𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐇𝐘𝐁𝐑𝐈𝐃 𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐄𝐀𝐋 | [Royal!Sycamore/Hybrid!Reader] | POKÉMON

V

𝐕
𝐩𝐨𝐯.: 𝐲/𝐧

The next days, wandering the halls, you find the castle in a great upstir. Knights and servants rush from one place to the other, carpets and curtains are being cleaned thoroughly, even the chandeliers are polished to perfection.

You watch with a deep frown as it's made sure everything shines brightly. Maybe as a way of hiding what shabby King really laid behind it all. Only after eavesdropping to some servants talking, do you deduce a big dance ball is scheduled in a week.

Seven days... and preparations are already starting? Sheesh, these people really have no other problems, do they?

During your wandering, you cross paths with the prince a few times. He's swarmed by people asking questions and only your fleeting gazes connect from across the hallways. You glare at him as his eyes meet yours, turning your head away and lifting your chin high.

Oh, you're mad at him alright.

𝐏𝐞𝐭.

The name doesn't sit right with you at all. You're not an animal to keep. And now that you realize this is all you are, you notice how true it is. Fed and provided for by the prince. The illusion of freedom and choice— and yet you're locked in here, not being allowed to leave or do as you want to. The King had opened your eyes— in the most pathetic way ever.

"Hey!"

You do not turn around, just keep a stubborn gaze ahead. This voice, you know who it is.

"Come on, wait up!"

Crossing your arms, you walk faster. And then—

"Y/n!"

The name you're supposed to listen to. Your new name. Another 'gift' of this family. Gift. Is it really though? Did you know that Gift means poison in German?

You halt in you tracks, waiting until he's besides you. He's poison too.

"Are you mad?"

And you begin walking again. He starts walking too, surprised by your speed.

"Alright— alright, I get it, you are—"

"Pet?" You hiss.

"I—"

"I'm a pet to you!"

"Oh please— it's just a simple word! That's not what I see you as! I've treated you much better than anyone else!"

"It's not just a simple word. And treating me like an actual being doesn't give you the right to control me," you bark up at him, "All this, it's just more proof that I'm anything but free. You may try convince me I am, but—" You shake your shackles. "No."

"What do you expect?" The prince asks, angrily. "You're a hybrid. You can't walk around like us. You can't ever be free."

Your eyes narrow. The meaning of his words settle on him, and his tense face relaxes a little. You halt, pressing a finger against his chest.

"You royal prick," you whisper silently.

"That's not what I meant,—" he begins to excuse himself, clearly ashamed.

"Why? You were thinking of it all the time. Weren't you?"

"I was not! You're twisting my words the way you like!"

"Does manipulating people run in the family?" You ask and begin walking again.

"Y/n, listen to me!"

"That's not my name."