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Discussion in 'Fan Fiction' started by canisaries, Jun 9, 2018.

  1. canisaries

    canisaries *blocks your path*

    Hi Serebii! I'm finally posting my first multiparter on here. This is Seiren, a complete rewrite of Agápe, an older story which I'd say I consider my first "serious" one.

    If you don't know me, and you likely don't: I'm Canis, and I write Twitch Plays Pokémon fanfiction. Now before you click away and never ever return, I very much try to make my stories readable to non-TPP audiences, and I'm just as interested (if not more) in having people unfamiliar with the lore read and give their thoughts on my stories. To be fair, it's not like my universe is that attached to the common interpretations of the TPP fandom to begin with.

    And with that out of the way, a word on the content: The current rating of this fic is teen, but that may be subject to change. The story and its contents aren't 100% set in stone yet, so I can't say what might be featured in the future - however, I'll be sure to warn of any mature content in the post and I'll promise to come update this when it's needed. Until then, I can say that this story will at least contain strong language, violence and immoral actions. For context, the protagonist is kind of a serial killer, so... there. (Yeah, the same one featured in Vivarium, the oneshot I posted here a while ago! Although this story takes place way before that.)

    And with THAT out of the way, we can finally get started. This is Seiren. Any comments or reviews are greatly appreciated, and as I'm still relatively new on this forum, let me know if something needs to be changed. I know I haven't had time to review anyone else's works on here yet, but I'm intending to do so soon. Enjoy.



    S E I R E N

    Red isn't too happy about Helix's new celebrity crush. Therefore, action must be taken.


    9 June 2018




    I N D E X


    (you're here)


    (coming soon)




    The bell’s ring pierces the back of my skull.

    He needs something.

    I drop the book and flip over to look at the water tank. He stares back with His gray-yellow eyes, His tentacle still lying on the button, too tired to pull back again. My heartbeat surges. Is this it? Is it happening now?

    I bounce out of bed as quickly as any persian on its prey and shuffle to the tank. There’s delay even in the movement and focus of His eyes.

    “My lord, what do You need?” I ask. It could be just another false alarm, but an ominous cold resides in my core. It only grows stronger with each passing second and each new observation on how terrible He looks right now.

    A tip of one tentacle sluggishly rises, prompting me to dive my arms into the lukewarm water and lift up the elderly omastar. Splashes paint dark spots onto my shirt and the towels covering the floor. He breaks the surface, flattening as the upthrust of the fluid disappears. It happens every time, but… He just looks so miserable nowadays.

    “Red...” He rasps. I lean in, determined not to miss a single one of his words.


    “You know I’m coming back, right?”

    I unwind for just a second, chuckling. “Y-yes, I know. I just...”

    No, He’s right. I shouldn’t be this worried. He’s come back once, He’ll come back again. I know exactly how to get Him back and I’m absolutely positive it’ll work. Still...

    “And I’ll be young,” he continues, slit-pupiled eyes slowly blinking. “With much more energy... and I’ll be easier to carry around...”

    I sit back on the bed and lower Him onto my lap to give my arms a break. My jeans quickly soak up the water on His skin.

    What He’s saying is all true, but I… I don't know. He's going to have to grow up all over again, learn to speak, go to school… and I don't know which ones of His memories won't stick around this time. What if He forgets me entirely? What if He won't like me? What if --

    His tentacle rubs on my wet forearm, interrupting my worries. “I know I won't remember everything from this life, but I’m still going to be the same mon. And you’ll be the same person. My servant. That won’t ever change.”

    I sigh. “Thank You, my lord.” I’m not content, but to ease His mind, I’ll pretend.

    “Now…” He says, shifting on my lap, “now I would finally like to go to sleep.”

    I nod and lean forwards to get up, but He stops me with a groan.

    “Here,” he specifies.

    “Wouldn’t it be more comfortable in the water?”

    “I’ve had My whole life to be comfortable. You need Me now.”

    That’s the last push the tears in my ducts needed. They’re freed, as is my smile.

    “Goodnight, Red,” He wheezes and lets His rubbery body relax. His warty lids close, hiding the pale yellow.

    “Goodnight,” I whisper back.

    The silence brought by the conversation’s end is filled by the winds outside the window. I look over at the golden autumn view and stop to watch the swaying trees and grass, brown and yellow. The neighboring houses remain still, their hue only slightly altered by the evening sun.

    The mass on my lap slows in its breathing. My pulse receives another boost.

    A part of me, the naive part, urges me to initiate some kind of mollusk-adjusted CPR, but I suppress the need. It's time for Him to go and there'd be no benefit to prolonging His pain. Instead, as painful as it is, it's my job to be here and make sure He leaves in peace.

    The breaths grow weaker. The time between them stretches out - longer, longer, longer… until the next one finally fails to arrive.

    A jagged grip seizes my heart. I shakingly gasp for air. Another wave of hot tears emerges.

    It shouldn’t hurt like this. It shouldn’t hurt because He’s coming back, and it shouldn’t hurt for someone like me.

    It’s just one of those things I’ll never understand.


    The trees of Viridian Forest dash by as the train hums on. It's a shame this window is so smudgy - the autumn colors seem brilliant. Even the evergreens look majestic among their more vibrant deciduous peers.

    But I don't need to look out the window for a sight that warms my heart, do I? That's right. I have You.

    Two sparkling eyes stare back from the dark of my bag, their image wavering as the rumbling of the train and the bubbling powerhead quake the water’s surface.

    “You hungry?” I whisper. He continues staring, not yet understanding my language.

    I zip open another pouch of the bag and pull out a green plastic container. I pop it open to reveal the numerous leppa berries inside. He shuffles in place as I open His aquarium, unsure of what’s happening.

    “It's alright,” I say calmly. It seems to make His worries subside somewhat. The rest of His shyness melts away as I drop one of the red-yellow berries into the water and He realizes it's edible. His tentacles cover the fruit, He closes His eyes and begins nibbling away.

    The train slows down to a halt. The final jut wakes up the black-jacketed nidoking snoozing on the seat across from mine.

    “Home yet?” Fonz mumbles, blinking his squinted eyes.

    “Just a stop.”

    “Mhhh…” he sighs and lets his lids close again.

    I look back down at the aquarium. The omanyte has lain down on the side of His shell and is retreating inside. Looks like Fonz wasn't the only one who’s sleepy.

    Quietly, I snap shut the lid of the aquarium, return the leppas to their pouch and zip up the bag. May He have the privacy He deserves.

    It's funny. Currently, He must see me as the god in this relationship. Well, technically, the real god is in that other bag, but… I don’t want to think about that right now.

    The only thing that matters now is that He and I are finally together again. Things are right as they should be, and I won’t let anything, anything change that.

    Last edited: Jun 18, 2018 at 12:58 PM
  2. canisaries

    canisaries *blocks your path*

    Yo, back again with the first chapter. Rating still teen, some language here and there but the filter oughtta take care of em anyway. Alright, enjoy.




    I’ve walked to the school and timed it. I’ve walked back and timed it. I’ve repeated both three times to calculate the average and know just when to expect Them back. So where the hell are They?

    I crane my neck at the window, trying to find an angle where I could see even further down the snow-lined road. But it’s not like it even matters - this street is emptier than a slowpoke’s skull.

    I understand that people walk at different paces. I understand that lessons don’t always end exactly when scheduled. I understand people might get caught up talking to one another, but I can’t understand being an entire half an hour late.

    I glance at the kitchen table. The berry basket’s contents are still as vibrant as ever, but the fruit just look miserable, having to wait like that.

    Wait, I hear something! Steps! Could that be Them? The steps are heavy and seem like they come from a lone biped… that matches Fonz. It must be Them. I need to go! I need to see Him!

    I pull back from the window and dash to the door, not daring to waste any time putting on a coat. I twist the lock and throw open the door, grinning at the thought of finally seeing my lord again.

    The grin decays away as my stare only meets a bewildered golem.

    “You want somethin’?” asks the mon in a gruff voice.

    Yes, for you not to give me false hope… I let out a tch and close the door.

    “Humans...” sounds a muffled scoff from behind it.

    Sighing, I make my way back to the kitchen. The golem notices me and gives one last annoyed gaze before walking out of frame.

    Alright. It’s possible I’m overreacting. People are late sometimes. It happens. It’s fine. It doesn’t mean anything happened to Him. Oh ****, what if something happened to Him? Did the weather get to Him despite all the scarves? Did Fonz get run over while holding Him? Did He get beat up by some bully so badly He had to be taken to the hospital? If so, I’m going to flay whoever --

    My train of thought stops as my fingers touch the hilt of my knife. ****. This is exactly why it’s Fonz taking Him to school and back and not me.

    Wait. Steps, I hear steps again. I peek out of the window. A purple mon is approaching. It has a warm wool-lined coat on and a ball of scarves held up by its claws. That's Fonz!

    I scramble to the door again and nearly fling it open, but stop. I’ll only let the cold air in, making it less comfortable for Him to be here. I still have to wait. But it's just a few seconds. A few seconds and I’ll see Him again.

    My arms cross themselves and my foot begins to tap the carpet. Just a little more, relax, but don't get too comfortable, you don't want Him to think you like it when He’s away, as if you found Him a burden or… the door, the door is opening! Smile! Smile, for ****’s sake!

    Fonz looks up from the door handle and flinches. “O-oh, hi,” he stutters. I guess he was caught by surprise.

    I nod and step back, allowing him to enter the hall and bring the scarf pile to view. There's no hole in it to see inside. Can He breathe? Of course He can, idiot, it's just loosely wrapped wool. But is He actually in there? Maybe Fonz actually lost Him and is trying to trick me? No, he wouldn’t do that. Or would he? Everyone has their price.

    “Why are you, uhh… looking at me like that?” asks Fonz. I become conscious of the scowl that's formed on my face and quickly revert it back to a smile.

    “Sorry, had something on my mind,” I brush it off and take half a second to think of a way to patch that mistake. “How's my lord?” Assuming He is with you… no, stop that.

    The nidoking grins in a strange way. Can't name what it is, but it certainly isn't from sincere joy. That's worrying…

    “Oh, He's great,” he says. “Had a good first day. Isn't that, uhh, right?” He nudges the bottom of the pile with a claw.

    “Hm?” sounds from the pile. A small sliver opens between two scarves, showing an eye glistening in the light of a smartphone. “Oh, here already. Hi, Red,” the omanyte within mumbles, and lets the sliver fall to a close again.

    Well, He’s there, but... that’s odd of Him. This morning, He seemed anxious when leaving for His first day of school, even hugging me… now I’m air to Him. Did something happen? I give Fonz a questioning gaze.

    “Yeah, He discovered, uhh, something interesting,” he explains and shuffles out of the hall. “You got food ready?”

    “Yes, here.” I gesture to the kitchen and give more space. Fonz carries Him to the table, next to the berries, and removes the scarves.

    The omanyte cringes at the flood of sudden light, but still keeps His focus on the phone’s screen. A thin, forked cord runs from the device to the inside of His shell. Earphones. A quick glance around His body shows all tentacles intact and no cracks in the shell. Nothing physical is off.

    Fonz taps His shell with his claw. When He looks up, somewhat annoyed, the nidoking smiles and pushes the berry basket closer.

    “Oh, thanks,” He replies, nabs an oran and begins nibbling it, eyes still locked to the screen.

    “What’s He watching?” I ask Fonz, slowly circling behind my lord. The screen’s image finally comes to view, but it only raises more questions.

    Bright colors, primarily pink and violet, flash in striped patterns as a big-eyed squid-like mon moves around in the foreground. Its mantle is pink, lined with a transparent coating and containing glowing markings that resemble a shining star. Its lower half quite strongly resembles an omanyte’s, only with the beak being pink instead of beige and it situated above the tentacles. In addition to the eight normal ones, two longer, glassy tentacles extend from right below the mantle. They sway along with the mon’s dancing, their posterior edges somewhat serrated.

    “Think it’s a pop star of some kind,” Fonz responds as he returns the scarves and his own coat to their place the hall. “Forgot her name, but apparently she’s all the rage now. With the girls of the class, anyway...”


    “What kind of mon is that?” I ask, trying to think through all the nature documentaries I’ve seen. “Is that even real?”

    “Pretty sure it is. She’s Unovan, but I’m not sure if the species is. Looks like a psychic type… or maybe that’s just the visuals.”

    And water type would make sense for a cephalopod… but not all mon are typed how you'd expect.

    The omanyte finishes His oran and swipes another. One of His arms briefly taps the table, I guess along to the beat. I lean to look at His face. His gaze is unchanging, like a mannequin’s. It’s like He's… hypnotized.

    The doorbell rings, snapping me back to reality - but unfortunately, not Him. Fonz goes to answer the door. Is it Abe there? I thought he said he would come home later today. But who else could it…

    Right as Fonz opens the lock, I remember.

    “Foooonz! How are you, my mon?” shouts a familiar pidgeot, excited to see his old teammate again.

    Right, Jess was supposed to come today. I totally forgot. If only things that disappear in your memory would disappear in real life, too.

    “Good to see you, Jess!” responds Fonz, though his tone is a bit forced. “Been well?”

    “As well as ever! Gettin’ paid, gettin’ laid and... actually, sorry, but could you let me in now? It's cold as jynx tits out here.”

    “Right, sure.” Fonz smiles and steps aside to let the bird hop out of the hall and into my view. Jess shakes a few excess snowflakes off himself, then pulls out a smartphone from the pouch attached to his leg. Using its dark screen as a mirror, he checks his red-and-gold crest and swipes the remaining white particles off with a feather. He grimaces as his gloved foot returns the phone to the pouch.

    I check on my lord. Still entranced.

    “Red! Yo! Miss your ace?” Jess shouts, forcing me to meet his golden eyes. They flick up and down. “I see you’re still working out! You look good, dude.”

    He flits to the table, paying minimal attention to things he might knock over with his well-groomed tail feathers. He offers the wrist of his wing to me for something I don’t figure out before he gives up - a fist bump.

    “Nice to see you too, Jess,” I greet, smiling, because I probably should.

    The bird nods and turns to the berry basket. “Whoa, you got this for me and everything?” he gushes, spreading his wings. “Aww, you didn’t need to do that… but thanks, bros!” He swipes a pecha, but stops to look at the omanyte next to him. “That’s Helix? What happened to Him?”

    “Reincarnation,” I answer flatly. You know He does that.

    “Really? When?”

    “Three months ago. He… His lifespan ran out.” I clench my teeth and hope Jess asks no further questions. I don’t want to be reminded, even if He is back now.

    “Huh… so, what’s He watching?” Jess leaps to His side of the table and twists his neck to see. His eyes open wide. “Is that...” He covers his beak with a wing, snorting. “Like, unironically?”

    “Uhhh...” I look at Fonz. He only shrugs.

    Jess clears his throat. “Eh, forget it. Listen, sorry to cut this short, but I gotta take care of a bunch of things on my computer,” he says, jumping to the floor. He hops to the staircase on his free foot but freezes at the base, his face losing its usual confidence. “It is still there, right?”

    “Yeah, we haven’t touched it,” assures Fonz. Jess, content again, thanks us and takes flight, his small room upstairs as destination.

    The kitchen falls quiet after the bird’s departure. Only some muffled, rhythmic noise leaks from my lord’s earphones. I don’t think He even noticed Jess coming and going.

    That’s it. I need to figure out what’s so special about what He’s watching.

    “Excuse me,” I say to Fonz and head to the stairs. “Make sure He eats enough.”

    He nods, and I climb the stairs. I walk to the door of Jess’s own sliver of the house and enter without caring to knock.

    His room is barely a room, it's more like a closet. It really only houses a white desk with a computer and a saddle-like chair meant for avian users of keyboards and mice. There’s a fake plastic tree with a branch Jess could sleep on, but usually he just crashes on the chair whenever he’s around.

    Jess, sitting in said chair, swivels to me. “You need somethin’?”

    I close the door and come to him. “You seem to know what my lord was watching.”

    “You don't? Right… I guess even normies have their normies.”


    Jess raises a wing. “Not important. So, that girl - that was Shirlee. She's, like, a rising pop star right now. Big with tweens and feminists, as they usually are. And total ****, as they usually are.”

    Uh-huh. “What kind of mon is she?”

    Jess smirks. “I’ve always liked how you don't care about political correctness.”

    What was politically incorrect about… nevermind. “Just tell me what she is.”

    Jess swivels back, clicks his mouse and taps the keyboard with his talons. When done, he turns the monitor to me. The screen shows an array of numerous images featuring the kind of mon I saw in the video. Some of the mon look wild, expressionlessly floating in an underwater abyss. Others are levitating among people in the streets, sometimes wearing a piece of clothing. There’s some noticeable variation in their colorations and light patterns.

    “She’s an inkay,” Jess explains. “A dark-psychic type from Kalos. They use those blinky things to communicate and defend themselves in the wild, and I guess in civilization they use them to look cute.”

    Dark…? “They don’t look dark.”

    Jess shrugs. “Nevertheless, everyone’s heralding Shirlee’s fame as a giant victory for inclusivity, given she’s a non-humanoid coldblood female mixed-type mon celeb. Personally, I don’t see anything special about her, as her music - if you can call it that - is just as poor as any other pop icon’s. Plus, I’m a non-humanoid mixed-type mon celeb too, and you don’t see anyone call me their squid queen. Not that I’d… want that.”

    Jess is not a celebrity - even I can tell that much - but pointing that out isn’t going to lead to anything good. I still need his help.

    “Why do you think my lord is so captivated by her?”

    “Beats me. He's not really in the demographic. Maybe He’s got a crush on her or something. They are both tentacled sea creatures.”

    My gut twists at the thought. “Crush? That's… no, that can't be right. He's never…”

    “We'll, He’s a new incarnation, isn't He?”

    “That's not how it works. He can't have a crush. He's not the type.”

    “Has He seen an inkay before?”

    I give Jess a stern look. He shrinks somewhat.

    “He doesn't have a crush,” I assert. “It must be something else about this… Shirlee, whatever her name was. What more do you know?”

    “Uhhh… not much off the top of my head, but we got the computer right here.”

    “Good. See if you can find anything.”

    “Well, that, or…” Jess shyly slides the keyboard towards me. “You could do it...”

    Oh. Well, I guess I should try to…

    I take a step forward, but my legs lock in place. The screen is… and the keyboard is… right there, right where they were those times… the colors of the interface, blue and white… typing in the letters, searching, while they s-scream, and t-tell me to stop and go on and it takes so long and they don't shut up and it hurts --

    “I-I can't.” I draw back and clutch my forehead, covering the sight of the… no, no more. I’m not doing it.

    I sigh and finally dare to look back at Jess. He looks half ashamed, half disappointed.

    “It's… fine, I’ll just do it,” he says quietly, pulls back the monitor and keyboard and types away.

    Knowing now that I don’t have to interact with the thing, my courage to approach the computer comes back.

    “Hmm, well…” says Jess, scrolling with the mouse wheel. “Looks like she’s touring Kanto this month. Wanna get Helix a ticket? He’d be sure to love it.”

    My glower clues him in on how that’s not a subject to joke about.

    “Well, anyway,” Jess continues, “I can’t find anything especially odd about her. Your best bet is probably to just ask Helix. I mean, He should know best.”

    “Hrmh.” I cross my arms, peek at the screen and by the results, determine that Jess must be right. I sigh and leave the room, closing the door behind me.

    I guess I have to catch Him between two videos, as I’d hate to interrupt Him. If He feels strongly enough about her, shoving myself in between might damage His bond with me, and I still very much need Him right now…

    I make my way downstairs, glance around for my lord and spot Him on the couch. Still holding that accursed phone, of course. The girl - Shirlee was her name, what a stupid name - is there again, but on a different background. Beige. She has a costume on. She's blinking her lights… are the lights what are affecting Him? I don't feel any different looking at them, but I’m not an omanyte...

    Figures. The moment I start to return to routine with Him and feel secure again, some hussy has to come along and tear Us apart… If only I could just get my hands on her and --

    Dammit. There they are again, my fingers on the knife. My heart pounding. I shouldn't be this way. This is bad. I should go cool off.

    Breathing tense, I enter the basement’s door and descend the stairs. At the end of the hallway, a bookcase awaits.

    I have to go there. I need the privacy. I need the silence.

    After double-checking no one else is coming, I draw out a worn, blue book from the shelf. I open it, pick up the key from the hollow inside and return the book to its place. I push aside the bookcase to reveal a door behind it, a door I unlock and enter. I drag the case back to its position by a hole its back. Finally, I close the door, lock it and pocket the key.

    Always such a hassle, but always such a payoff.

    I take a deep breath in the dark, ignoring the air’s stuffiness, savoring the cool silence. My silence. Here, I can do anything I want.

    I flick the light on. The white-tiled floor, gray walls and taupe shelves and cupboards appear, as still as ever. I like it. I like how nothing ever seems to change around here. Only I get older, and the jars in the cupboard to my right shift places and get more content… and even that’s only happened seven times so far.

    On the left, a door-sized dark wooden board leans on the back wall. It knows exactly what those seven times involved. It’s been durable, just as I built it to be, how HE wanted it.

    Yes… HE. HE who resides in the fossil propped up on the altar in this very room, the fossil I took to Pewter three months ago to create another life for Him. The fossil I found all those years ago in Mt Moon, the one that changed my life forever - for the better.

    I dare not turn my head and face HIM again. I don’t want to disturb HIM and I’m not ready for an eighth time yet, which HE would ask for and I would not be able to refuse. I’ll focus on that some other day. Right now, I have Him to worry about.

    I go to the right side of the room to meet my various knives in their various scabbards. Wonderful handiwork, especially the ones I’ve crafted myself. Maybe I should make another to get my mind off things.

    I do feel a lot calmer than I was just a minute ago upon my arrival. I’d say my problem is fixed for the moment, but I know I’m just going to go right back to being pissed off when I see Him with the inkay again. Hmh.

    Well… maybe it’s possible that this really isn’t as bad as it seems. Maybe He’ll have completely forgotten about her by tomorrow. Fads go by fast these days.

    So here’s my plan, then. Go to Him and ask those questions I need answers for while repressing any rage building up with thoughts of how glad I will be when He comes to His senses. If He doesn’t, at least I’ll have something to build on.

    Yeah, I think I’m done with this room for now. If things go well, I won’t need to return in quite a while.

    If not… I’ll worry about it then.


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