. "Daddy, I forgot I wanted to ask you something." It was about to burst out of him, he had never been so anxious or excited before. "Can I go outside?"
And it was obvious that was the wrong thing to say.
Turning so fast, the robes were wrenched from N's grip, his father gave him a hard stare and N couldn't figure out the expression on his face. "Outside?"
Now N felt as if he had a huge weight pressed on his chest. Was daddy mad? "Y-yes sir."
The only sound then were the robes squishing when his father bent down to get face-level with him, one of his arms extending from the folds of his clothes and pressing against N's now hot face. "You mean to tell me I brought you a new friend, a real one this time, and you're so selfish as to ask me something like that?" His hand moved up and down his son's face.
N felt like his heart was going to burst out of his chest. "I-I-" Just the words were ripping at him, hurting like the scratch on his hand. Daddy was mad.
"I've given you everything, N. All of this shit in your room, all these god damn toys and you have everything. And now that I've given you more, you're still so selfish? You disgust me."
There were no more words as his daddy stood and walked out, slamming the door this time, making the pokemon under the bed squeak in fright.
N stood, his knees wobbly, and fresh tears fell, eyes never leaving the door. Everything felt like it hurt now. The scratches stung, his body ached, his head hurt, his eyes burned.
N had made daddy angry, and that made him a very bad boy.
I like to build up to things. I get more attached that way. Which means this is only going to get worse.