swamp fire skunk

It was a pain being an early rout gym leader. It didn't matter that I used steel types. All someone needed was a fire type to beat me. I took it up with the pokemon league and made a proposition.

I asked if I could hold an event. I wouldn't use a specific type. A memorable experience for expert and novice trainers alike. I'd use a team of my favorite pokemon and battle anyone that challenged me regardless of badge count.

Luckily for me, Geeta of Paldea was a lax champion. She was okay with me doing it. When I got back to town, I got to work setting up the perfect team from my early years when I did the gym challenge.

When my gym's doors opened, I was greeted by a sea of trainers, all wanting to see what team I had set up for this affair.

I stood smiling as the first trainer approached, her dark completion complimenting her black ponytail with strains of green hair falling over her eye. She had a fire in her eye as she challenged me, "Gym leader Saber, I challenge you to a battle!"

"Of course, to who do I owe the honor?"

"I'm Nemona, a champion rank trainer!"

'This should be interesting.' The battle started with her sending out a Lycanroc with me sending out Tantrum, my Great tusk, as a counter. Tantrum's brick break beat it down effortlessly, but they did get a good Accelerock in before it did.

Nemona's next pokemon was a Goodra. I switched Tantrum for Slush, my Baxcailibur. I hoped an Ice beam would end it quick, but a Thunderbolt pushed Slush within an inch of her life. I wasn't expecting the electric-type move, but it wouldn't keep us down.

Her next mon was a Pawmot. Spark, my Rotom fan, soon stood in Slush's place. I could hear the roar of the crowd as we battled. It reminded me of Ryme's gym and how she let the crowd's cheers empower our pokemon. Nemona had Pawmot use close combat, but Spark was out of the way faster than you could blink. One air slash later, and Pawmot was down.

Orthworm was next on the chopping block. Shadow flare, my Houndoom, ended it with a flamethrower, simple as that. Her Dundunsparse was next. My Tinkaton, Sweety, squashed the overgrown worm with a Gigaton Hammer.

It was as easy as that. She was down to her last pokemon, and I hadn't lost one. All I could do was smile. By Arceus, it felt good to be a trainer again.

Yandere robots. That's a new one.

Glad you liked it. When I thought up Alice I was thinking pink girl with wings, I could see her making demonic Qupid puns, so Love struck.

And I have an idea for Agatha's villain name being something like bearicad.

And thank you for posting the promt. It was fun to write and read for.

I didn't mean for this to happen. Why is this happening? You thought to yourself as you knelt, pushing rubble aside till you found her. You looked at the crumpled body of Love Struck. Her pink skin blemished with cuts and scrapes, and her wings tattered and torn. The occasional grunts and raspy breaths were the only things telling you she was still alive.

Without thinking, you picked up her limp body. Forming a forcefield around the two of you, you made your way through the collapsing buildings. You soon made it to your get-away vehicle, a large cargo plane. As you say one of your henchmen opening the hanger door, you shout, "MEDIC, I NEED A MEDIC!"

When you get to the plane and got Love Struck strapped into a stretcher as one of your henchmen tries to disinfect the bulk of her injuries. As you sat down, you finally let yourself 'look' at her and her condition. You cringe at how 'wrong' she looks, her breathing ragged and uneven, her legs bent at odd angles.

How did this happen?! You thought to yourself. It had been an ordinary day, you had a few hostages and a bomb you were never planning to use, but it went off anyway. The building started to come down around you as you threw up a shield to save yourself from the debris. And now you were here with Love Struck lying unconscious as you flew to your hideout.
When you landed, you rushed Love Struck to the medical wing, the pink-skinned heroine groaning with the motions. You got one of your best scientists to work on her injuries. Her wings would never truly heal, but they did what they could to stabilize her breathing and straighten and cast her legs.

It wasn't long before she awoke. As you looked through the glass in her room/cell you saw a shell of the hero you knew. You saw someone that didn't understand why they were restrained to a hospital bed and didn't care.

You learned her name when she was unconscious. Her name's Alice. When you finally faced her, curiosity was in her gaze as she said, "Hi, I'm Alice. Who are you?" You looked down as your fears were realized. She doesn't remember me. You knew it was a possibility, but you had hoped beyond hope that it wouldn't happen. "I'm Agatha, and I'm here to help you."
She gave you a sad smile as she said, "Ok, Is this for my skin or my wings?"

"What!" You hadn't even realized you had said that out loud until Alice gave you a confused look. "NO! Why would we be trying to 'fix' that?! No, you had an accident. I'm going to help you heal."

Over the next few months, you learned about how as a girl Alice had been sent to multiple doctors to try and 'fix' her. and with each story, you grew more and more sorry for what you did to her she had had a life where her powers were idolized and now she didn't remember any of that.

But you were going to make it right you would give her the life she deserved, one of love and safety. Sure, she whined at first when she could wake again, and you wouldn't let her leave, but she learned it was pointless to resist. She got everything she asked for anyway. What did she need from the outside that Agatha couldn't get for her? You were all she needed.

The uniform lights buzzed overhead, the only noise in the room being the quiet snickers of the people at the table. Except for two, they had scaled skin and slitted lizard-like pupils. One was noticeably older than the other, with a bushy red beard and large stature.

The man stood up, his clawed hands slamming onto the table, "What, may I ask, is so funny?" The laughter began to quiet as they looked to each other. After a minute, a woman stood to meet him.

Her long curly, snow white hair pooled on the table as she leaned closer to the scaled man, "Please, Salamander, what did you expect with such ridiculous things in your hair? You couldn't have expected us to take you seriously, could you?" Salamander's face twisted into a snarl, with the woman's blue-painted lips shifting into a mocking smile,

"Hailscape, could you please not antagonize my father?" The two adults looked to the scaled boy, his claws tapping on the glass table.

Hailscapes smile fell into a disappointed frown as she looked to the boy, "Well, if you father had taught your sister how to use color correctly, then maybe I would be less inclined, Spitfire."

Spitfire rose from his chair, his large scaled wings unfurling from his back. A hate-filled glare thrown to Hailscape as Spitfire's body engulfed itself in flames. "OH, THAT'S RICH COMING FROM YOU! Hey, Hainscape, wheres your son? Oh, that's right, he's stuck in penance pillar because YOU sent him to rob one of the most well-protected banks in the country! And now he's paying for YOUR bad decision!"

As Spitfire finished the hearty laghter of salamander filled the room. The larger man walked over to Spitfire, patting the boy on the back, "I couldn't have said it better myself, son."

Salamander looked around the room locking eyes with everyone there, "If any of you have a problem with my daughter's passion then you all have failed as parents."

The Inferno: The boy of fire and scale

I couldn't help it. I was crying as my grandfather yelled at my would-be principal. "So what if shes' 'different'?! She has every right to go here!"

"I'm sorry, sir, but that doesn't change the fact that this is an all-human school. Someone as dangerous as a werewolf can not be allowed to be in the same school as humans." Was the response from the principal, an older woman with graying hair and a look of disgust on her face.

I could imagine my brother's response, 'It's brain-dead shitstains like you that are ruining this country with your backward policy!' But he wasn't here.

I watched as my grandfather's face twisted into his own disgusted look. "You would dare say, my granddaughter, is DANGEROUS!" His voice rose and began to echo around the room on the word. "She's known how to control her transformation for years. She wouldn't hurt a fly!"

The principal didn't seem to care as her face grew sourer with each word, "Sir, That does change the fact that she is not allowed to attend this school!"

"Oh, she'll attend, alright, just you wait." My grandfather turned his back to her as he said, "Come on, we're going home."

My grandmother helped me up as we left. I couldn't stop crying. I cried through the whole argument, and the tears just wouldn't stop.

I didn't know what my grandparents had to go through, but I was allowed to attend from 3ed grade onwards. Now I'm starting high school. In a new school where no one knows me.

I walked into the classroom, watching as everyone looked at me, I could feel my ears twitch. This only made more eyes turn to me as the teacher said, "As you all can see, this is Sara. The werewolf that I'm sure all over you have heard about. Please, be nice.

The teacher motioned for me to sit down. As I made my way to an empty seat, I was stopped by another girl with long blond hair framing the gigantic smile on her face. "Sorry if this is a weird question, but could I pet you?"

Taken aback a bit I stuttered, "Yea, it's fine, I guess."

She began to rub my head, a giddy giggle escaping her lips as she said, "So it's true! Werewolf hair is softer than human."

The teacher chuckled as they said, "Sofia, please leave Sara alone you can test your theories with her later."

As we both made our way to our seats, I had some peace of mind, 'well, seems like I at least have a new friend.'