#it's sad to see there's even less of the pier than when I last came | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

robininthelabyrinth · 4 years

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Field Medicine - on ao3 or tumblr pt 1, pt 2, pt 3

Wei Wuxian had been spending much of his free time as of late at the Cloud Recesses – he could regularly be seen walking through their many paths with Lan Wangji always at his side – and Lan Xichen couldn’t be more pleased, except for when he thought about his bride-to-be that would soon be joining them there.

It would be sad to lose Lan Wangji’s company, he reflected, although he supposed that with them both being men and there being no expectation of children unless they opted to adopt a war orphan, it would be reasonable to request that they split their time between the Lotus Pier and the Cloud Recesses once they’d properly settled down. Still, Jiang Cheng clearly needed their help more than he did, at least in the beginning, as Lan Xichen still had his uncle and his elders to support him as sect leader while Jiang Cheng was doing it on his own – it would be entirely reasonable for him to request that the two of them start their lives together at the Lotus Pier, and Wei Wuxian would probably insist on it anyway.

Lan Xichen thought, however, that he would be able to make a plausible argument that the two of them should come to ground in the Cloud Recesses for a while once he and Jiang Yanli had children.

All they needed, really, was for Wei Wuxian to stop his insistence on demonic cultivation.

Lan Xichen really didn’t understand what the issue was. It had made sense to deviate from orthodoxy during the war – when fighting someone of Wen Ruohan’s power and forces of the magnitude of the Wen sect, they had needed every weapon they could find, and Wei Wuxian’s formidable intelligence and creativity had given them the edge that had made all the difference. But at the same time demonic cultivation was well known to be dangerous to the user as well: it affected the temperament, with its practitioners known to become arrogant, cruel, and selfish, uncaring of life or death of others, and more than that, it affected the body and soul, damaging them, risking not only this life but the next.

Why would Wei Wuxian persist in such an unwise course of action now that there was no need for it?

Lan Xichen had often wondered such a thing, but he had spoken to his sworn brothers on the subject (Lan Wangji was useless for such discussions, unsurprisingly) and both of them had been much less surprised than he. Nie Mingjue had spoken, haltingly, of how difficult it could be to open one’s hand and put down the saber after years and years of holding it too tightly – of how the war might end but the adrenaline remained, how the fear and caution that had served so well for years might no longer be necessary and yet the body remembered, the subconscious mind remembered. Jin Guangyao had spoken in turn of the allure of power to one who had once lacked it: the security of knowing there was no need to bow before others, no need to compromise oneself and yield, yield, yield – the difficulty in giving up that safety and placing it in the hands of others, of those who might not live up to the trust, how slow the process was to learn to rely on others in truth rather than merely on the surface.

He could understand that, and so understood that Wei Wuxian’s actions were not unreasonable – and yet, they remained a problem.

Lan Xichen knew that the subject had been often on Lan Wangji’s mind in recent days, troubling him, and there seemed to be no particular solution forthcoming. It was no wonder, given his feelings for the man that seemed so clearly evident to Lan Xichen that he wondered everyone wasn’t speaking of them.

Lan Xichen himself had initially been too occupied to give the matter much thought. He might have more people to rely upon than Jiang Cheng, but his home had been utterly destroyed as well, and there was much work to be done in rebuilding. Still, he’d been thinking on it more and more as of late.

After all, Wei Wuxian was no longer exclusively or even primarily Jiang Cheng’s problem – it had been one thing when he was refusing Lan Wangji’s company at every turn, when a relationship between him and Lan Wangji was nothing more than a dream or a possibility that simply wasn’t to be, when he was someone that Lan Wangji could acknowledge as having loved and lost in his youth without too much regret. But now that he was here. He had agreed to come to Gusu to negotiate his shijie’s marriage, and they were spending so much time together…

Wei Wuxian would be Lan Xichen’s brother-in-law, his soon-to-be bride’s little brother, and that meant that Lan Xichen had to think about him from that perspective as well. He had grown to love Jiang Yanli’s smile, and she smiled most of all when speaking of the two brothers that she loved so much, just as he smiled best when he spoke of Lan Wangji, or even of his two (sometimes difficult) sworn brothers.

Yes, Wei Wuxian was definitely Lan Xichen’s problem now.

He only wished that there were more that he could do.

“Zewu-jun! Zewu-jun!” several of his Lan sect disciples called, hurrying over, and their raised voices made him frown at once – causing excess noise is prohibited – whatever the cause, it must be urgent.

It was.

Wei Wuxian had burst into Jinlin Tower in a rage during a public meeting – had gotten into an argument with Jin Zixun and threatened him – he had killed several Jin sect retainers at the Qiongi Path and kidnapped the prisoners of war they had been guarding – he had retreated to the Yiling Burial Mounds and was threatening all who came near with the Tiger Seal –

Lan Xichen hurried to Jinlin Tower at once.

Jin Guangshan was holding court with his family at his side, railing at Wei Wuxian – how dangerous he was, how uncontrolled – and pointing out how he had for some time already been saying how inappropriate it was for such a powerful magic tool to end up in the hands of such an arrogant and impulsive young man. The others were there as well, Lan Xichen the last to arrive: Nie Mingjue scowling down at them all from his excessive height, Lan Wangji still as stone to conceal how upset he was, Jiang Cheng standing there with his face black and clenched fists trembling with anger, Jiang Yanli at his side with her lips pressed tightly together, equally distressed.

She looked at him, seeking comfort – seeking commiseration, since there was no comfort to be had.

After all, what could they do? Jin Guangshan was right. They had all been concerned about Wei Wuxian, his erratic behavior and dangerous demonic cultivation. They had been worried about what he might do now that there was no war in which to put his efforts, and now he had proven all of their fears wholly justified.

He had committed crimes, killed men. Even if they wanted to say something in his defense, what grounds did they have to speak?

Lan Xichen’s steps slowed, suddenly, the thought giving him sudden pause.

What grounds did they have to speak?

What grounds had his father to speak, when it had been his mother who had had blood on her hands? He had not condemned her, as he ought have; instead he married her and challenged all who knew of the matter to dare defy him – he had rested upon the power of his clan, the power of being a Great Sect, and he had protected her against the world, although it had in the end cost him everything.

Lan Wangji could not do the same, although Lan Xichen could see on his face that he wished he could – it was one thing for a man to claim a woman, to promise that he would act as her bond and keep her from further wrongdoing, but it would not be understood that way for a man. No man could restrict another to the courtyard, not unless they were being held as a prisoner, sentenced to their fate, and that was not the answer here: no one would believe that Lan Wangji’s intention was to save Wei Wuxian rather than exploit him, not when the man was as powerful as Wei Wuxian was. Even if the feelings were the same, the world’s understanding of the situation was simply too different.

No, Lan Wangji could not act. To join Wei Wuxian now would be to turn him from a single wrongdoer into the leader of a rebellion, hastening the cultivation world’s desire to crush him, and yet – to abandon him was surely unthinkable.

Feelings or no feelings, Lan Wangji was only a single man, unable to stand against the world. He had no ability to speak.

But Lan Xichen did.

“We will certainly take that under consideration, Sect Leader Jin,” he said, his words sliding in during the small break between words when Jin Guangshan paused to breathe. “Your wisdom and advice are greatly appreciated, as they always are. We will think carefully on your suggestion.”

Jin Guangshan turned to him in surprise, and he wasn’t alone – everyone was staring, not least of which was Jiang Cheng himself, clearly stunned by his interjection. Lan Xichen hated it, hated being the center of attention, but he had been brought up to be sect leader; no matter his preference in avoiding the spotlight, avoiding fights, avoiding unpleasantness, it was all irrelevant in the face of his duty.

He kept a pleasant smile on his face. Ignorance, he thought, was the best approach to permit all sides to save face – he did not wish to start a fight with Jin Guangshan if he could avoid it.

He might not be able to avoid it, but Lan Xichen loved his family too much to really care.

“Zewu-jun,” Jin Guangshan said, and Lan Xichen could see him gearing up to tell him that his not-yet-crystalized demands were not a suggestion, that they were necessary, that the Jin sect – as the victims – had rights to call upon.

Lan Xichen couldn’t let him speak, so he didn’t. “I appreciate the same for all of you,” he said, raising his voice just a little, and surveying the room full of sect leaders. “Your concern for our family matter does you all credit, and we will not forget it.”

“Family matter?” Sect Leader Qin scoffed, his eyebrows arched. “How can this be a family matter?”

“Wei Wuxian is soon to be my brother-in-law,” Lan Xichen said with a smile. “My sister’s shixiong, raised by her side – how can it be anything else? Jiang Wanyin, I will of course provide you with any assistance you require in uncovering exactly what has happened and in determining a punishment to suit.”

“This is not a private matter,” Jin Guangshan said. “My Jin sect retainers were killed by a corpse raised by Wei Wuxian –”

“The sects have always managed justice for their own in the first instance, with others interfering only if the punishment is insufficient. Surely that has not changed,” Nie Mingjue said, and oh, Lan Xichen loved his sworn brother so very much.

He might be stern and harsh at times, but he was loyal to those he loved beyond all reason; he was stepping up to defend the (possibly) indefensible on Lan Xichen’s word alone, standing shoulder-to-shoulder with him as they always had in battle, in battle and everywhere else. He had forgiven the false information that Lan Xichen had inadvertently passed along, and trusted him unreservedly once more.

“If my Nie sect cultivators do wrong, it is my obligation to carry out justice and my shame if I do not,” he continued. “Demonic cultivator or not, Wei Wuxian is the head disciple of Yunmeng Jiang. Who has the grounds to speak first and foremost to his punishment if not Jiang Wanyin?”

Jiang Cheng himself was still working his jaw, trying to say something and failing.

“No one is questioning the ancestral right of the sect leader to manage the sect, da-ge,” Jin Guangyao said, stepping in at once. “It is only that this is a difficult situation, you understand, given the nature of Wei Wuxian’s demonic powers – and, of course, that the Jiang sect is still rebuilding…”

“Which is why I volunteered my sect to help,” Lan Xichen said, glad for the opening that Jin Guangyao had given him even if he suspected it was inadvertent. He didn’t like being on the opposite side from Jin Guangyao, much less publicly, but he understood the necessity of it. His sworn brother could not go against his father’s wishes, and Lan Xichen had long ago learned the hard lesson dividing private and public interests. “We have many techniques designed for suppression of evil and many experts. Even if the Cloud Recesses was burned by the Wen sect –”

There, a not-so-subtle reminder that the prisoners of war that the Jin sect had been guarding had offended his sect more than the Jin, and that he was more entitled to demand punishment than they.

“– we were still able to preserve many of our magic tools and ancient books, and I have faith in our capability. And, naturally, as Wei Wuxian’s future brother-in-law, helping is what I should do.”

He shot Nie Mingjue a look.

“You may have any assistance you want from me and mine as well,” Nie Mingjue said, putting his hands behind his back, standing like the general he so recently was. “Am I not your sworn brother, Xichen? But if you and Jiang Wanyin do not adequately investigate the matter or fail impose a proper punishment that suits the crime, I will be the first to speak against you.”

And that quelled more than half the voices that had been about to raise protest. If some argument could be made that Jiang Wanyin was too weak towards his shixiong to properly punish him, then there was Lan Xichen behind him, and if he, too, was inclined by his temperament to be seduced into mercy when it was inappropriate, there was Nie Mingjue as well. Who would dare suggest that the righteous Chifeng-zun would not demand that justice be done?

We are three of the four remaining Great Sects, Lan Xichen realized, suddenly giddy with it. Between us, we have the loyalty of the majority of sects in the cultivation world, and the reputation to back it – who does not know how much we did in the Sunshot Campaign, Nie, Lan, and Jiang, even as the Jin sect held back and dithered?

When we stand together, who can tell us we are wrong?

Perhaps Jin Guangshan realized it, or perhaps it was Jin Guangyao who understood how close his father was to making a mistake, because he glanced his father’s way and stepped forward with a smile, echoing Nie Mingjue’s words of support, smoothly reminding the world that he, too, was one of Lan Xichen’s sworn brothers, and almost immediately afterwards it was Jin Zixuan who was speaking, offering the support of the Jin sect in whatever capacity was required.

Offering, not demanding.

Lan Xichen glanced at Lan Wangji, who was looking at him with the sort of admiration that he thought they had left behind in their childhood – his eyes were positively glassy with relief and thankfulness. When he looked over to the Jiang sect he saw that they were just the same, and actually on that note it was time to quickly bring this scene to an end before someone (possibly Jiang Cheng himself) burst into tears.

He said a few words, indicating that they would leave to prepare to initiate the investigation at once, and soon enough the bustle of sect leader voices rising up in commentary began to drown out anything Jin Guangshan might have said. Lan Xichen could safely begin to make his way out.

Jin Zixuan managed to find him before he escaped the crowd. “Good luck,” he said, and glanced over to where the Jiang sect stood – Jiang Cheng responding to questions with non-answers and assurances that promised nothing while Jiang Yanli stood by his shoulder, his stalwart support. “She deserves someone like you.”

There was some wistfulness in his eyes, the perhaps belated realization of what prize he had let slip through his fingers, but although Lan Xichen was a kind man, he was not so kind as to give up something he valued so dearly.

“Thank you,” he said, thinking to himself that Jin Zixuan was a good man underneath all the gilt and flash, and that the world would be notably improved once he took over the Jin sect. He would need to ask Jin Guangyao if there wasn’t any way that they could think of to shift more of the decision-making power in the Jin sect from the older generation to the younger sooner rather than later. “Your words of support were both timely and welcome.”

“It’s the least I could do,” Jin Zixuan said, and disappeared once again into the crowd.

It took some time to get away from them all, but finally Lan Xichen was alone, taking a deep breath to steady his nerves, and then soon enough there were the Jiang sect coming in through the door, Jiang Cheng and his sister, his Jiang Yanli who had held her tongue and the feelings Lan Xichen knew she must have felt, standing with perfect poise despite the unbearable provocation. The perfect person to be by his side in the future, helping him restore the restrained tranquility of the Cloud Recesses.

And she was perfect in this way, too: after the eyes of the crowd were no longer on her, she abandoned restraint for joy and threw herself into his arms, delighted and laughing and thankful, and he forget himself enough to kiss her. Which he did, very happily, until a quiet cough brought him back to awareness.

“We’ll find a way to fix this,” he said, looking up at where Jiang Cheng and Lan Wangji were standing side-by-side, both of them looking indulgently at the two of them. “We’ll find out what happened, why Wei Wuxian did what he did, and then we’ll start our new life off the right way. With life, not death, with our loved ones at our side.”

“Yes,” Lan Wangji said. “We will.”

“Yes,” Jiang Yanli said, and stood on her toes to press her lips to his again. “We will. Thank you, husband.”

Lan Xichen smiled.

#mdzs #lan xichen #jiang yanli #wei wuxian #lan wangji #jiang cheng #nie mingjue #jin guangyao #my fic #my fics #field medicine #I do not endorse feudal criminal law

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uas-fics · 3 years

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Chapter 1 - Chapter 2

Read on AO3

Title: How to Train A Champion and Keep Your Reputation Intact

Summary: Piers doesn’t want to coach Leon, but the last thing Piers needs is for everyone to know a cool punk like him used to perform in Pokemon Contests! If it means keeping his reputation intact, he’ll begrudgingly teach this ray of sunlight what he knows.

Fandom: Pokemon Sword and Shield

Ships: LeonxPiers | dnnz

Rating: T

Contest Warnings: N/A

Chapter 1: The Early Morning Visitor

----

Of the people Piers expected to be sitting across his kitchen table at eight in the morning, the former champion was not one of them. Leon wasn't even in the top ten, yet here he was, twiddling his thumbs behind a cup of tea with a peppy expression on his face.

Piers was barely a human being this early, yet Leon seemed to have the same energy as a particularly bushy-tailed skwovet.

"You have a nice kitchen," Leon commented, more to fill the silence than an actual compliment.

Piers glanced at the pile of take-out containers on the counter then the singular shoe that hadn't made it to his room with its partner the night before. His kitchen was nothing spectacular, and it didn't need to be. His home was a place to crash or bring a date, not some fancy townhouse. With only he and Marnie there, why should he bother fancying the place up?

"What do you want, Leon?" Piers took a sip of his tea.

Leon wrapped his fingers around his cup but didn't move to drink. If Leon would have preferred coffee, he could have said something before Piers poured him a cup. It'd be a waste to pour it down the drain.

"Well, it's a little silly, but I could use your help with something," Leon explained.

Piers narrowed his eyes.

Leon was the chairman of the Pokemon League. Piers gave his gym over to Marnie after the last Champion tournament. What could he want Piers to help with at this point? The only connection he had with the League was Marnie.

Unless...

"I swear if you're goin' to pull the same shit as Rose did and try to get me to make Marnie move the gym—"

"No, no, nothing like that!" Leon raised his hands, palms facing out. "It has nothing at all to do with Spikemuth or the gym."

"Then what does it have to do with?" Piers leaned back and crossed his arms.

"Uh, well, alright," Leon didn't meet his eyes, "it's about a rumor."

Piers' frown deepened. He always had rumors about him floating about. It came with his persona.

"I heard Piers beat a man to a pulp because he spilled his drink on him." or "I heard Piers took three girls back to his home and made them leave before the sun was even up." or he was a dealer of rare hallucinogenic flowers or that he used his pokemon to break into Rose's office and peed in a potted plant behind his desk.

There was rarely any truth to the rumors. He didn't care to squash them. He was a dark-type trainer, having everyone thinking he was a bigger badass than he already was could not hurt his reputation.

"C'mon, mate, aren't you a little old to be listenin' to rumors?" Piers cocked an eyebrow.

"It's not a bad rumor.”

"What's the rumor then?"

"Ah, well, I heard," He paused to clear his throat, "that you, ah, that you competed in pokemon contests when you were younger—and that you won."

Piers barely kept his face deadpan.

Where had Leon heard that? Those contests happened just before posting on the internet boomed, so it wasn't like the contests were live-streamed and archived. The only video that he knew existed of his contest days hid in a box in the back of a closet. Marnie captured it when she could barely see over the railings at the stadiums. Even then, the video quality was terrible and Marnie kept moving the camera around. He looked like a black and white blob in them.

He forced himself to calm down. He could easily deny this rumor. No one would believe he, Piers, former Spikemuth gym leader, head of Team Yell, the fierce trainer of powerful dark-types, would ever compete in a pokemon contest.

"Where did you hear that?" Piers reached for his tea just to have something in his hands.

What credibility did this rumor spreader have? Probably none. Denying this would be easy.

"Oh, I heard your sister mention it."

Piers nearly dropped his cup.

Shit.

He could not deny this, not without putting Marnie's credibility on the line. She was still a new gym leader. The last thing she needed was the chairman thinking she was a gossip.

He hissed out a breath. "Oh, did she?"

"Yeah, she was talking to Opal while Bede filled out some papers," Leon told him. "She said she remembered you used to be good at pokemon contests. That's why I'm here."

"So what?" Piers spat. "It isn't illegal, now is it?"

Why couldn't this have been about Malamar scaring passers-by on Route 7 when he was bored? Why could this have been about the rave Piers helped throw in an abandoned mine last month? Why could it have been about pissing in the potted plant? Why couldn't this have been about anything else?!

Leon frowned. "Of course not—"

"Then why are you askin' me about it?"

"Because I wanted your help to win one."

Piers' mouth gaped. Did he hear that right? Leon, the former champion, one of the strongest pokemon trainers in all of Galar, wanted to enter a pokemon contest.

He stuck a finger in his ear and twisted it.

"Sorry, say that again. I must have somethin' in my ear. I didn't just hear you ask for help in a pokemon contest."

"That is what I asked." Leon beamed. "There is one in Ballonlea in two weeks and I want to enter, but I don't know the first thing about them. If you know, you could help me—if you want to, that is."

"Why?" Piers held back from pinching himself. How was this not a dream? Maybe he was messing with hallucinogenic flowers after all.

Reaching into his pocket, Leon took out a folded piece of lavender paper. He laid it flat on the table, smoothing it with the side of his hand, before pushing it over. The faint scent of roses wafted from it.

"All are invited to the first Bellonlea Pokemon Contest!" It read in a flowing, elegant font. "Coordinators of all ages and skill levels are invited to the Bellonlea Stadium to participate in a Pokemon Contest. Please contact the Bellonlean Ladies' Society for more details and how to enter."

"Was this ‘ppose to explain somethin'?" Piers pushed the flyer back. "Why do you want to win a contest?"

"That prize, of course!" Leon took his phone from his pocket. He scrolled a moment then turned the screen to Piers.

A picture of a red and white hat with a black logo stared back. It honestly looked like something an overly-excited ten-year-old would win from a cereal box drawing.

"It's a hat." Piers peered over the top of the phone to look at the hat Leon already had on.

"It's not just a hat. It's a limited edition!" Leon pulled his phone back. "I had one when I was a little kid, but I lost it to an angry corvisquire. The first place in the beginner contest wins it."

"And you can't just, you know, buy one for yourself?" He rolled his hand. "I know you have sponsorships out your ass." Piers looked down pointedly at his Spikemuth Chamber of Commerce shirt for emphasis.

Leon shrugged. "What fun is that?"

Piers downed half his drink in one go. The burn on his throat reassured him he wasn't dreaming.

"Piers?" Leon leaned over the table, his face alight with a smile. "Can't I talk you into helping me out? Please? I promise to owe you one after this."

Piers groaned. What choice did he have? He couldn't deny it without hurting Marnie's reputation. Their reputation used to be the only valuable he and Marnie had to their names, besides each other. Lying to Leon to save his own skin was not an option.

"Yeah, yeah, alright." Piers raised his hands in defeat. "Fine. I'll do it, but," he held a finger up in Leon's face, "you have to swear on your life that you won't tell a soul about it. I don't need anyone thinkin’ I ever put any of my pokemon in a frilly suit or made them dance around like pretty ballerinas or some shit."

Leon nearly jumped across the table. He put his hands on Piers' shoulders and squeezed a little too hard.

"Thanks a million for this!" He hopped up. "Where should we train? I think I understand the rules, but maybe we should go over the rules first? Or outfit—"

"Tomorrow." Piers cut him off. "We'll start tomorrow."

Leon's face fell like a growlithe that just had his bone taken from him. Piers held his sad gaze. Marnie's morpoko did the same pout when she wanted something, and Piers knew better than to give in.

If Leon still wanted to learn how to be a coordinator, he had to prove himself first. A day would be enough time for Piers to think up obstacles to make Leon forget about the silly notion. Contests, despite the stereotype, were hard work. While beginner contests weren't all that complicated, Piers didn't mind sprinkling in some of the more difficult to grasp bits from the higher tiers. With any luck that would confuse Leon right out of the idea and out of Piers' life.

Leon took a breath. He pulled his hands from Piers and squared his shoulders.

"I'll meet you back here at eight sharp tomorrow and then we can get started."

"No. You'll meet me outside Spikemuth at noon."

"Oh, well, alright. It'll be a champ—" Leon caught himself from using his old catchphrase. "It'll be a fun time."

"That's one way to think of it," Piers muttered, feeling less and less enthused at the arrangement by the second.

----

True to his word, Leon stood outside the front gate of Spikemuth at noon on the dot. He perked up when he saw Piers and jumped in front of him.

"Good afternoon, Teacher Piers."

He winked.

Piers wrinkled his nose.

"Call me that again, and I'm callin' this off."

Leon laughed nervously. "Sorry." He whistled. "Sooooo, what should I learn first? How to use music? Or pose? I'm already pretty good at that."

"How about the rules?"

Piers waved him to follow down the road towards the Spikemuth Tunnel. People were less likely to eavesdrop on them if they walked.

"Alright, rules. I know there are two rounds, and each trainer uses only one pokemon."

"Coordinator," Piers corrected sharply.

He promised to teach, but he didn't promise to be entirely pleasant while doing it.

"Yeah. There are two rounds. The first round is the Performance Stage. You show off your pokemon's appeal with a choreographed set of moves. The judges will assign points based on how well the performance fits into particular categories."

Piers began to ramble on about the different move categories as if the contest in Bellonlea would be so complicated. Beginner contests weren't judged by the five categories individually like higher-ranked contests.

Back when Galar still had a contest circuit, the people in beginner contests were kids with weak pokemon that might only know two or three moves. A performance with a cool move first and a cute move next wouldn't be judged as harshly as the first rank contest would.

However, Leon didn't need to know that. If he thought that the category system was complicated and—in Piers' humble opinion—limited and stupid, maybe he would back out.

"And that's all there is to the appeals rules." Piers looked at Leon, expecting him to be confused and dejected at the long-winded explanation, but instead found him holding onto every word.

"Well, that doesn't seem too hard." He nodded. "It's just putting on a show in a time limit with your partner. Easy."

"We'll see how easy you think it is when you're doing it." Piers stood under a shade tree. "The next round is the harder one. It's the battle round."

"Battle? I thought contests were for show, not for fighting."

Piers cackled at the genuine confusion on Leon's face. Of course, he would think that. That silly stereotype about contests never seemed to die, did it? Coordinators didn't just train their pokemon to teach them new moves. Their partner had to be strong to last the battles against one another. Even though Piers was a gym leader when he did contests, he still struggled against the stronger opponents.

He idly grabbed a lower branch and bent it down. If he didn’t slouch, Piers was tall enough that he could just about reach into the pokemon nest a few branches up with relative ease.

"You would think that, wouldn't you?" He opened his hand.

The branch whipped up and hit the branch the nest was on. The skwovet in the nest jumped with a squeak. Its sudden movement knocked a sitrus berry over the side.

"In the second round, two coordinators battle to remove points from the opponent, usin' moves that fall into the contest categories." He snatched the sitrus berry out of the air.

The skwovet glared at Piers. Piers smirked at it before wiping the berry on his shirt. The pokemon chattered and hurried higher into the tree.

Leon frowned at Piers' interaction with the skwovet. Piers met his gaze, daring him to comment on it.

Leon cleared his throat. "That wasn't necessary."

"It was an accident."

Leon pursed his lips in doubt but didn't argue. Instead, he said, "So it's a battle, but it's an entertaining battle. I can do that."

Around a bite of berry, Piers shrugged, "It's a five-minute battle, but the point of the battle isn't to knock out your opponent with the first move. No one needs to faint. It's to show that your pokemon is better than theirs."

Piers half-expected Leon to go on about how no pokemon was better than another, instead, Leon stroked his chin in thought. Maybe Leon realized that a contest wouldn't be as fun as he thought and wanted to give up on the idea.

The branches above shook and the skwovet chattered. A leppa berry slammed into the ground near Piers' boot. The skwovet, arm loaded with unripe leppa berries, held up another. It threw it. Piers took a step to the side.

"Nice try," he mocked. The skwovet's fur bristled. It tossed down the rest of its armful and missed every time. With a huff, it stomped back towards its nest to rustle through its hoard.

"Alright. I think I can handle this," Leon said, moving into Piers' personal space and lifting his arm over Piers' head, "with your help."

Grinning, he stepped back then opened his fist to present an oran berry. The skwovet cried out in frustration. Piers rubbed the top of his head. He glanced up at the wild pokemon once more before walking away from the tree, with Leon in tow. It was best not to test his luck anymore. The skwovet might use a move on him and the last thing he wanted was to spend the night picking slobbery bullet seeds out of his hair.

The skwovet angrily chattered but seemed to give up. It hurried down the tree to gather its berries. Leon crouched to roll the oran berry over. The skwovet eyed him but snatched the berry up to shove into its cheeks anyway.

Piers raised an eyebrow. Maybe this training wouldn't be as bad as he thought.

----

The training area outside Spikemuth wasn't much, just a patch of barren earth that trainers from Spikemuth would come to battle when they didn't feel like using the gym. Currently, the only souls there were Piers and Leon. Since Marnie took over as gym leader, the younger trainers of the city moved their training back to the gym.

"They didn't want to come when you were the gym leader. They think you're scary," Marnie had explained. "Dunno why though. You're about as scary as a teddisuara."

Piers crossed his arms. "Do you know which pokemon you're goin' use? These are Hoenn rules, so you can only use one."

Leon tapped the pokeballs at his belt. "I'm not sure. I didn't think I could go in with Charizard, so I didn't bring him with me."

"Why not Charizard?"

"Everyone knows what my Charizard looks like," Leon explained. "And I don't think I can pretend not to be me if I use him."

Piers' brows furrowed. What in the world was he talking about?

Upon seeing Piers' expression, Leon chuckled to himself.

"I guess I forgot to tell you." He put his hands on his hips and set his feet a shoulder-width apart. "I'm going to do this contest in disguise."

The hope Piers just acquired vanished.

"You're what?"

"I'm going in disguise," He repeated. "I was the champion, and now I'm chairman. That would give me an unfair advantage, don't you think?"

Piers pinched the bridge of his nose. Of course, Leon would want to win on a level playing field. The Bellonean Ladies' Society would probably just give him the stupid hat if he promised to simply show up and bring more attention to the event. If he did that, Piers could have stayed at home and lazed about, but, noooo, Leon had to win his silly hat fair and square.

"How do you plan to do that?"

"Well, I hoped you could help me with that, too." Leon pointed to his face. "I've seen your stage makeup, and you're talented. I bet you could make me look like a different person."

Piers hated that he couldn't argue with that. Not long after he decided to follow his dream of being a punk star, one of the gym trainers offered to teach him the basics of cosmetics. Once he had the basics down, it only took a year of using his pokemon, friends, and Marnie as test subjects for him to perfect his art.

He could easily make Leon's face look different enough: soften his cheekbones, maybe a few freckles, pull his bangs back, color contacts, and glasses...Leon would look good in glasses, even if it meant hiding his natural eye color...

Piers shook his head. He hadn't agreed to anything but training for the contest. He was not giving Leon a makeover like they were preteens at a slumber party.

Leon pursed his lips. "It would be pointless if I won because of who I am. That wouldn't be fair to the other train—coordinators."

"No. Figure that out yourself."

Leon sighed, his shoulders slumped. He muttered under his breath, something Piers couldn't make out. Finally, he straightened and shrugged.

"You know, I have to approve the budgets for each gym provided by the league," he lifted one finger and wagged it as he continued, "and wouldn't it be nice if Spikemuth got a little extra in their budget so their new gym leader could fix up her gym stadium? I know the Spikemuth Chamber of Commerce can't always give too much to the gym, and it needs a few repairs."

Piers' mouth fell a gape. Did Leon just try to bribe him through his sister? He had to admit, he was impressed. It wasn't the best bribery offer he'd ever been given, but considering whom the offer came from and what Marnie would get in return, he decided to give in.

"Make sure the gym gets enough to replace the crumplin’ stadium walls, and I'll do it." Piers stuck out his hand.

Leon took the offered hand in his and shook once. "I knew you'd have a change of heart."

Piers yanked his hand back. "Change of heart my ass. Just send out your pokemon."

With a nod, Leon let out each of his pokemon in turn: Aegislash, Haxorus, Dragapult, Mr. Rime, Seismatoad, then Rhyperior. True to his word, he hadn't brought his ace pokemon with him. Like a well-oiled machine, they quickly lined up and turned their full attention to their trainer.

Pride rolled off Leon as he gazed at his team. Up until last year, this team was undefeated. Leon kept them at their best and even Piers could call that admirable.

"Alright everyone, listen here." Leon clapped his hands as if any of them didn't have their eyes on him. "Remember how I said we were going to enter a contest? Well, only one of you can enter it with me."

Leon's Mr. Rime leaned on his cane and Aegislash shifted his shield, though the other pokemon didn't react one way or another to the news.

"Contests aren't like normal battling. They're a performance." Leon gestured to Piers. "Piers is going to help pick the best one of you for the contest."

Piers snorted. "Oh, didn't I tell you? I'm not assessin' your team."

Leon's hand dropped to his side. He tilted his head.

"You're not?"

"No."

Piers took out the only pokeball he had on him. With a flick of the wrist, he released his own contest partner. The stench of rotten eggs filled the air. Everyone but Piers jerked back to cover their noses.

Skuntank shook himself out. He stretched his front paws forward then pulled the rest of his body up like a cat in a sunbeam. Piers crouched down and patted his partner between the ears.

"Skuntank here won nearly every contest he entered," Piers explained. "He knows more about them than even I do, I'd say. Even keeps track of the Sinnoh contests online. If anyone can give this team a proper assessment, it'll be him."

Skuntank lifted his head proudly then stomped forward. He stalked up, down, and around the line, eyeing each pokemon. He stopped in front of Haxorus, narrowed his eyes, and rumbled. Haxorus shuffled nervously. She looked to her team members then back at Skuntank. Siesmatoad shrugged, and Dragapult looked away.

Satisfied, Skuntank trotted back to Piers. He took a breath and stated something to the pokemon, loud and clear.

The other pokemon were taken aback. They muttered amongst themselves, all except Mr. Rime and Aegislash. With his chest puffed out, Mr. Rime strode forward. A moment later, Aegislash floated next to him. The rest of the team remained still.

"That's the two to choose from," Piers said. To the other members of Leon's team, he continued, "You can go over there. Take a rest why don't you?" He jabbed his thumb towards the grass at the side of the training area.

Without missing a beat, Dragapult floated away, soon followed by Siesmatoad, Haxorus, and Rhyperior.

Leon gasped. "That's amazing. How does Skuntank know?"

It wasn't as if Skuntank could smell contest talent on Mr. Rime and Aegislash. It just so happened that when Skuntank asked, Mr. Rime and Aegislash wanted to enter a contest. The rest weren't interested.

Ignoring Leon's question, Piers asked, "How do you want to decide between these two."

Leon blinked. "Isn't that what Skuntank is here for?"

With a thump, Skuntank flopped to the ground, paws under his chin, and shut his eyes.

"He's filled his quota." Piers said. "This is your job, Mr. Chairman."

Leon stroked his chin. He crouched down between his pokemon. Mr. Rime tapped his feet and spun his cane. Leon lifted his eyebrows at the impromptu performance. Not to be outdone, Aegislash held his shield up and spun it on the end of his arm. He tossed the shield then expertly caught it.

Mr. Rime danced backward. He spun in a circle, holding his cane up to the sky. From the tip of the cane, snow flurried around him, glittering like tiny diamonds.

Aegislash, upon seeing Leon's dazzled expression at Mr. Rime's performance, clanged his shield and blade together. With his trainer's attention back on him, Aegislash whipped his arm out. The shield rolled out on its side into the middle of the battle area. In the blink of an eye, Aegislash descended into his shadow. Using shadow sleek, he hurried in front of the shield.

Aegislash burst from the ground, large and dark. He whipped the shield up. the sun glinted off the polished metal. Contrasted against Aegislash's dark form, the shining shield appeared like a bright star in the night sky.

Leon's mouth fell a gape. "Wow, I didn't know you could do that, Aegislash."

Aegislash returned to his normal appearance and smugly shurgged. Mr. Rime stomped his foot in frustration. He put his fingers to his mouth and whistled for Leon to look at him. Once again, his cane spun. Around him, aurous panes of light screen appeared then frosted over. Mr. Rime stopped and raised his arms. The light screen panes shot up and burst like fireworks.

Aegislash bristled. His grip on his shield tightened and his single eye narrowed. Mr. Rime sneered at him as Leon carefully picked up the frozen light screen fragments to examine.

Piers clapped his hands once. "Don't you lot make this a battle." To Leon, he ordered, "You need to pick one."

Leon stood. "But they're both really talented."

From behind them, Skuntank snorted. Aegislash and Mr. Rime turned their glares from each other to the dark-type.

Piers agreed with Leon, even if his pokemon didn't, but leaving those two to keep one-upping each other wouldn't end well. Leon had to pick a partner for the contest, even if it would hurt someone's feelings.

Leon thought on his choice then slumped forward with a sigh. He rummaged in his pocket and held up a coin.

"I can't decide," he admitted. "Heads for Mr. Rime and tails for Aegislash."

He flicked the coin into the air. Like the oran berry before, he caught it from the air. With a hard smack that made the top of Pier's hand hurt, Leon slapped it on the top of his hand. Aegislash and Mr. Rime stood tense as Leon slowly lifted his hand.

"Heads."

Mr. Rime jumped up with joy. Aegislash dropped his shield to the ground with a thud. Leon reached out to comfort him, but Aegislash waved him away. Dragging his shield through the dirt, he trudged towards the other pokemon.

Skuntank lumbered back to his feet. He intercepted Aegislash. Skuntank rumbled at Aegislash. He silently mulled over what Skuntank said then lifted his shield from the ground.

In a voice like clashing metal, Aegislash yelled at Mr. Rime. Mr. Rime stumbled in his tap dancing, looking shocked at what his teammate said. Skuntank cackled, slapping the ground with his paw. With his mood improved considerably, Aegislash led Skuntank away to join the other pokemon.

----

Mr. Rime was a showman. Even with the occasional heckle from Skuntank, he and Leon managed to cobble together the start of an alright appeal round. After Piers finally admitted that the move categories meant shit all for the beginner contests, Leon decided to make use of what Mr. Rime already presented: sparkling snow and unique uses of psychic power.

Piers, for his part, offered critique when he saw a move that might be too showy or too dull, but mostly left Leon to his own devices. After all, Leon was the one entering, not him.

A thunderbolt tore through an icy column, shattering it. A glow of psychic power protected some of the ice from the heat. When the mist cleared, what remained was the carving of the Champion's logo.

Leon pumped his fist. "There we go!"

Skuntank muttered something to Aegislash, who replied in agreement. Though he hadn't been as loud in his criticism as Skuntank, Aegislash made snide remarks for every misstep.

Piers had more fun watching Skuntank and Aegislash than Leon and Mr. Rime, honestly.

As the heat both from the thunderbolts and the day wore on, Piers was thankful he choose to sit under the shade instead of directly interact with Leon.

Though on the field, he would have had a better view.

Every time Leon raised his shirt to wipe the sweat from his brow, Piers turned his attention towards him. Rehain once mentioned Leon weight trained and exercised to stay as fit as his team, and Piers could tell. He stared at the well-formed muscles usually hidden under Leon’s shirt several times before finally being caught.

“Is something wrong? Is this too much?” Leon gestured to Mr. Rime’s newest ice sculpture.

Piers made up a suggestion to save himself the embarrassment.

“It’s fine, but you’re rushin’. Slow down, if you know how to do that,” Piers replied, turning his head to hide his pink cheeks against his shoulder.

“Oh, alright.” Leon nodded. “Mr. Rime, take a few more seconds before calling down the thunderbolt!”

Stuntank chuckled and Piers sent him a glare.

“Shut up,” he hissed, earning another laugh from Stuntank.

Something pulled at Piers' sleeve. One of Dragapult's dreepy chewed on his jacket. When Piers acknowledged it, it flew in a circle trying to get him to play with it. It went to nip at the end of one of his ponytails.

Dragapult sighed and wrapped his tail around the dreepy to pull it back. He gave Piers an apologetic look.

The rest of Leon's team wasn't doing much better. They were bored out of their minds.

Siesmatoad ripped a clump of grass from the ground and tossed it in her mouth. Rhyperior and Haxorus took turns stabbing leaves through their horns or tusks, seeing who could make the biggest hole without tearing the leaf in half.

Before Leon and Mr. Rime could start again, Piers called, "That's enough for today."

He stood and put his hands on his lower back to stretch. Skuntank grumbled but got to his paws.

"Well, if you say so." Leon came over to the crowd of pokemon with Mr. Rime. "Everyone ready?"

Seismatoad spat out the grass clump, nearly hitting Rhyperior's foot. Dragapult cooed and the rest of his dreepy hoard hurried out of the tall grass. Aegislash refused to look at Mr. Rime, instead of staying close to Stuntank. Haxorus bent forward and pressed the button on her pokeball with her mouth scythe, returning herself.

When Leon took out Aegislash's ball, Piers put a hand on his wrist.

"Before you return him, can I ask you a favor?"

Leon raised an eyebrow. "Yes?"

"Aegislash and Skuntank seem to be havin' fun together. Do you think Aegislash could come back with me for tonight?" Piers asked. Skuntank stamped a foot and wheezed in approval.

Leon lowered Aegislash's pokeball. He bent down so he looked Aegislash in his singular eye.

"Do you want to have a slumber party with Skuntank at Spikemuth?" He spoke like a parent to a child. Mr. Rime snickered. Stuntank kicked sand at him with a short growl.

Piers pulled the bill of Leon's hat down over his eyes.

"Aegislash is probably older than both of us combined," he reminded. "Don't call it a slumber party."

Leon pushed his hat up and wrinkled his brow. Realization crossed his face.

"Ah." He asked Aegislash, "Do you want to have a date with Skuntank at Spikemuth?"

Piers went to pull Leon's hat clean off, but Aegislash took hold of the bill and pulled until it completely covered Leon's face with the bill touching his chin. He rolled his eye and shrugged towards Skuntank. Skuntank snickered and shook his head back in reply.

Leon laughed, taking the hat into his lap. "I'm joking. I'm joking. Sorry." He put a hand on Aegislash's shoulder. "Really, if you want to hang out with Skuntank for the night, you can." He smiled sincerely.

Aegislash paused, eyed his trainer, then seemed to sigh. He took the hat from Leon's hands and set it on his head. He patted his head, like a parent pacifying a child. Aegislash floated by him towards Skuntank.

-----

“Listen up.”

Piers whistled to the crowd of dark-type pokemon around the Spikemuth stadium. All heads turned towards him and the two pokemon by his side.

“This is Aegislash. He’s part of Chairman Leon’s team.” Piers nodded to Aegislash. “He’s visitin' for the night, so don’t be an asshole.”

He sent a pointed look at Malamar, who crossed his tentacles. Malamar only recently got out of trouble for scaring people around Spikemuth. Neither he nor Marnie needed Aegislash going back to Leon traumatized from Malamar's pranks.

The gym pokemon muttered and mumbled to themselves, eyeing Aegislash suspiciously.

Going well so far.

No one jumped to attack or called out an obscenity towards the new pokemon. Already it was going better when Raihan brought his pokemon over to play while he and Piers visited. Not one sucker punch to the back.

Marnie’s Grimsnarl picked up the toy ball and held it protectively. Both scrafty scooted to shield their tower of cards. Obstagoon took his nose out of a bag of crisps for a moment before shoving it right back in. Liepard yawned, purposely exposing her fangs, before laying her head on Toxicroak’s lap. Toxitricity peeked an eye open from his corner then continued strumming his chest. Morpeko jumped off the stage and scurried over to Aegislash and Skuntank.

She greeted them. Skuntank wheezed to her as Aegislash lifted his shield in a hello. Morpeko spoke with Aegislash a moment before turning to the rest of the pokemon. She took a deep breath and shouted to them her approval.

Malamar snorted but uncrossed his tentacles. Grimsnarl slowly took the ball back out. Neither scrafty moved from their hard work. Toxitricity waved idly. Liepard and Toxicroak and Obstagoon didn’t acknowledge the announcement, the former two napping and the latter still stuffing his maw.

Skuntank jerked his head towards Toxitricity's corner of the gym. Aegislash and Morpeko followed after. Grimsnarl and Malamar watched them closely.

Marnie took a bite of her hamburger. Around it, she asked, “Is that really Leon’s aegislash?”

Piers open the bag from Bob’s Your Uncle to dig out his order. “He is. He and Leon’s Mr. Rime got into a fight, and Aegislash wanted to be away.”

“So Leon asked you?” She swallowed.

Piers thought on his feet. “Dark and ghost types are pretty close when you get down to it. Born of night and the deepness of the soul and all that.”

“Shouldn’t he have asked Allister?”

Piers took a bite of his burger and slowly chewed. He swallowed and said, “Kid must have been busy. He’s still got school to go— just like you.” Piers smirked, leaning over. “And how’s that school work going, little sis?”

Marnie blushed. She huffed, snatched the bag from Piers, then marched to the stage at the other end of the stadium.

Even being a gym leader, Marnie still had to go to school like every other kid her age. Since she was still learning to juggle gym leader duties and school, Marnie fell behind in her classes and had to take extra lessons.

Piers had been the same when he took over the gym, but he usually skipped after-school lessons. She complained about the lessons often, and Piers offered an understanding ear.

He wasn’t above using this information against her, though.

With long strides, he followed his sister. He overtook her quickly. Holding his burger between his teeth, Piers hopped onto the stage and sat, his toes brushing the ground. Marnie walked up the steps to sit near him. She purposefully set the bag with their food on the side farthest away from Piers. He leaned across her to fish his chips out of the bag.

They sat in companionable silence, watching the pokemon as they ate their fast food.

When Marnie’s scrafty turned to open another pack of cards for their tower, Malamar raised a tentacle glowing in psychic power. With both scrafty backs to it, a card from the middle of the tower pulled itself out.

Piers’ scrafty gasped and tried to hold the wobbling tower together, but only managed to save the top two cards from falling. As the scrafty started to argue, Grimsnarl went to the wooden crate next to the stage. She sat her ball inside and began to dig through the pokemon toys until she found another ball. This ball was worn and patched up. She wandered over to Malamar to talk.

Skuntank, Toxtricity, and Aegislash lounged against one of the crumbling stadium walls as Morpeko chewed on a berry. They made friendly conversation until Grimsnarl and Malamar came over. Grimsnarl raised her ball.

Skuntank shrugged and spoke to Aegislash. Malamar sneered at Aegislash. Aegislash rolled his eye and pushed himself up. Skuntank slowly lumbered to his feet. Toxtricity shook his head. Morpeko tossed her berry up and caught it in her mouth before standing as well.

Piers nudged Marnie and pointed at the pokemon as they walked to the middle of the stadium.

Grimsnarl tossed the ball and hit it to Skuntank. Skuntank bopped it with his head. The ball dropped towards Aegislash. Aegislash raised an arm to hit it, but Malamar’s tentacle shot out and smacked the ball up. Aegislash snapped something at Malamar, who ignored him.

Piers chuckled to himself as the game of hot potato continued. Every time the ball neared Aegislash, Malamar or Grimsnarl made sure to hit it before he could. Of course, they were testing him. Being on the former champion’s team wasn’t enough to prove Aegislash worthy, even with Stuntank and Morpeko's approval.

Soon Aegislash had enough. When Malamar went to hit the ball for himself, Aegislash shadow sleeked behind him. He burst from the ground and slapped the ball towards Grimsnarl. The attack on her friend took Grimsnarl by surprise. She stumbled back trying to hit the ball but missed. For the first time since the game started, the ball bounced against the floor.

Skuntank cackled. Morpeko chased after the ball. Malamar stared at Aegislash, who held his ground.

Marnie started to push off the stage to break up the fight, but Piers put a hand out to stop her.

After a few tense heartbeats, Malamar coughed a laugh. He covered his beak and shook his head. Grimsnarl took the ball back from Morpeko. Seeing the newfound respect for Aegislash from Malamar, she went back over to the box to switch the worn, old ball, for a nicer ball with a pink and cream polka-dot pattern.

Marnie let out a breath. Piers tossed a chip in his mouth.

He knew things would work out well. Like his trainer, Aegislash was endearing in his determination.

He wondered what Leon was doing while the Spikemuth pokemon played. As late as it was, he was probably home, or maybe he was training with Mr. Rime for the contest. Piers could almost see him now working with Mr. Rime to pose in time with some pop song.

Leon worked hard for what he wanted. It's no wonder he became champ so young and held the title for nearly a decade. If Piers had that kind of drive, he wouldn’t have left Spikemuth fall into disrepair as he did.

He bet he could ask Leon to help him fix up Spikemuth, and not just the gym. The outside walls needed the myriad of penises and breasts painted over. He could do it, but it would be better with some company, particularly with company that had the energy of a sugar-high puppy. Enjoying the outside air, just talking and working—That would be fun. Piers would be willing to wake up early for that.

Piers reached into his chip container absentmindedly but found nothing but salt. He jerked out of his thoughts to see his last two chips disappear—one into Morpeko’s mouth and one into Marnie’s.

“The hell?” He held his hands out towards the empty container.

“Do you have a new girlfriend?” She asked bluntly.

Piers choked on his tongue. “What?” He shook his head. “No! Why would you think that?”

“A boyfriend? A non-binary friend?”

“No,” Piers assured. “I don’t have anyone.”

“Huh.” Marnie scratched Morpeko behind the ears. “You had that look on your face.”

“Look?” Piers’ stomach clenched as he asked, “What look?”

“That look.” Marnie pulled her pokemon to her lap. “The one you get before Morpeko and me find some gushy love song folded up on the living room floor. It happens every time.”

Piers’ ears grew hot. Twice, Marnie found his secret love songs twice. For that reason, he didn’t even write them on scrap paper anymore but in a nondescript notebook in his dresser drawer—which he hadn’t pulled out since he broke up with an ex gym trainer more than a year ago.

Morpeko stuck her tongue out in disgust at finding another love song. She clambered over Marnie’s arms to the chips container. Morpeko licked her paw, dabbed it in the leftover salt, and cleaned her paw before hopping off the stage to rejoin the game.

“I don’t have a look like that.”

“Yes, you do,” Marnie replied in a sing-song voice. “You get this far away look on your face and a little, tiny smile like you’re thinkin' of somethin’ soft. I only see it when you’re datin’ someone or,” her eyes widen in realization, “you gotta crush.”

Piers’ stomach unclenched and fell to his boots.

“You’ve got a crush, dotcha?” His little sister pried. “Who is it? Do they like you back? Can they like you back? Are they a trainer? What’s their pokemon team? Do you see them often?”

Piers' head spun, blurring the rest of Marnie’s inquiries.

No way. He was too old for crushes, for one thing. For two, if Marnie’s theory held any water, then his ‘crush’ would be Leon.

That wasn’t possible.

Sure, he admired Leon’s strength and his determination. His kindness towards pokemon and others was sweet if a little goody-two-shoes. He was much more clever than he first appeared. His athletic frame stole Piers' attention and he wouldn't mind leaning up against that strength-trained chest.

Oh. Arceus. No.

Piers’ face reddened as he cataloged his thoughts. He did have a crush. He had a crush on Leon. Leon was the Chairman of the League. Not only that, he was and still is the poster child for preppy, sporty trainers everywhere. Leon was the goal children were taught to chase if they wanted to compete.

Only the trainers from Team Yell ever wanted to be anything like Piers, a badass who sang to his own song, not the one society dictated.

Sponsors flocked to Leon like mothim to a flame for his perfect public persona.

Only the Spikemuth Chamber of Commerce ever sponsored Piers, and that’s only because they always sponsored the gym leader.

Leon was the light that the world idolized.

He was the darkness that fought back to prove to those that the shadows were protective and safe for people like him. He was a fierce dark-type trainer. He sang punk rock. He had a band of miscreants who would follow his every order.

He could not have a crush on Leon.

Yet, he did.

What if people found out? Arceus, if news got around he wanted some of Leon’s finely toned ass—

“Piers?” Marnie poked his cheek.

He jumped, losing his balance and tumbling off the stage.

At the thud of his fall, the pokemon stopped their game. Obstagoon tossed his crisps bag aside to barrel towards his trainer. He skidded to his knees, dramatically throwing his claws up and crying out as if Piers fell off a ten-story building.

Marnie hopped down. Crouching, she asked, “Did you break your face?”

Piers groaned loudly. “Dark void, open up and swallow me. I no longer want to live in this cruel world that would play my heart like a harp string and snap it with its sick, twisted irony.”

Once Piers went on with his dramatic monologue, the pokemon returned to their games, confident Piers was fine. Obstagoon patted the back of Piers’ head reassuringly.

Marnie crouched next to him. “Is the person you have a crush on that bad? Are they married or,” she lowered her voice, “old?”

“We’re the same age.” Piers didn’t lift his head from the ground. “He’s single as far as I know.”

Marnie poked his cheek. “So what’s the matter? Are you too scared to ask him out?”

“No. It’s worse than that.” Piers crawled into Obstagoon’s lap and leaned his back against the warm, somewhat smelly, fur. Obstagoon wrapped him in a hug. He’d seen his trainer confused and in a pansexual punk panic before. Piers needed all the comfort Obstagoon could give him.

Marnie tucked her legs under her and waited expectantly for Piers to clarify.

He sighed, slumping farther down Obstagoon’s lap. Obstagoon’s arm fur tickled his nose as he buried his face in it.

“I can’t ask him out,” Piers muttered. “He’s my opposite.”

“Opposite?” Marnie echoed.

“Opposite,” Piers repeated. He paused, then said, “I’m punk. He does ballet. What more can I say?”

Her brows furrowed. She opened her mouth, then shut it, opened, shut, then tilted her head with one eyebrow raised.

"He dances?”

Piers rolled his head away. “You kids have no culture.” He sighed. “He’s the kind of person every kid wants to be like. I’m the kind of person kids stop comin’ to community gyms to train because of.”

Marnie hit her fist into her palm. “Oh, I get it. You don’t want to drag down his rep ‘cause people think you’re a lazy delinquent.”

“Hey!” Piers bolted up, right into Obstagoon’s hanging tongue. He wiped the slobber off his forehead with his forearm. He jabbed a finger at Marnie.

“It’s the other way around. He’d pull mine up from a mysterious, cool rebel rocker.”

He cringed at himself. Out loud it sounded childish. What was he, a schoolboy?

Piers flopped back against Obstagoon, grabbed Obstagoon’s arm, and dropped it over his face.

“Suffocate me. Please. I need to die to escape this torment.”

With a humph, Marnie wrapped her arms around Obstagoon’s thick forearm and lifted. She looked down at her brother with a frown.

“That’s it?” She shook her head. “That’s sad.”

“You’re a kid. You don’t understand.” Piers countered, trying to pull Obstagoon’s arm back over his face.

Marnie wrinkled her nose and tugged against Piers’ attempts.

“I am not.” She dug her feet into the ground. “It is sad. If you’re a ‘mysterious, cool, rebel rocker,’ why should you care what anyone thinks?”

Piers dropped his hands to his lap.

Without the opposing force against her, Marnie fell backward, still clinging to Obstagoon’s arm. Instead of letting her fall, Obstagoon lifted his arm, leaving her hanging off the ground. He carefully lowered her, but she kept his arm pressed against her chest.

Piers pushed himself up to his feet. He patted the back of his shirt, throwing black and white fur into the air. Without a word, he headed to the stage and picked up the trash from their food.

“Piers?” Marnie hugged Obstagoon’s arm to her chest. “Are you ok? I didn’t break you, did I?”

Piers turned. “Yeah. Just fine.” He walked back, bag in hand. A smile spread across his face as he reached up and ruffled her hair.

“You’re right. I was being the opposite of cool.” He admitted, prying her hands off Obstagoon's arm. “Thanks for reminding me.”

Marnie was right. He was the cool, fierce master of dark-type pokemon. He became one of the strongest trainers in all of Galar without resorting to Dynamax in a pinch.

Why the hell should he give a flying ratata’s ass about what other people think about who he wants to make out with?

He still didn’t want people knowing about his contest days. The stereotype of elitist snob coordinators still hung too closely to contests. The attraction could excuse Leon, but he didn't have a good enough excuse for dressing skuntank in a tophat and glittery, purple bow tie when he was still a stunky yet. Maybe if the contest scene grew a little, he could try again, but until then best keeping that particular secret under wraps.

Marnie shrugged, aloof. “It’s whatever. Someone needs to help you keep your head spun the right way around. I'm the only one qualified for it.”

“What would I do without you?” Piers chuckled.

“Die, probably,” Marnie replied. “So can you ask this guy out? Does he like you at all?”

Piers shrugged.

He didn’t know if Leon liked men. As far as he could remember, Leon never dated anyone of any gender. Leon had always been laser-focused on training and being the strongest trainer in Galar.

But if he did like men, would he be interested in Piers? He didn't know, but given how much time they’d be spending together training for the contest, maybe he could figure it out.

Marnie, her ponytails somewhat righted, asked, “If you need help, Gloria and me could—”

“I’d rather step on a pincurchin,” Piers cut her off, crushed the paper bag into a ball, and tossed it to the side. It bounced and went right through Scrafty's new card tower.

"Sorry," he apologized.

Scrarfy sobbed and slumped back. Marnie’s scrafty looked towards him then sighed. She walked around and helped him pick up the cards, their friendship restored.

“I’ll tell you if I find out anything.” He pointed at the hot potato game still ongoing with his thumb. “Right now, though, you and me don’t need boys when we can play with the best pokemon in the Galar region, though.” To Grimsnarl, he shouted, "Oi, toss it to me!"

Marnie giggled as Piers took her wrist and led her towards the game.

----

AN: Shout out to my friend Sara for the help with this! You da best!!! ^-^)/ Next chapter should be next week? I'll probably post to A03 first though if you want less of a wait.

Also feel free to follow my art blog @uas-art if you enjoyed the chapter art.

#fanfiction #dnnz #gym leader piers #Champion Leon #piersxleon #multi chapter

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shipppphappens · 3 years

Text

Zoey's extraordinary GoodBye

To make it short: I love that episode. Best episode of the whole show. What can I say more about it?

A LOT! And I will, but I can't say anything about something I didn't like cause there had been nothing. No single moment. It was a perfect whatever final.

I think Danny Michael Davis is so loveable. He is so strange but has a good heart and proofs that so often this season. It is obvious he replaces Joan in that season, but Noah Weisberg gave him so much live and character that he isn't just a replacement, he is a well deserved part of that show. My favorite moment with him from that episode was when he told Zoey that he choose Max over her.

Tobin and Mackenzie are so cute together. The foot cuddle, their speak to the crew or theire makeout in the chair. Just cute. And her fears about working together could break them up shows just how much she likes Tobin. And Leifs smiling face when they annonced theire relationship was very nice.

I also love David this season so much and his worries about his mom were just so funny.

The scene with Emily and Maggie was so nice. I like their relationship. And I think it is totally understandable for Maggie to go on with her life and maybe get a new partner. This is a huge step from the beginning of the season. Even Rogar was kind of creepy. Maybe he is a serial killer?

And I loved Maggies speach to Max. West Coast Mom - I am crying. Max is a part of that family. That he invited Maggie, David and Emily says a lot about how connected they are. Hope we will see more of that.

The next cute couple is Mo and Perry. Nothing can Perry stop to win Mo back. Not even Danny Michael Davis doing fire violations. I am really want to know if Mo told him to do this. In my head canon he did and DMD does him that favour. The duett was wonderful. I like it so much, I love the version of that song. And it was so nice to see how his kids running through Mo's Apartment and throwing that fox in the air. I hope we will see more of that in the next season.

I also love what a good friend Mo is to Zoey and Max. All his work for the party and his speak. This was such a wonderful friendship the whole season and this was just the highlight, with that wonderful speach.

And he is always there for Zoey which is great. Loved the scene when Zoey came to him to tell she wants to tell Max how she feels. The comparison between Perry's kids and Zoey - so hilerious. Alex Newell was killing the whole scene. When he was snippy about the dream and Mitch fix Zoey in one night or his disbelieve Zoey want to go alone after all the time he was there for her. Just loved it, love Mo and his big heart.

What next...

Zoey and Simon? Ok, let's talk about that. It is not so easy cause it was a relief that Simon broke up with Zoey. I know that there are a lot of pissed people out there, but it is like Zoey said, Simon and Zoey were never meant to be. This isn't their story, had never been and had been never told that way. But I like how they handled that moment. The talk at the pier was really nice and I wish Simon all the best. He had a passion inside he can use for his projects and I think he is on a good way doing great things in the world. I loved the happy Simon from the beginning of the season.

The music from that episode is amazing. No song I didn't like. Never been a fan of Taylor Swift but the ZeP version of "Shake it off" is so great an so full of live.

And I love the song that Mitch sang for Zoey so much. I loved how they danced, how happy Zoey had been, how she finaly realized she should live with less fear. This whole scene gave me just a good feeling. It was bittersweet beautiful and it is my all time favorite Mitch and Zoey scene. I also loved theire talk. I was hoping the whole time Mitch will help Zoey to realize that she and Max belong to each other and find the courage to tell him. I thought they will use the video from episode one but this was better in so many ways. But they had this circle to the first episode that season by using Mitch related songs to come to the Max and Zoey moments. They even use the same way of cut. Also the colour of their clothes matching to last dance when Mitch died. I love how they use stuff like that.

From here on I go in chronologically way:

Zoey's sadness at the beginning of the episode was also bittersweet. It is so nice to see how Max going away affected her. Even Simon can't change her mood. The first talk with Mo had been a start to finaly think and talk about what she should really do. And her writting Max name on the cookie just say everything about her heart. I am not really sure if it was a mistake to put things on pause, but how they handled it was a huge, big mistake.

Max put the dummy in his suitcase was like Max name on the cookie. They are both so in love with each other. And I feel sorry for Rose, but I am happy she is smart enough not to push Max.

Maybe it slipped out not on purpose, but Zoey really want's to tell Max she is available. His face was priceless. And her comes the next piece from the puzzle for Rose.

It was really sweet that Zoey wanted that party special for Max and her speach was just perfect. I liked the part with the big apple is sweeter now most. That this speach end up at the kitchen made it even better. I understand that Zoey is pissed but she should know that it wasn't because he felt sorry for her because of her mom. I am happy she find out and Zoey sees again how perfect Max is for her. And would have been to easy to say all the things now, they said at the end, but the looks in their eyes said more then 1000 words.

Zoey's fear of loss isn't something new, it is her theme throughout the whole show. Explained more in the episode before and climaxed in her dream with Mitch. She is to afraid of loosing Max and even they won't break up some day, she could loose him anyway, like she lost Mitch. I think it is beautiful, but I am happy she take that jump and is finally able to tell him.

Her talk to Mo, her enthusiasm, her crazy babbling about a plan (don't do drugs in Roses backbag) and she goes without thinks through, just doing - perfect.

When she heared Max (perfectly) singing about he loves a woman and she thinks he is singing about Rose - also perect. And this is why: this isn't just the way how we get that wonderfull ending, no. Zoey is learning a lesson. If you don't know the context you can't know what is in other peoples head. It is the 2nd time in that episode she realized she can't know everything just because of her powers. And I think it is a great gesture to just let him go and to be happy with Rose cause she thinks he loves her. She doesn't try to change his mind and to get what she wants, she accepted his choice. This shows how much she loves him cause loving someone isn't always fighting, sometimes it is just doing what is right.

Her relationsship advice to Mackenzie was so nice and shows how much she learned and grow during the last months. And Iove her fumbling with the ring - the ring, who is with her the whole season, even when she and Max are fighting, when she is with Simon, when everything seems lost, she keeps the ring Max gave her. And it is such a nice circle to close the season, when Max said to her it wouldn't make her invissible. They are talking about superpowers. A thing Zoey allready has, feeling alone with it and Max also struggles not to can hear her thoughts. I think it is a great twist that Max can now also hear heartsong and it doesn't came out of the blue. When I think about it, it makes so much sense. Max's heartsongs are always kind of special. They were more touchy than others, except for Mitch's but they are all 3 connected to each other. And it brings so many possibilities for a 3rd season.

And save the best for the last: CLARKEMAN ENDGAME!!!!

The love you could see in both eyes, what they said, their bodylanguage, it was just perfect. I am so over the moon and I am so in love with Zoey's heartsong. She looked so happy and in love. And I am so happy and in love with that episode, that show, that season, these characters, the music.

#zoey clarke #zoey's extraordinary playlist #jane levy #skylar astin #max richman #max x zoey #zoey x max #clarkeman #zomax #zoey's extraordinary goodbye #always team max

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wittykitty21 · 3 years

Text

Falling Together

//Shanexfarmer HarveyxFarmer Sebastianxfarmer??

TW !! Talk of self harm, suicide, drinking, abuse, death!!

Chapter Two; Warm and Cold Welcomes

As I walked into the Stardrop Saloon, Emily immediately ran over and hugged me.

“You’re here!! You’re really back! I knew it was you the second I felt your energy hit the earth here.” She beamed. I hugged her back, I felt so accepted and warm here. She began introducing me to everyone, including a hot lean alternative guy with black swooped over hair, grey eyes and dressed all up in black along with a girl with purple hair and dressed in a black shirt with a frog printed on it. I assumed he was Robin’s son she had previously told me about.

“Heyyyyy Guns n Roses, nice taste. I’m Sebastian and this is Abigail. Abigail smiled and waved a little shyly at me. Sebastian continued,“ Sure mom’s told you about me. What’s your name?” he looked flirtatious towards me, but before I could tell him, a flash of blonde hair ran over to me and i was immediately lifted at least two feet off the ground into a hug.

“EVIEEEEE!!!!! I can’t believe its you!! We have so much catching up to do since we last made mud pies together. ” He smiled and put me back down. Me being slightly startled from his energetic golden retriever personality. Sebastian was laughing at the startled expression I had.

“Awww Sam, missed me pushing you over and you crying when I beat you in video games? “ I smirked.

“You know it! I’ve gotten pretty good over the years, you owe me unlimited rematches. And - Hey, I don’t think you’ll be able to push me over anymore, short stack. “ Sam was around 6′0 ft, and I had stayed at a measly 5′3 and a HALF since I was 13. I was happy Sam was the same overly optimistic ray of sunshine he had been since a kid.

“Jeezzzz Sam give her some breathing room. Sorry about him, he’s always like this” Abigail chuckled.

Sebastian slid back into the conversation, “So, Evie, is that your real name or is that your nickname?”

“Oh, yeah. I just go by Evie. My full name is Evangeline Eliza Jones-Destriu. I hate how long my name is.... and the fact my parents chose to hyphenate my last name.” I smiled weakly.

“Well a cute name to match a super cute girl with awesome fashion sense! “, exclaimed Abigail. “You have to show me where you get your clothes from.”

“As long as you show me where you got that frog shirt from, frogs are like one of my favorite animals.” I said excitedly.

After playing a little bit of pool with my new friend group, everyone else from the town started pouring in. I went up to Marnie, who was talking to Lewis. As I approached she immediately recognized me and hugged me.

“Evangeline!!!! Oh my goodness. You’ve become quite the beautiful young woman. You look so much like your grandpa. I’m sure hes so proud of you for taking over the farm. I’ll be here to help you as much as you need getting started. When Shane gets here you should say hello to him.”

“Shane? “ I squinted a little, confused.

“My nephew, you two were best friends whenever you spent the summers here.” she said a little worried. She noticed the bruise too, I tried to hide it behind my hair but I was starting to think it was inevitable.

“I’m sorry Marnie, I have memory problems. I’ll talk to you more about it in private when we catch up, but if you point him out to me I’m sure I’ll remember his face. I’m just not good with names. “

Marnie seemed a little sad that I hinted at the fact life hadn’t been very easy for me. “He’ll be here in a bit, he’s almost always at the saloon after work. He’s usually over there near the fireplace and bar. If you want you can come over for dinner on Sunday, I’m sure you havent had a good home cooked meal in a while since living in the city.”

I smiled widely “I’d absolutely love that. I was just telling Lewis today about how much I missed your cooking.”

As I said that, a man in a tattered up hoodie, dark black-purple hair, who was quite broad shouldered and had a dad body walked inside the saloon. He looked void of emotion and tired. Emily wasn’t phased by this, she smiled and treated him like everyone else in the warm happy way she did. He looked almost angry at her for her being nice to him. That’s when Marnie said “Well there he is, that’s my Shane.”

Maybe he just had a bad day, I thought. I thought about getting him something to eat to maybe cheer him up a bit. After all, I knew all about having bad days. So I walked over to Emily, and he peeked up at me, seeming annoyed. This built up anxiety in me, but my therapist said I needed to overcome my fear of upsetting people after all I’d been through. So I asked Emily,

“Hey what’s Shane’s favorite food?”

“Oh, he loves pepper poppers. Um.... Evie, hes a little..... rough around the edges.” she smiled “but he has a good heart. He has a goddaughter named Jas, and he took her in.”

I nodded, and she handed me a plate of the spicy food. I walked over cautiously to him, he smelled like beer and whiskey. I slid the food beside him and he looked up at me kind of dazed, probably from the alcohol.

“Hey, I’m new in town, I don’t know if you remember me but I’m-”

“What the fuck do you want? I don’t fucking know you, so piss off and leave me alone.” He spat at me and didn’t even look me in the eyes. I stood back shocked, feeling tears well up. Emily went pale, Marnie, Sam and Sebastian saw the look of hurt on my face. I immediately turned around and went back to Emily.

“Hey you okay? I’m sorry, he’s not normally that harsh. Here,” She said as she handed me a bottle of wine. “its on the house. I should’ve told you he’s uh, an angry person.”

I couldn’t speak, the feeling of panic and tears welled up in my throat and I knew it was visible on my face. I just looked at her and nodded. “I’ll be alright, thanks Emily. I just wasn’t expecting that. I’m gonna head home.”

I took the wine and Marnie tried to stop me and talk to me, she saw the tears starting to come down and gave me a quick hug. As I turned to leave I felt like i was being watched, and I locked eyes with him. A sudden wash of recognition and regret hit his face. He saw he made me cry and i knew now he knew who I was. He put down his beer and looked like he was about to walk over. I almost ran out the door, and started sprinting towards the forest with the wine in hand. As soon as I knew I was out of earshot, I broke down. I looked for the pond my grandfather used to take me to when I was sad.

---Back at the Saloon while Evie is in the woods, Shane POV--

Marnie walked over to Shane. “What has gotten into you? You grew up with that girl!!!! You made her cry after she wsa just trying to be nice to you.”

“I-I didn’t recognize who she was until she left. I’m going to find her and apologize, I’m sorry Marnie. I’m just--” he sighed. God. I always fuck up. He thought.

Marnie patted him on the shoulder “I know Shane. Just-- try to remember you’re not the only one who’s been through a lot. Okay?”

He nodded and left the Saloon to find and apologize to Evie.

--Back to Evie in the woods, Shane POV--

I sat down at the edge of the pier and downed the entire bottle of wine. I hadn’t imagined something so small would make me relapse. The alcohol made me feel warm so i took off my long sleeve shirt and kept on my large band tee. The bandages and stitches itched with my mistakes. So I took them off. They probably needed a little air anyways. The vertical cuts that were held together with thread still looked pretty bad and they bled a little as I unraveled the wrapping, but they were at least mostly closed up with scabs. Around the wounds were bruises from Daniel, my ex -fiance. I could still see the finger marks were he had grabbed me on my arm. I cried somewhat loudly and just laid and looked up at the stars for a while. I started feeling dizzy, and tired. And the comforting numbness washed over me as everything faded into darkness. I thought I heard someone walking towards me but I didn’t care. They could kill me and I’d die happy right there.

--Shane’s POV finding Evie--

I knew where she was going, the same place she went when she snuck out of her gradfathers when she missed her dad. I heard loud crying, like someone was in pain. It had to be her, I was already tipsy and quickened my pace towards the loud cries. Suddenly it stopped. Oh Yoba. Oh no. Why did it stop?

I didn’t want to frighten her, so I tried to walk a little loudly. I saw a figure laid out on the pier, close to the edge of the side, she was about to roll off into the pond. “Evie? Hey.”

No response. Oh fuck. As i got closer I saw the empty wine bottle, and i felt a pang of guilt and worry.

Wait. What the hell? I turned on my phones light and shined it on her, she passed out from drinking. But- what was......

I saw cuts on both her wrists that were obviously a previous suicide attempt, they were stitched together, but she also had dark bruises of all colors on her arms, and she had cried off her makeup, revealing a darkened eye as well.

I felt like I had just walked in on a crime scene. I never thought I’d meet someone more messed up than me, much less a childhood friend. What the hell happened to her? I tried shaking her awake and calling her name but she didn’t wake up. More panic and anxiety came over me. I picked her up gingerly in my arms to bring her to the clinic, she was so small and soft. She smelled like strawberries and vanilla. Shane studied her features. She had the same freckles, same button nose, same long eyelashes and dark hair as he remembered her having as she had when they were little. She was gorgeous too. How could anyone hurt such a beautiful fragile girl? What the hell is wrong with me? Why am I thinking this way? Get a grip Shane.

I called Harvey, “Hello?” A groggy mans voice answered.

“Hey uh Harvey, the new farmer girl, she’s actually a childhood friend of mine. I found her passed out drunk on a pier and she looks like she’s already been in bad shape. I can’t wake her up, I’m bringing her as we speak. She already has stitches and-- She’s just in a really bad way.” Shane’s voice quaked a bit at the end of his sentence.

“Okay, oh Yoba, thats not good. Hurry here as fast as you can okay? I’ll get things ready for her so I can immediately work on her. Is she breathing? “ The words Harvey said made me panic more. Fuck. I didn’t even check to see if she was fucking breathing. I looked down and she was breathing gently and normally.

“Yeah she is, I think she’s just really drunk. I’m not sure.” I said back.

I carried her in, set her down on the hospital bed. Holy fuck. I hadn’t noticed how bad she really was hurt. She hid all of it with clothes and her long hair. She looked like she had been beaten over and over again over the past month. Even her eye and jaw had small bruises that had healed. Who did this to her? Then I saw the cuts. They were worse in the florescent lighting. Those were definitely on purpose.

Harvey looked pale at the sight of her. “Okay, here, see if she has any emergency contacts on her phone. I’m going to get fluids into her. Aside from that, looks like all of this was from previous incidents.” and he closed the curtain leaving shane in the little area next to the room. She didn’t have but a few contacts saved. One of them was Daniel, as I selected his contact I noticed the number had been blocked. The picture of him was a guy with blonde hair and blue eyes, the athletic type. Looked like a general douchebag. A text came in from a random number.

“What the fuck? You think you can just run away from me? Restraining order is just a piece of paper. I’ll find you. I know you’re probably shacked up with some scumbag, you whore. Not even your father wanted you, your mom died and its your fault. You’ll never find anyone better than me.” It read. That had to be him. The whiskey helped fill me with rage, I typed the number into my phone and left to the lobby to call it.

It rang a couple of times before a condescending voice answered,

“Come crawling back already psycho? You should’ve done a better job at trying to off yourself bitc-”

I cut him off, “Don’t contact her ever again. Or I’ll fucking kill you.” I hung up. And blocked the number. Why was I doing this? She was practically a stranger to me now.

I shook my head and left her phone with Harvey. I needed to sleep. I’d have Marnie call Harvey tomorrow to check on her. I looked at her one last time before I left, I remembered we’d have sleep overs, and she still slept curled up on her side.

I went home and told Marnie, she shook her head.

“I’m sorry, Shane. I should’ve told you. Her father deserted her, he mother fell into drinking and killed herself. Evie found her when she was 18. Her grandfather died the same year. She has no one. I don’t know why she has bruises, but I suspect thats why she came here so far away from the city. Please be kind to her. ” She looked worried.

“I-I...... yoba. I had no idea. She hadn’t-” I said then Marnie interuppted me.

“She didn’t come here probably because I wanted to run away from whoever hurt her that bad.”

I hardly slept that night, I got up for work in the morning and looked at the clinic on my way.

I’m so sorry Evie. I need a fucking drink.

#sdv #shane x farmer #stardew valley fanfiction #stardew valley #stardew #shane stardew #shane fanfiction #fanfic #fanfiction #series #writer #stories #angst #TW #read with caution

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amirajones · 3 years

Text

Forbidden love: The Pirate and the Pirate Princess pt. 1

Pairing: Princess Amira White x Killian Jones (Hook)

wordcount: 2293

I question when it started or when it was all going downhill in my royal life that things just seemed...dull. I could never complain about my life, except well the worst day of my life as a child. It was a good day I was eight going to be nine soon and Snow's birthday was the next day. We were both so happy about it to celebrate with our mother and father. Had mother never gotten sick and tried to make it like she was fine we could have possibly done something to help her instead I was useless to help one of the two people I cared about most in this world. We had no choice but to watch her slowly die and even when Snow had gone out to find a cure the answer was something dark that neither of us wanted to consider.

I think during the funeral is when my world started to look not as bright anymore with my mother's death. I was so young so the sadness had a good hold on me but even so Snow tried making me feel better. After a few months dad made us Travel by horse, while Johanna our hand maiden who had taken over being the mother figure in our life was walking beside the horses. The one I was riding was a beautiful white horse but like Snow I loathed the constant traveling.

We traveled for days going from kingdom to kingdom in search of what father called our future stepmother. I was tired of the traveling to the point of just leaning against the horse and about to just collapse. Johanna was the one who made it easier to keep going knowing this was never going to be an easy thing for the two of us.

"Snow, Amira your father King Leopold is a lonely man now that your mother has passed away." Johanna said "I know Johanna but that does not mean we are not tired." Amira said

We made it to another kingdom where we were welcomed by the royals of the castle, I expected much of the same with the last two kingdoms. Snow had gotten down and she was so cheerful and social while I was merely watching without speaking. Johanna had learned between the two of us which one wanted to talk to the people and who would rather stay in the background.

"Amira, you should be more like your sister and talk to people. Someday you will run a kingdom of your own next to a King." Johanna said "Wishful thinking but I want to see what is in the world before I settle down." Amira said

No one approved of my thoughts but I was different than most princesses, I guess it came with being second in line. There was a pier close by from what I looked around but saw father and Snow were having a good time talking. So I decided to speak up.

"May I look around your kingdom?" I asked "Of course Princess, you can look as far as you want even to the village." The king of the kingdom said "I will go with you." Johanna said

I walked for a bit glad to get off the horse for traveling and we walked until we made it to the pier. I sat on the edge looking out at the sea wanting to know what was out there beyond the land. Beyond these meaningless traveling and this royal life where people did what he asked cause we were in higher society than them.

"You seem so lost in thoughts." Johanna said "I just want to see what is out there, father says when I'm older but hat if he doesn't?" Amira said "You'll have access to your father's ship." Johanna said "yes, when I am older." Amira said "You will be able to do everything you want in time, but you must keep yourself going forward for your mother's wishes." Joahanna said

My mother, it was hard to even think that she wasn't here anymore and the fact that we didn't even know why or how she died. Life was just beating through the time but it was easier with father than living without him. It was easier with doing so much more but there was ways to do it and waiting for it to be done the right way.

We stayed here for a few days but just like all the other kingdoms dad didn't find what he was looking for so we were back on the road with the horses. I blocked out most of what happened just to get through it but it was during these travels we met our stepmother Regina. She was nice in the beginning but people can change for the worst.

When we returned home I was overly happy and ran to my room to put away the gifts we got on our travel but to lay in my own bed was a blessing.

A couple years passed since then as Snow and I took up learning how to sword fight in case we ever needed it someday. Father was over protective but with Snow and I as his daughters he knew we needed to know how to fight. I heard him talking about a party when we were older. A masquerade ball in our honor which actually helped me get into a good mood with something to do as we practiced for years. Time passed with our practice and though I hadn't had much match against Snow in the beginning we became apart of those who got to be better.

All that practicing payed off but still the time came when the masquerade ball was happening. Johanna had some outfits made for us. I went to my room and checked out what I had option wise and It was hard to decide. Blue dress with a pretty blue mask to go with it or a red dress knee high with a gold mask. It made it so hard to decide whether I wanted to go proper or I wanted to be a bit rebel.

Options:

I decided to go with the red dress as it gave more mystery and I didn't want the people bowing to me. I didn't want to be proper so I had to figure this out on my own but Johanna came in seeing what I was doing and she helped me. She didn't even show any disapprovement in my choice for tonight just went along and tended to it. She also styled my hair to where people wouldn't recognize me. It was the first time my hair had been up since mother died and when I put my mask on I didn't even recognize myself.

"You look so pretty Amira." Johana said "thank you Johanna." Amira said

When I left the room I knew Johanna wouldn't be attending so when we could walk in I was glad we didn't have to be announced. I saw father talking with the people, this masquerade had a mix of royals and the people of the kingdom. I walked being at ease with no one approaching and bowing glad that I could do as I pleased. As I walked I went over to the drink table getting a cup of punch when I heard a familiar voice and looked.

"You look amazing tonight Mira." Derek said "What gave it away it was me?" Amira asked "Every princess or maiden is wearing a dress that goes down to the ground." Derek said "Right, I didn't feel like being proper tonight." Amira said "Rebellious as always, less expectations on you so you don't have to worry." Derek said

Derek is my best friend from another kingdom, he went through that boy phase of not liking girls with having to see his intended every summer. I have met her a few times and didn't mind hanging with her but I wasn't allowed to go crazy. Father has been very over protective with me and Snow. We were always social with each other during events with everything going on but we walked through the crowd when I landed on one of the peasant girls in my village named Analise.

"Analise!" I yelled

Analise was already having punch with her brown hair, black dress and mask on for the party as she noticed us. I walked over and we all started talking like it wasn't some big event as I saw my sister come in. She was a bit later than I expected as I saw her white flowing gown and her mask. I knew she always represented what we stood for but she was next to be Queen. I admired my sister so much but I wanted to be just like her.

Snow's Attire:

I talked with my friends knowing that this was good enough for me but when I was out of punch I went to get some more. I was on my own as I refilled my glass taking a sip of my glass when I heard the sound of foot steps. I knew it was possibly my imagination but I felt someone tap on my shoulder which made me look.

"Forgive me, you're quite beautiful tonight." The man said "thank you, uh.." I realized I never saw him before "Where are my manners, I'm Prince Nicholas. I was wondering if you could tell me where I might find Princess Amira." Nicholas said

My whole body about tensed hearing this prince was looking for me but he was looking for someone dressed more properly than I was. Snow was sort of easy to tell her name was Snow and she was wearing white. I knew I could lie after all I couldn't do it with my family but I could give it a try.

"Sorry No. I..I don't know where Lady Amira is." Amira said Nicholas seemed to notice my hesitation and he seemed to be about to say something when another man joined in and suddenly put his arm around me. "Luv, here you are I've been looking for you." He said I didn't know this man but he was helping "why Yes, I was getting some punch." I said going along with it.

Watching as the prince left seeming to buy the sudden intruders ways of cutting in the conversation I let out the breath I didn't know I was holding. I felt the man let me go but not leave as I was looking around. I wanted to know why a sudden stranger would just jump in and save me like that without even knowing the situation.

"thank you sir." I said I saw him take my gloved hand and kiss it "Killian Jones." He said as I looked at him through my mask and saw he was also wearing one. "Now Princess Amira, you should be a bit more careful."

My whole body went into sock as he realized who was I was, this couldn't be happening to me. I as so sure no one would figure out my disguise but all the more reason to figure out who was behind the mask. I still inquired about what he was doing here after all I was curious now.

"How did you figure out who I am?" Amira asked "What brings you to the ball? gold? Jewels?" "Quite perceptive of you to be so bold Princess." Killian said "No one helps out for any reason if not for some gain." Amira said "Why I came is my business, but you seemed very uncomfortable with the prince." Killian said "How perceptive." Amira said

I thought my next words carefully knowing this was a man I'd never met and yet here I was talking with him. I took another sip of my punch keeping in mind that I had to represent this kingdom. My father was out dancing with my sister and my step mother was just sitting at a table. My world had seemed dull for quite some time but now it seemed color was resurfacing.

"Let me guess, you want to do things before you get married." Killian said before I could answer. "Yes, I want to sail the seas see what is out there. Fall in love on my own terms with whoever I want." Amira said "Well, I've been around some time. Maybe you should meet me at the tavern. I would love to know just how Amira is." Killian said

To say I wasn't interested was a lie cause he had my attention even when I didn't think any man would ever have my attention on anything. Derek and Analise came over which got my attention for a minute. Analise smiled seeing I was talking to someone for once she knew I wasn't very social with people.

"Mira, who is this?" Derek asked "My savior for the night, seems there is a prince looking for me tonight and he was able to rescue me from an awkward encounter." Amira said "Does your savior have a name?" Analise asked "Killian Jones." Killian said

The surprised look on Analise's face told me more than I needed to know that something was up she recognized that name. She pulled me over to her where Killian couldn't hear her and she whispered one word in my ear.

"He's a pirate, the one people call Hook." Analise whispered.

#masquerade #once upon a time #killian jones #killian jones x reader #captain hook #Hook x oc #Amira White #Selena Marriot #ouat #fanfic #Colin O'Donoghue

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fiddlepickdouglas · 3 years

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Viva Las Vegas, Pt. 8 - Familiar

Summary: Sunset Curve Alive AU, Willex, is it him?, 2.8k

@trevor-wilson-covington is the bestie who makes these lovely edits, we stan supportive friends

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7

Alex sat at his drum set, sticks in hand, and began hitting things at random. Watching the cymbals wobble at dramatic angles every time he made a blow, hearing the crash ring in his ears over and over, making the toms sound da-da-dum in a roll, like his frustration could finally sound out something that fit what he meant to get across. His mom had bought him a punching bag last Christmas in a passive aggressive insistence that he needed a quiet thing to hit if he was going to get things out. Sure, he used it, but only when he actually wanted to work out. He made sure she knew so she couldn’t complain to him about wasting her money on such an expensive gift.

He needed the drums specifically. His thoughts and feelings couldn’t always come out of his mouth, but they were definitely sounds. It wasn’t his fault he couldn’t make them with his own tongue. The only time he’d gotten close was when he and Willie had been screaming over the railing of the observation deck at the Stratosphere a few weeks ago.

Today’s tantrum (and preceding argument) was over school. He was a good student, but the way things were going with Sunset Curve, Alex had little desire to continue. What was another year of subjects he already grasped the concept of when he had no plans to use them? It was a circular conversation at this point, like most things he had with his parents lately. Sometimes he could nod and pretend to just accept whatever they said, but other times they got under his skin. They got in like termites, making anything that was stable inside before feel hollow and weak.

A knock sounded at the door and Alex stilled his cymbals before getting up to answer it. It was his younger sister, Abby.

“You have a phone call,” she told him. Her tone was sassy, but Alex smiled a little at hearing it mirror his own. She was learning. He was proud. Messing up her hair as he moved past her, he went over to the phone and grabbed the receiver.

“Hey, what’s up?” he answered, knowing it could only be one of three people on the other end.

“Hey, man.” It was Bobby. “Luke’s been having a rough day. He won’t say that it’s because Julie is heading out to finish her tour soon, but I’m pretty sure that’s what it’s about. Reggie and I are thinking we take him to the pier; hopefully we can distract him.”

“That’s a perfect idea,” Alex said. “I can meet you at your place in about five minutes.”

“Sweet, dude, see ya.”

They hung up and Alex grabbed his fanny pack, slipping outside without saying a word to anyone. If his parents weren’t used to it by now that was their fault.

Less than an hour later, all the guys were on the boardwalk, surrounded by the many games and rides at Santa Monica. Someone else was busking in the corner they usually occupied, playing a saxophone and they each dropped some change in the tin set out before them. Luke was bouncy and energetic for the most part, but relatively quiet. A few thrill rides would break the silence soon enough, though.

They all walked with their arms around each other’s shoulders, forming a wall that forced anyone else to move around them. Alex had made sure Luke was in the middle, sandwiched between him and Reggie, with Bobby on Reggie’s other side. It didn’t last long, thanks to Alex’s long legs getting them all out of sync, but they still liked doing it. Soon it was just Luke and Reggie, letting Bobby and Alex walk slightly ahead on their own.

“We wanna get something to eat first?” Luke suggested.

“And blow chunks on the rides?” Alex responded. “Kinda not in the mood to pay for my own puke, thank you.”

The look of slight horror on Luke’s face made Bobby laugh.

“Thanks, Alex, for that,” Luke was saying.

“Guys, there’s a short line over here!” Reggie was already heading toward one of the rides, eyes bright with excitement. Alex held out a hand so Bobby could go before him, receiving a head shake of denial before he followed him and pulled Luke along behind. It was a two-seater anyway, and even if Alex weren’t trying to give them a nudge, having Reggie scream in front of him was far better than directly into his ears.

He usually didn’t scream on the rides as much, but he took the opportunity this time. It felt great. Willie had unknowingly given him a gift in that simple act of emptying his lungs into the air. Ride after ride, he wanted to lose his voice to all the things he let out. The safety guards didn’t quite feel like Willie’s hands grabbing onto his jacket, but he wanted to pretend. Among all the realities he kept near his chest, it was alright to imagine he still had Willie there - smiling, giggling, hands open to be held.

He’d had a good amount of time to bang it out once they’d gotten home. Alex broke more sticks that day than he ever had in his life. The main reason he stopped was because Abby came to his room crying, both because she was extremely annoyed and could tell something was wrong. Maybe his parents weren’t much for support, but he was grateful for her. He was also glad she was only nine and was still a huge cuddle bug.

After getting dizzy on rides, Luke was finally at full energy again and had moved them onto games. Alex preferred to watch, but Luke and Bobby were competitive while Reggie cheered for both.

“Is this what it was like in the arcade?” Alex asked, elbowing Reggie as he hollered at Bobby trying to throw a basketball in the net.

“You bet!” Reggie turned with a smile. “We went lo-co.” He enunciated the last word. “You got this Bobby!”

Luke had finished his turn and come up with nothing, so he joined the other two.

“Okay, after this, I’m hungry so I say we get hot dogs,” he told them.

“Yes,” Alex agreed, feeling hungry himself.

Suddenly Reggie began cheering, and they turned to see Bobby celebrating as well as he made a final shot into the hoop. The guy working the booth let him choose from their ridiculously large stuffed animals, and he grabbed a giant puppy. Reggie’s excitement overcame him and once Bobby was facing his direction, Reggie butted his forehead against him, leaving Bobby blinking in confusion. Yikes, Alex thought. They were going to take a long time to sort things out.

Luke guided them all to his favorite hot dog vendor and they all sat at a table that was placed along a wall covered in posters. Alex positioned himself facing away from the table. Sometimes they liked to scout venues they hadn’t tried playing at yet, and it had been a while since they had come to the pier to check the wall. The missing person posters had become more numerous in their corner, which was a sad change. Alex saw one for the Viper Room and nearly had the impulse to cross himself reverently for the sake of Rivers Phoenix.

He unfortunately spotted a familiar face among the missing person posters. Luke’s parents were still hoping he would come back home. He peeked up at the rest of the guys, all bent over their food too far to pay attention, and decided he didn’t need to say anything. The whole thing with the Pattersons was touchy for all of them, but he knew it wasn’t a good idea to bring it up.

Taking a bite into his own hot dog, Alex looked back up and caught the picture beneath Luke. It was a young boy, aged nine, with dark hair growing over his ears.

William was the only name associated with him, but it listed other things like ‘missing since 1988,’ and ‘last seen in Reno, NV’ and a physical description. Alex furrowed his brow and slowly chewed the rest of his bite as he lifted a hand to pat Reggie on the back.

“Hey, you - you don’t think that’s Willie, do you?” he asked quietly, pointing at the poster. Reggie looked over his shoulder at the kid in the picture. He returned a look of sympathy to Alex.

“Alex,” he said softly. “I know you miss him, buddy, but sometimes a kid is just a random kid. We’ve probably seen his poster every time we’ve been here and just never cared. I hope the little dude’s okay, though.” He glanced back at the picture before facing forward again.

“Yeah,” Alex huffed lightly. “You’re probably right.” He flipped himself around to face the rest of the guys at the table and finish his food, ignoring the pit in his chest.

Julie sat by her mom’s side, holding her hand gently and feeling her breathe as she rested soundly. She was going to hate leaving in the morning, but she only had to finish this leg of the tour and then she could be home. They had made plans together to make scrapbooks about her shows, and she wasn’t going to miss it. Her mom always knew how to motivate her, and she was really grateful for that.

One of the nurses entered the room and gave her a sweet smile. She had kind, squinting eyes and her black hair was tied into a bun that had since loosened up.

“Don’t mind me, I’m just making some checks, doing some cleaning, this and that,” she said.

“I don’t mind at all,” Julie assured her. It was hardly the first time she’d been around while one of the nurses was doing their routines. Something about it had become calming, like it let her know that her mom was in good hands.

“She’s so proud of you,” the woman said among her movements.

Looking up, Julie felt her chest straining to hold the weight that had entered. She couldn’t help but take those words as heavy as they could come.

“I’m sure she tells you, but if you weren’t already making a name for yourself the entire hospital would know who you are by now anyway.”

“She talks a lot, huh?” Julie asked solemnly, a hint of a smile pulling the corners of her mouth.

The nurse raised her eyebrows.

“When she’s having a good day, she’s the best to be around.”

Julie nodded.

“That’s my mom,” she said quietly, smiling.

They both were quiet as the nurse continued about her work.

“Do you have any kids?” Julie asked.

The nurse chuckled.

“Quite a few, actually. I have six. Well, seven, but six at home with me.”

“Wow!” Julie couldn’t imagine handling that big of a family.

“Some of them are older than you, but my youngest is ten now. Most of them just go off and do their own thing or take care of each other.”

“Does the seventh have their own family?”

Pausing, the nurse seemed to blink strangely. She took in a deep breath and then went back to the sheet she had been folding.

“No, unfortunately, we lost him,” she said, the warmth she had spoken with earlier a little more withdrawn.

Julie immediately felt bad for asking, and she seemed to freeze at the tension.

“Don’t be sorry,” the nurse said. “I don’t mean he passed away. We don’t know where he is.”

A horrific realization swept over Julie as she realized there was something more terrifying than the death of a loved one. Not knowing where they were or if they were okay - it sounded like hell. A well of pity deepened inside her heart.

“Has it been a long time?” she asked tentatively.

The nurse nodded.

“It’s hard to let go,” she said, almost sounding like she was changing the subject. “But we all figure out something that helps us carry on.” She straightened with her clipboard in hand at Rose’s bedside.

“What did you find?” Julie asked, genuinely hoping it was a good answer.

The nurse’s eyes glistened as she smiled wistfully.

“Never forgetting,” she said. “But I think you’ve already found something that will help you.”

Julie cocked her head to the side, not understanding what she meant.

“My niece is a big fan, by the way,” the woman said, bowing her head down as she exited the room.

A small noise from her mom made Julie turn to see her eyes slowly opening up.

“Hey, mom,” she said softly, leaning closer to her.

Rose smiled and rubbed her thumb over Julie’s hand.

“Sweetie, hi,” she responded in a raspy voice. “You’re gonna play a mini show for that nurse’s niece, too, aren’t you?”

Julie chuckled. Of course she could overhear them.

“I’m thinking about it,” she told her.

Quietly shutting the front door behind him, Alex surveyed his family’s dark front room before tip-toeing up the stairs to his room. Thank goodness his dad wasn’t reading in the living room this time. He was always guaranteed to be caught when that happened. Once he got to his bedroom he took off his hat and fanny pack and was pulling his hoodie over his head when he heard a small knock. Dammit, he’d be so close.

Opening his door, he looked down to see Abby in her pajamas holding something behind her back.

“Abby, god,” he whispered. “I thought you were gonna be mom.”

She shyly shook her head. Her little blonde braids made small shuffling noises as they barely reached past her shoulders.

“What did you want?” Alex asked her.

“I wanted to show you my picture,” she told him quietly.

Any other night he would’ve sent her back to her room to show him in the morning, but her cuteness was a weapon and Alex was oddly weak tonight.

“Come here,” he said, nodding his head to let her inside. He patted the space beside him on his bed. She grinned as she sat cross-legged and held up the picture.

Alex could definitely identify himself, because she always drew him with his fanny pack on. There was also what appeared to be Luke, Reggie, and Bobby.

“Wait, who’s that?” he asked, pointing to a fifth person in the picture.

“It’s your other friend. I don’t know their name. I heard you talking about them.”

Alex sat back and looked at her, not sure if he was mad about it or not. He tried to be cryptic in his conversations over the phone with the guys, especially if they brought up Willie, so how she picked up on anything was almost impressive.

“Do you not like it?” Abby wondered.

Shaking his head, Alex put his arm around her and squeezed her into his side.

“Abby, this is great!” he assured. “I just didn’t know you paid such good attention.”

“I have good hearing, you know,” she stated proudly. Alex chuckled and gave her a light noogie. “Heeeyy!!” She put up her hands to get him off of her.

“Look at this, though!” he said, pointing to the drawing. “You even got that he has long hair!”

“It’s a boy?” she exclaimed, and then clamped her hand over her mouth. “You have a crush on a boy?”

Alex’s jaw hung open a few seconds too long and immediately felt his body begin to shake and all words were caught in his throat.

“I know what that’s like, Alex,” Abby was saying, in her sassy way. It was enough to reboot his brain.

“Wait, how do you know that? You’re nine!” He looked at her like she was his odd sister again.

Abby simply shrugged.

“Not telling you about it,” was all she said. “And your boy sounds cute.”

The emotion that took over was too good to just be relief. Alex pulled her into a tight hug, seriously trying not to cry. They sat like that for a minute until he got afraid of crushing her.

“You’re a stinker,” he told her, rubbing her back and lightly kissing the top of her head. “But I love you.”

“I love you too, Alex,” she said, voice muffled against his chest.

“Alright, now go to bed, okay?” He let go of her and she hopped off the bed and out the door. Seeing it shut behind her, Alex climbed under the sheets and lay on his back, exhaling sharply. She had been kept out of that conversation long enough, he guessed. It barely even had to be one with her. He let a few tears leak out before aggressively wiping them off his face and turning on his side. Man, did he need some shut-eye.

#julie and the phantoms #jatp #fanfic #jatp fanfic #willex #alive au #alex mercer #willie #luke patterson #reggie peters #bobby wilson #julie molina #rose molina #viva las vegas #familiar #fiddlepickdouglas

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littlemixnet · 4 years

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Little Mix on what it takes to survive being the most bullied band in pop

Still teenagers when they were catapulted to fame, superstardom came at a price for Little Mix. They open up to Francesca Babb about the soaring highs and crashing lows of the past nine years. It is the end of our YOU cover shoot, and I am facing the lesser-spotted sight of a barefaced Little Mix. Wet wipes swipe back and forth across their faces and, as the foundation departs in a deluge of coffee-coloured tissues, Jesy Nelson and Leigh-Anne Pinnock, both 29, and Jade Thirlwall and Perrie Edwards, both 27, visibly relax into their tracksuits and boyfriend jeans, shoulders dropping as they settle into themselves. I’m so used to seeing them contoured and camera ready that I assumed full glamour was their happy place. But perhaps the real Little Mix are not the war-paint-and-leotard-clad pop stars we’ve spent almost ten years watching grow up, but rather the four women they have become behind the glare of the spotlight. It’s those four women that I’m intrigued to meet. Since winning The X Factor nine years ago, there have been highs – selling over 50 million records globally, a significant percentage of which were self-penned, and creating enough accompanying make-up lines and merchandise to keep them and their families comfortable for the foreseeable future (recent reports suggest they have earned a combined £28.5 million to date). But there have also been lows – perpetual picking apart by both the public and the press, bullying and vitriol from online trolls. The most extreme cases of which led Jesy to attempt suicide during Little Mix’s early days in 2013 (she regards a tweet from the controversial Katie Hopkins – ‘Packet Mix have still got a chubber in their ranks. Less Little Mix. More Pick n Mix’ – as the ‘pinnacle point’ for her depression) and pushed Perrie into an ongoing struggle with anxiety. Fame has changed them. In some ways they are still youthful and silly – dropping phrases into conversation that wouldn’t be out of place in a playground – yet, in others, they are wise beyond their years, diving headfirst into battles on feminism, race and mental health. They’re fun enough to be light relief, smart enough to inspire a generation struggling with the pressures of youth and social media even before a pandemic was thrown at them, and ballsy enough to leave Simon Cowell’s record label because they didn’t feel he had their best interests at heart. ‘It’s never really been a cruise, has it?’ Jade ponders, a copy of social activist Bell Hooks’ 2002 feminist theory Communion: The Female Search For Love in her hand (not for show, I might add; when I ask her about it, she is well versed in its content). ‘It’s either been a really big high, or a really big low.’ Jesy, who has found herself the target of some of the cruelest contempt from the world outside Little Mix, agrees: ‘Some of the best times, some of the worst times.’ Comments on her weight, her looks, her place in the band, comments that she should take her own life, all led her into a deep depression and the aforementioned suicide attempt. Her documentary last year, Jesy Nelson: Odd One Out, revealed her journey through it all and, while harrowing, it is essential viewing on the realities of growing up in a world dominated by social media. ‘Before we got in the group, I never looked at myself and thought, “I don’t like that” – I don’t think any of us did. I never thought, “Oh god, I’m fat”, and then we got in the industry, and we all started wanting to change things about ourselves. It’s so sad. There are things [in the past] I definitely wish I hadn’t done,’ she says, referring to the suicide attempt, in which she took an overdose after a two-year battle with depression and an eating disorder. ‘But would I be the person I am today if I hadn’t gone through all of that?’ ‘There was a time when it was worse than it is now,’ adds Leigh-Anne, who has increasingly used her own Instagram channel to vocalise her experience of racism, both overt and underlying, throughout her time in the band. ‘I guess we’re taking steps forward, but I fear for my [future] daughters…’ ‘It makes me not want to have a kid,’ agrees Jesy. ‘Those insecurities that we all have now because of social media, imagine having that embedded in you as a child?’ Before you write them off as four very lucky girls ungratefully complaining about a lifestyle so many dream of, I should point out that they are fully aware of the paradox of their privilege. I suppose the point is, it’s not too much to ask to not be bullied to the point of hospitalisation as a by-product, is it? ‘Little Mix has changed our lives for the better, and our families’ lives, and we have achieved so much,’ says Perrie. ‘Don’t get me wrong,’ agrees Jesy (a warning I will hear repeatedly throughout our hour together, perhaps thanks to almost a decade of their quotes being blasted out of context for click-bait). ‘I’m not going to sit here and say we’ve got a terrible life, because we haven’t, but I do think our innocence was taken from us.’ It’s a while since the girls last did any press. Lockdown saw a halt to any activity they had planned, including the launch of their new talent show, BBC1’s Little Mix: The Search (in which they, well, search for a new band to mentor and join them on tour). But the time apart has not diminished their ability to finish each other’s sentences and jump to each other’s aid. It has, it seems, been really rather good for them and allowed them to come back fired up for the release of their sixth album, Confetti, which came out this week. ‘It was needed,’ agrees Jesy. ‘We’re never not with each other and we’re always busy. Our mornings start early, we finish really late.’ Being at home has meant more time spent with their families, with Jade even starting her own show on MTV with her mum Norma. Called Served!, the self-filmed series saw the pair interview celebrity drag queens and challenge each other to cooking competitions. ‘I love drag culture,’ she says, ‘and me mam was by herself in lockdown, so I thought it’d be something nice to keep her entertained.’ ‘Your mum could be on Loose Women,’ Leigh-Anne muses. ‘Imagine our mams on a show!’ shrieks Jade. ‘Nobody else would get a word in edgeways with my mam,’ laughs Perrie. ‘Ooh, when Debbie goes off on Twitter,’ says Jade, of Perrie’s mum’s habit of weighing in on comments from haters. ‘My mam will text me, have you seen Debbie’s been going off on someone!’ It is interesting that all four talk frequently about their mums throughout our chat, and yet there is no mention of fathers. While their mums often appear on Instagram, a sighting of Perrie’s dad on her 23rd birthday was extremely rare. Perhaps the Little Mix dads’ absence in the narrative is because the four girls were predominantly raised by their mothers (all of their parents separated when they were younger), and another reason the group’s bond is so tight. Little Mix are each other’s wall of arms, their own personal bodyguards. Jesy, they unanimously agree, is Scary Mix (although I find her a delight), which is interesting given her own inability to bat off other people’s words. ‘When it’s you on your own dealing with something personally,’ Jesy says, ‘It’s completely different. You feel so vulnerable alone, but we are a force when we’re together.’ It’s not hard to see, in today’s social-media obsessed society where there is little retribution for cruelty, why four attractive, successful young women, with attractive, successful young boyfriends (two footballers – Perrie dates Liverpool’s Alex Oxlade-Chamberlain, Leigh-Anne is engaged to Watford’s Andre Gray – while Jade is with Rizzle Kicks singer Jordan Stephens and Jesy is going out with Our Girl actor Sean Sagar), who seem to be living a dream life have found themselves at the heart of a whirlwind of vitriol. There was the infamous spat with Piers Morgan, in which he mocked them for posing naked but for the insults that have been hurled at them painted on their bodies. He accused them of using sex to sell records and called them ‘foul-mouthed, talentless, clothes-allergic little dimwits’, which is not how I find them to be. ‘I take Piers with a pinch of salt,’ Jesy says, rolling her eyes. ‘He does it to cause drama, so I take no notice. When we won The X Factor, we didn’t look like a generic girl band: we’re all different shapes and sizes, we didn’t dress sexy, so immediately everyone was, “What’s this?”’ ‘Usually, when you see a girl band, they’re perfection, they have six-packs – and we didn’t,’ continues Jesy. ‘People saw us as kids, so even though we’re now women, people still think of us that way, so when we come out on stage in leotards, they think, “That’s disgusting!”’ ‘One Direction didn’t get the s**t we get, because they’re men,’ states Leigh-Anne. ‘It’s like, “They’re four girls, let’s come at them”. As soon as it’s girls, they think, “Oh you slag.”’ ‘When it’s men, it’s celebrated, but the minute women sexualise themselves and feel powerful doing it, we’re told to rein it in,’ adds Jade. ‘We’re conditioned to think that women are there to be these innocent and pure beings and the minute you step out of that, it’s carnage.’ Little Mix, however, are not scared of embracing that carnage and of sparking a debate. For their show The Search, Jade describes how it was important for them to set the tone on respect when each new person auditioned. ‘Because we are small women, it’s important to show people that they need to respect us, that we know what we’re talking about and we need to be listened to,’ she says. ‘There’s no nastiness,’ continues Jesy about the show, which has been praised for modernising and freshening up the age-old TV format. ‘There’s no making anyone feel uncomfortable for entertainment.’ They also insisted a large part of their budget be dedicated to looking after the contestants’ mental health, understanding, first hand, the pitfalls of talent shows. The Search is not their first attempt at diversifying their talent. As a group, they have LMX make-up line and also a perfume, Style By Little Mix. Subsequently, they have become expert businesswomen, refusing to make the mistakes of pop groups past, so often left completely penniless at the end of their careers. ‘I remember walking into an early label meeting and saying, “This is who we want to be, this is the campaign we want, this is the imagery we want,”’ says Jade. ‘We knew our brand from the get go and we very much steered that ship.’ It’s a long way from their (as Jesy puts it) ‘working-class backgrounds’. Since joining the band, each one has bought their mum a house and, while their tale is not entirely rags to riches, the jump from Primark to Prada in recent years has certainly been significant. When it comes to business, Perrie describes herself and Leigh-Anne as the ones who will often seek a compromise in difficult situations, while they send Jesy and Jade in when deals need to be made. ‘Jesy’s the badass,’ Perrie laughs. ‘Whenever I’m scared, I’ll stand behind her. She’s the one who puts her foot down in a boardroom full of men and says, “It’s going to be this way.” But we pick our battles. We don’t just argue about every decision – it’s when we feel we have to.’ ‘Nobody could say that we are difficult, and if they do, they’re lying,’ says Leigh-Anne adamantly. Adds Jesy: ‘We know what we want, and we know what kids want.’ Little Mix have lived over a third of their lives in the spotlight. They’ve seen how things work, how things don’t, and they’ve learnt how to cope with it all. The lows may have been spectacularly low, but the highs have surpassed any of their expectations. Their story is not your classic fairytale, but it’s one they have learnt they can write their own ending for. If the Little Mix I meet today is anything to go by, I wouldn’t expect that ending to come any time soon. Little Mix’s new album Confetti is out now. Their movie LM5: The Tour Film will be in cinemas nationwide on 21 and 22 November.

#little mix #you magazine 2020 #article #2020 #confetti promo

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ibijau · 4 years

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Deathbed Wedding pt3

Nie Huaisang meets with his friends, and gets to ask about certain rumours he's heard

Also on AO3

Even though he had probably left earlier than anyone else, Nie Huaisang was still late to reach the meeting point, and the last one to arrive. That, of course, was not exactly unusual. Wen Chao looked as annoyed as ever about it.

"You didn't bring anyone?" Wen Chao snapped at him in lieu of greeting. "What's even the point of inviting you if you don't also bring some competent people with you?"

"Some other business came up," Nie Huaisang lied. "The others had to stay behind to take care of it, but I asked to still come here. I didn't want to disrespect you."

"I wouldn't even have noticed your absence," Wen Chao retorted.

Nie Huaisang only smiled politely. They both knew that was a lie.

Wen Chao liked to organise grand Night Hunts for the young masters of other sects to join. With an older brother as talented as Wen Xu, it was an easy way for him to distinguish himself and make sure he didn’t fade into obscurity, which his personality wouldn’t have borne. Sadly, that same personality made it difficult for anyone to put up with him. To make it worse, there were a number of grudges on-going between the young masters of their generation, and while Wen Chao liked to boast he had the heirs of all the Great Sects coming to his Night Hunts, he lacked the diplomacy to make everyone really work together.

Meanwhile Nie Huaisang was desperately in need of joining every Night Hunt he could, and he had the skill of getting along with anyone, no matter how much he disliked them. Besides, living in an environment like Qinghe Nie had taught him early on how to deal with personal conflicts, and he was pretty good at stopping fights before they could start (or at making them worse if it suited him).

Unless Wen Chao wanted to deal with Wei Wuxian and Jin Zixuan's constant arguing, or with Jiang Cheng and Lan Wangji's silent feud, or with everyone’s dislike of him, then he needed Nie Huaisang at his damn Night Hunts.

And since Nie Huaisang was there at last, they could finally head out toward the location of the actual Night Hunt. Although he had many questions for Lan Wangji, and a few for Jiang Cheng as well, Nie Huaisang decided to fly next to Jin Zixuan. The conversations he needed to have with his other friends would likely have been too intense, and he wasn’t sure he could have mustered enough focus to continue flying his sabre at the same time, not when he was already a little tired. Jin Zixuan, thankfully, always appreciated a little silent companionship, and did not mind that Nie Huaisang barely said ten words to him the entire time.

It took them a good half day of flying to get where Wen Chao swore the monster they’re going to hunt has made its den. He refused to give them any details about the creature in question of course, because Wen Chao thrived on surprising people with his Night Hunts, even if it sometimes got a little dangerous as a result… but that was part of why they all came back. Wen Chao was a prick, but he always organised such good Night Hunts.

This one wasn’t off to a great start though, with Wen Chao telling them they needed to start looking for a cave somewhere in the mountain they’d just reached. It was unlike him to not know more precisely where the creature they were after had made its den, but he hyped it so well that nobody really minded. Nie Huaisang personally would have loved to rest a little first, but since nobody else seemed tired, he simply couldn’t start complaining. It was a good way to work on his endurance, he decided.

As everyone divided in small groups to look for that cave, Nie Huaisang dumped Jin Zixuan who he’d been flying with, and went to join Lan Wangji, Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng.

“Can I search with you?” he asked innocently, trying to match their fast walking pace. “It’s been a while since I’ve seen any of you, so I thought we could catch up.”

“You saw us not two months ago,” Wei Wuxian retorted with a grin. “How are your ribs, by the way?”

Nie Huaisang pouted as he fell in step with them, and patted the right side of his body.

“They healed quite nicely, and da-ge never realised they were cracked instead of just bruised.”

Of course, Nie Mingjue had still scolded him a lot, even for what he’d thought to be only a minor injury. Which was very unfair, even Jiang Cheng had said it had been bad luck that day, and Jiang Cheng never said anything nice if he didn’t mean it.

Lan Wangji, who in some respects was a lot like Nie Mingjue, slowed down and frowned upon hearing of that injury.

“Nie gongzi was hurt?” he asked. The ‘again’ was left out, but so heavily implied that Nie Huaisang still heard it.

“Just a little, nothing to worry about,” Nie Huaisang replied with a bright smile. “I’m doing better and better on those Night Hunts, and everyone gets a little bruised here and there, especially at first. It’s all very normal.”

Lan Wangji’s frown deepened, and Nie Huaisang thought it better to quickly breach the subject that actually interested him before he had to deal with a lecture on safety. He hadn’t left his brother’s home just to be bothered by his friends as well.

“So, Wangji-xiong, how is your brother these days?”

Immediately, the atmosphere changed. Lan Wangji’s expression hardened, while Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian exchanged a nervous glance. Nie Huaisang noticed it, and forced himself to continue smiling as if he couldn’t see it.

“I do hope he’s well,” he said lightly. “And your uncle too. Your father as well, I suppose,” he added with a small laugh. “I haven’t had much news from Gusu lately, how sad. Won’t you tell me what’s happening in the Cloud Recesses?”

The other three boys tense further, avoiding his eyes. Nie Huaisang felt his cheeks start to hurt from the effort of keeping his smile on, but he refused to break. He refused to ask if the rumours were really true.

He didn’t need to ask when their faces said it all.

He didn’t want to ask, but he wanted to hear the answer anyway.

“Nie-xiong, don’t play that game,” Wei Wuxian snapped, poking him in the side, eliciting a slight grimace. His ribs were almost fully healed, but still a little sensitive. “You know it’s annoying when you pretend not to know things. You’ve heard already, haven’t you?”

“Only fools listen to gossip, Wei-xiong,” Nie Huaisang, fighting the impulse to take out a fan to comfort himself. “What am I supposed to know?”

Wei Wuxian, in a rare moment of good sense, bit his lip to stay silent. He looked at Jiang Cheng, even more uneasy than himself, then at Lan Wangji, who was visibly uncomfortable as well.

It was Lan Wangji who broke first. Gusu Lan’s rules demanded honesty, after all.

“Father has been going to Lotus Piers recently,” he announced. “There is discussion of an engagement between xiongzhang and Jiang guniang.”

Nie Huaisang stumbled against a tree root and would have fallen face first if Jiang Cheng hadn't caught him.

Even if rumours had reached him, to hear it said so plainly from Lan Wangji was more than he truly felt really to handle. It shouldn’t have surprised him though.

Back then, Qingheng-Jun had made it clear that he wasn’t willing to let his sons marry just anyone. Ideally he preferred for them to have a spouse who would bear them children (which almost had made Nie Huaisang laugh when he’d heard it: Lan Xichen might agree out of duty, but good luck getting Lan Wangji to obey). He was not entirely opposed to a sterile union though, as long as that spouse agreed to the presence of concubines to continue the line (Nie Huaisang and Lan Xichen, who had already discussed the issue before even asking for that engagement, had already figured it would be required).

The real problem though, the issue that had been a deal-breaker for Qingheng-Jun when Nie Mingjue had approached him on behalf of his half-brother, was that he believed his sons should only marry someone of great cultivation skill, as he was convinced that an unbalanced match could only lead to trouble down the line.

Nie Mingjue had argued that it would be a good political alliance, that Nie Huaisang brought other skills to the table, that the two young people had been deeply in love for close to two years at that point, but none of it had mattered. Qingheng-Jun had rejected the engagement, because Nie Huaisang just wasn’t good enough.

For months now Nie Huaisang, furious and humiliated that the qualities he did have were overlooked, had worked hard to improve himself and show Qingheng-Jun that he was worthy of Lan Xichen. He was getting there, he knew he was getting there, if only he could get a little more time, a few more Night Hunts, another couple of chances to prove that he could be a real cultivator when he just bothered...

“It’s nothing certain yet,” Jiang Cheng remarked when Nie Huaisang remained silent for too long. “My mother is interested, but my father is saying he didn’t break off the engagement with Jin Zixuan just to push my sister in the arms of another boy who wouldn’t favour her.”

“Xiongzhang is unwilling,” Lan Wangji agreed. “There have been arguments. Xiongzhang raised his voice against father.”

Nie Huaisang managed a weak smile. Lan Xichen wasn’t the sort to stand up against his elders, least of all against a father who rarely meddled in his sons’ lives but expected total obedience when he did. This situation was less than ideal, but Nie Huaisang felt a twisted sort of joy upon hearing that in his own way, Lan Xichen too was fighting for their future.

Still, even if negotiations with the Jiangs didn’t work out in the end, it was clear now that Qingheng-Jun was looking to marry his son, and there would be plenty of candidates. Nie Huaisang really needed to step up and do something extraordinary, and he needed to do it soon.

“Let's keep looking for that cave,” he said, a new spring in his step. “I don't want Wen Chao to find it first, you know he's just going to be insufferable if he does!”

The other three agreed, and redoubled their efforts, though they also all kept an eye on Nie Huaisang who, for once, didn't notice it. He had bigger things to worry about.

That monster Wen Chao had promised them had better be something truly legendary, because Nie Huaisang had a father-in-law to convince.

#xisang #nie huaisang #lan xichen #lan wangji #wei wuxian #mdzs #jau writes #deathbed wedding au #drama! at the night hunt

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i-like-plan-m · 4 years

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Something I've been thinking about is what if Madame Yu was just a bit more obvious in how much she hates wwx, and wwx ran away from Lotus Pier? It's clear his siblings matter more to him than anything else and he hates causing them strife. If he believes that he's the cause, he'd take steps to make them happy, right? I want to write story about that but I dont think I have the ability. If you ever wanted to write something like that I would be overjoyed to read it! - an0n

[Ao3] [Chapter 1/3]

I love this, thank you!! _____________________

“What are you doing?”

It was the fear in Jiang Cheng’s voice that stopped him.

Madam Yu’s last words to him still ringing in his ears, Wei Wuxian pasted on a cheery smile and spun on his heel to face his... to face Jiang Cheng.

“Ah,” he said on a little laugh. “Jiang Cheng…”

“She didn’t mean it,” Jiang Cheng said desperately, stumbling towards him with a panicked edge to his words. “You know that. She wasn’t serious, it’s just the same stuff as always.”

“I know,” Wei Wuxian said gently. That was exactly the problem. Madam Yu’s hurled abuse at her children hurt them, and Wei Wuxian was too convenient of an excuse for her to ever pass up. She would never stop, not while he was there to set her off again.

“You can’t leave,” Jiang Cheng said, curling a fist in the front of his robes and holding tight like he could keep Wei Wuxian in Lotus Pier if he just held on tight enough.

“Madam Yu is right,” Wei Wuxian said with a sad smile, reaching up to cover Jiang Cheng’s hand with his own. “I’ve spent too long causing trouble for her and the sect to stay any longer. I shouldn’t be a burden for you all anymore.”

“You’re not a-- did you even tell jiejie? Does she know you’re leaving?” He seized on Jiang Yanli, knowing that she was his weak point. “She doesn't know, does she? Were you just going to disappear?”

Wei Wuxian ached at the thought of Jiang Yanli, of never seeing her again or having her hate him for leaving. But Madam Yu had been clear-- she no longer wanted him at Lotus Pier. He’d heard such things from her before, basically ever since he’d been brought back by Jiang Fengmian, but Madam Yu’s use of Wei Wuxian as a way to torment and ridicule Jiang Cheng had only escalated since their return from the lecture at Cloud Recesses.

Without him, she would have fewer things to be angry about, and less anger to take out on her children and husband.

“I left shijie a letter,” Wei Wuxian said, swallowing roughly. He reached down to pick up his bag, Jiang Cheng still clinging to him, and took one last look around his room. He hoped whoever got it next appreciated the art carvings, the hidden stash of snacks and alcohol under the floorboard, the small, colorful trinkets he’d collected over the years.

Or maybe they would get rid of it all, erasing the signs that he’d ever existed here.

“Then go give it to her yourself,” Jiang Cheng snapped.

“I can’t,” Wei Wuxian said truthfully. He tried to smile, felt it waver in the face of Jiang Cheng’s betrayed expression. “It’s time for me to go, shidi. Ah, and think of it this way! Now you can have dogs again.”

“I don’t want the fucking dogs,” Jiang Cheng choked out. “I want you to stay here. You promised we would be brothers, in this life and the next. You promised.”

Yes, he had. But Madam Yu had told him she’d had enough of him taking advantage of their family, of him thinking himself a part of it when in fact he was nothing but a burden. When he did nothing but make Jiang Cheng and by extension their sect look bad.

So. Better to leave now under his own power before the rest of them started to feel the same, or Madam Yu made Jiang Cheng hate himself and resent Wei Wuxian even more than he already did.

“I’m sorry,” was all he could say. A thousand words between them and not a single one spoken, their relationship permanently fractured by the competition neither of them had signed up for, that neither of them had ever wanted.

Wei Wuxian’s presence at Lotus Pier made Jiang Cheng’s life harder. There was no way around the truth of it.

Jiang Cheng’s grip went slack, as though he realized that this was really happening, that his brother was leaving him behind. Wei Wuxian saw stark pain in his eyes before they shuttered, anger becoming his armor against such hurt.

“Fine,” he spat, but the hitch in his breath betrayed him. “If you want to leave so bad, then just go.”

“Jiang Cheng,” Wei Wuxian said, torn to pieces at the anguish in his brother’s voice. “I don’t want to leave you or shijie. But…”

Jiang Cheng looked away. They both knew the real reason he was leaving. Coming to terms with it would be hard for both of them.

“I’ll write,” Wei Wuxian offered quietly. “If… if you want.”

“You’d fucking better write,” Jiang Cheng said, swiping impatiently at his damp cheeks. There was a brief pause, the tension softening into a quiet, shared grief. “Where will you go?”

“Who knows!” Wei Wuxian said, trying for cheerful and sounding uncertain instead. “There’s a whole world out there, you know. Plenty of trouble to find.”

Jiang Cheng made a familiar exasperated sound that made him want to laugh. “Weekly letters,” he threatened. “Or I’m coming to find you.”

Wei Wuxian’s smile was a little more genuine this time. “I can do that.” He hesitated, then added, “Can you…”

“I’ll tell jiejie,” Jiang Cheng said quietly.

“Thank you.” Wei Wuxian enveloped him in a hug, squeezing his eyes shut against the tears that threatened when Jiang Cheng gripped him back hard enough to bruise.

“I will see you again,” he promised, and felt the eyes of his brother watch him leave.

~*~

His new mantle of rogue cultivator hurt a little less when he thought of his parents. They hadn’t belonged to a sect after they married, and he wondered if they’d been happy to freely wander the world.

His one clear memory of them made him think so. There’d been laughter, and warmth, and a sense of safety and security that Wei Wuxian found himself wishing for during those first few weeks after leaving Lotus Pier.

Too much freedom, he’d discovered, was a hard adjustment to make. He had no responsibilities other than finding food and water, no duties or chores around a sect, and no sect leader to answer to.

He’d considered, briefly, going to Gusu. The lecture would be over by now, the guest disciples returned home. He wondered if Lan Zhan was happier now that the Cloud Recesses was quiet again. He wondered if Lan Zhan would even want to see him.

But after losing his home so abruptly, Wei Wuxian found that he did not want to go where he was not wanted. Usually he wouldn’t pay any attention to it, would not care what others thought of him or his presence, but now…

Well. He’d been kicked out of Cloud Recesses. Out of Lotus Pier. Neither would welcome him now. Maybe he could go to Qinghe and accomplish the trifecta of banishment.

The thought would be funnier if he weren’t so cold and hungry.

There was a trick to surviving as a rogue cultivator, and that was bartering. Larger towns were typically protected by sect cultivators who could banish spirits or ghosts. Smaller villages usually could not afford such services, so they would trade shelter and a hot meal for a cultivator’s help.

Wei Wuxian hadn’t yet made it far enough away from Yunmeng territory to find these villages. Mostly he hunted or fished to feed himself, and slept out in the open since he couldn’t afford to stay at an inn. It was a far stretch from his days in Yunmeng, never wondering where he would sleep or when his next meal would come.

He was lost in a way he hadn’t been since a recently orphaned child living on the streets and eating trash to survive. Funny, how these things came back full circle.

Wei Wuxian poked at his miserable little fire, hunched over it in the fading light within the forest to soak in the weak warmth it emitted. The wood was too wet to truly burn, still damp from the downpour earlier.

So was he, as a matter of fact. His wet robes clung to him uncomfortably, and he would take them off to let them dry if the descending night weren’t so cold.

Quiet voices had him lurching to his feet, Suibian in hand as he warily scanned the heavy shadows thrown by the trees. They were coming closer, light footsteps that echoed through the forest and hid the direction of their approach.

And then white robes bled out of the darkness, his heart skipped a beat in breathless, astonished hope… and then fell at the sight of a stranger’s face. The man’s companion wore dark robes like his own, a curious pair that moved in sync and spoke without words.

“Our apologies, Young Master. We did not realize there were others so deep into the forest,” the white-robed man said with a polite bow.

Wei Wuxian returned it, noting with a spark of interest that they carried swords that marked them as cultivators. “No apology necessary. I am Wei Wuxian,” he said, rising from the bow. “I was hunting for dinner and didn’t realize how far I’d walked before the sun set.” More like he’d had nothing to turn back for.

“My name is Xiao Xingchen, and my companion is Song Lan.” Xiao Xingchen looked around his campsite with a mild look of curiosity. “Are you traveling alone?”

“I am,” he said, his smile dimming despite his best efforts.

Song Lan studied him for a moment, then shared another brief, wordless conversation with Xiao Xingchen. “Do you have a destination in mind, Master Wei?”

“Ah… no? I’m just wandering,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck.

“You are welcome to travel with us, if you wish,” Song Lan offered. “Rogue cultivating can be dangerous and challenging on your own.”

Wei Wuxian looked uncertainly between them, remembering his recent vow to stop going where he wasn’t wanted. These two were obviously close, and he wondered if he would be intruding.

“As Song Lan said,” Xiao Xingchen added at Wei Wuxian’s hesitation. “You are welcome to join us.”

“Yes,” Wei Wuxian decided, spirits lifting. “I would appreciate your company.”

“We are headed for a nearby town,” Song Lan said. “Do you need to rest, or can you make it through the rest of the forest tonight?”

Wei Wuxian stomped the dying fire out and eagerly grabbed his bag. “No need to wait!” He followed them through the forest, grateful to have their company. The world seemed less lonely all of a sudden, and the companionship was a buoy for his spirits.

“Have you two been traveling together long?” He asked.

“We met a few years ago. I was raised in Baixue Temple,” Song Lan said, drifting gracefully over the uneven ground. “And Xiao Xingchen was a disciple of Baoshan Sanren.”

Wei Wuxian made a startled sound and nearly tripped over his own feet. Song Lan steadied him and traded a look with Xiao Xingchen over his head.

“Baoshan Sanren?” Wei Wuxian asked, stunned by the reminder that he had family left in the world.

“Yes,” Xiao Xingchen said, eyeing him with some concern. “Are you familiar with her?”

“She is my grandmother,” Wei Wuxian said distantly.

Xiao Xingchen’s eyes widened. “You are the son of Cangse Sanren? Adopted into the Jiang Sect as a child?” Wei Wuxian nodded, and Xiao Xingchen’s surprise morphed into a smile. “Your grandmother wishes to meet you, Wei Wuxian.”

Wei Wuxian was a little surprised she even knew he existed. “She does?”

“Yes, she does,” Xiao Xingchen said, smile lines crinkling at the corner of his eyes. “I can tell you where to find her, if you wish.”

What else did he have? No place to call home, no family left other than the immortal cultivator secluded on her celestial mountain-- and the part of his heart that urged him to find her, the only ones left in their line.

“There is no hurry,” Xiao Xingchen said gently when the silence stretched too long. “You are still welcome to travel with us as long as you wish. Your grandmother is a patient woman; you can take as long as you need.”

Wei Wuxian swallowed hard and paused to bow to him. “Thank you, Master Xiao. I… I think one day soon I would like to know how to find her.”

Xiao Xingchen nodded. “You need only ask.”

Wei Wuxian let the pair lead him out of the dark, unknown forest, with something like hope burning in his chest.

#anon #asks #the untamed #mdzs #wei wuxian #lan wangji #jiang cheng #xiao xingchen #song lan #wei ying #lan zhan #my fics #my writing

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alessandriana · 4 years

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For @missximagination! This may or may not be precisely what you wanted, haha. I got shoved under an unexpected truckload of feels when I started thinking about Jin Ling having to go back and forth between the Jin and the Jiang all the time, and added in the mix was also this absolutely gorgeous art by @yutaan, and-- yeah. So this is mostly a large dose of Jiang Cheng and Jin Ling feels, with some added JGY & JC interaction.

***

Jin Ling was bawling by the time Jiang Cheng crossed the border between Yunmeng and Lanling. Jiang Cheng was halfway to doing the same, though it manifested mostly as a fierce scowl that made his face ache and only got worse as the ridiculous excess that was Carp Tower came into view on the horizon.

"I don't wanna," Jin Ling sobbed, face red and miserable where it was pressed into Jiang Cheng's shoulder. At six years old, he was old enough to know what was happening and too young to understand why. "I want to go home, I want to go swimming and play with the fishes and--" he hiccuped, "and I don't like it there, no one likes me, I wanna stay with you, jiujiu."

Okay, fuck. Jiang Cheng's arms tightened around Jin Ling and he descended abruptly out of the air to land in someone's field. Grass rose knee-high, nearly swallowing Jin Ling entirely as Jiang Cheng set him down and he flopped onto his stomach to cry into the dirt. Jiang Cheng crouched down in front of him, then sat down in the dirt himself, ignoring what it would do to his clothing and the way Jin Guangyao would very politely refrain from commenting on it while the rest of his retinue giggled behind their hands.

"Hey, hey, A-Ling," he said, putting a hand on Jin Ling's back, and then wincing as Jin Ling flinched away. "I'm sorry. I know you want to stay at Lotus Pier-- I want you to stay at Lotus Pier--" god, did he-- "but I don't have a choice."

Jin Ling lifted his face, smeared with tears, and said, "Don't you want me?"

Fuck! Jiang Cheng reached out and gathered Jin Ling into his lap until Jin Ling finally turned and wrapped his arms tightly around his jiujiu's neck. Jiang Cheng buried his face against Jin Ling's hair and closed his eyes against the hot press of tears. His jaw felt like it was going to crack, he was clenching it so hard. "I want you a lot, A-Ling," he managed. "You have no idea how much."

The compromise he had made with Lanling Jin had been simple. By all rights, A-Ling belonged with his father's side of the family. They could have shut him up in Carp Tower and only allowed Jiang Cheng to visit once a year, had they been so inclined. But Jin Guangshan had seen an opportunity in the depths of Jiang Cheng's grief, and he'd offered a deal: Jin Ling would spend six months of the year in Yunmeng, and six months of the year in Lanling. In exchange, Jiang Cheng had promised to make Jin Ling his heir, and neither marry nor sire any children of his own.

It was a nearly ruinous deal. If Jin Ling inherited, Lanling Jin would gain significant control over the Jiang. They would lose their independence, becoming little more than another subordinate sect-- albeit a wealthy one. Jiang Cheng's mother would have called him a sentimental fool for even contemplating it.

Faced with losing the only remaining member of his family, Jiang Cheng had taken the deal in a heartbeat.

Jin Ling, of course, being six years old, was aware of none of this. All he knew was that every six months like clockwork, Jiang Cheng dropped him off at Carp Tower and didn't look back.

Jiang Cheng rubbed Jin Ling's back and let him cry until he'd exhausted himself. They were going to be late, but that didn't matter. Jiang Cheng's head was pounding with the effort of not giving into his own emotions.

Once Jin Ling's crying had tapered off except for the occasional wet sniffle, Jiang Cheng took out a handkerchief and began methodically wiping off his face until it was clean again. The mud on both their clothes mostly came off with some brushing and a quick spell A-Jie had taught him, though there wasn't much he could do about the wrinkles. It would do.

Then Jiang Cheng lifted Jin Ling into his arms, pulled out Sandu, and lifted back into the air.

Jin Guangyao was waiting for them at the top of the staircase at Carp Tower, as always. The ladies who were in charge of taking care of Jin Ling at Lanling-- Jin Guangyao himself did not, of course, take care of children on his own-- were standing behind him; they bowed with utmost respect, but Jiang Cheng could see the covert glances they were throwing at his clothing.

"Jiang-zongzhu," Jin Guangyao said, ever-polite. "I'm so glad you made it safely. I trust your trip was uneventful?"

"Jin-zongzhu," Jiang Cheng greeted in return. He'd managed to reduce his scowl to something more neutral, though the effort had been considerable. It would do neither of them any good for him to appear visibly distressed-- Jin Guangyao might be less of an outright bastard than his father, but he would have no compunctions about using it to wring more concessions out of the Jiang. "It was fine. My apologies for being late. The weather was good, so we stopped to look at some animals A-Ling wanted to see."

Well, Jin Ling had probably seen some bugs when he'd had his face in the dirt, anyways.

"It's no trouble, I assure you. I'm sure he enjoyed that. Clearly he's very tired out!" Jin Guangyao smiled at where Jin Ling was practically passed out in Jiang Cheng's arms.

That was Jiang Cheng's cue; he lifted Jin Ling off his shoulder. One of the ladies stepped forward, as if to take him, but Jiang Cheng set Jin Ling on his feet instead and knelt down in front of him with a hand under his arm until he was awake enough to support himself.

"A-Ling, it's time for me to go," Jiang Cheng said seriously. "Are you going to be good for your xiao-shushu?"

Jin Ling rubbed his eyes with the back of his wrist, yawning. He looked back and forth between Jiang Cheng and Jin Guangyao. For a moment Jiang Cheng thought he was going to start crying again, but then he just nodded, downcast.

"A-Ling," Jin Guangyao said, as he bent down as well and reached into his sleeve to pull something out, "do you want to see what I brought you?" It was a shining metal carp, enameled in orange and yellow, with articulated joints that caused it to wiggle like a real fish when you moved it. Jin Ling's eyes brightened and he reached for it with grasping hands, completely and utterly distracted.

"Say thank you to your uncle first," Jiang Cheng snapped. On the one hand, he was more than a little aggravated by Jin Guangyao's obvious attempt at bribing his way into Jin Ling's affections-- it was not the first time, and Jin Ling was starting to show signs of being spoiled. On the other hand, if it took that sad look off his face, Jiang Cheng would have bought a hundred more fish just like it.

Jin Ling dropped into a credible bow, and said, "Thank you, xiao-shushu."

"You're very welcome, A-Ling." Jin Guangyao handed over the fish, and Jin Ling started waving it around, delighted.

Jiang Cheng stood, hoping to get away while Jin Ling wasn't paying attention. Jin Guangyao rose as well, and walked with Jiang Cheng a few feet towards the stairs. "You're more than welcome to stay for dinner, or even a few days," he said. "We'd be happy to have you. Jin Ling could show you the new training field we put in in the south wing for him; the training master is going to start him learning how to shoot this time, I understand."

The last time Jiang Cheng had taken him up on that offer, Jiang Cheng had left having agreed to lower the tariffs they charged Lanling by five percent in exchange for having Jin Ling come home during the Spring Festival. So. Better to get out now, before he truly bargained away the rest of the Jiang Sect. "I appreciate your kind offer," he said, and with a tiny bit of malicious gladness added, "Actually, I started teaching him how to use a bow earlier this year. But I'm sure he'll benefit from Lanling Jin's expert instruction as well."

Jin Guangyao's pleasant expression flickered, then returned. He said, "How wonderful! I'm sure he could have no better teacher than yourself. Jiang-zongzhu is well known to be the best archer in Yunmeng."

A muscle in Jiang Cheng's jaw jumped as he read the unspoken coda: now that Wei Wuxian is dead. But there was no way to tell if that jab had been intentional or not. "You're too kind." He added, "I'll take my leave now."

"Jiujiu!"

Jiang Cheng turned, and caught Jin Ling just as he flung himself at Jiang Cheng, that stupid fish still clutched in his grubby hands. They clung to each other, and for a minute Jiang Cheng let himself not care what their audience thought.

But it couldn't last forever. Finally Jiang Cheng had to peel himself away. "Hey, A-Ling, no crying in public," he said, roughly.

Jin Ling sniffled. "Yes, jiujiu," he said, face solemn.

"Good kid." Jiang Cheng stood, ignoring Jin Guangyao, ignoring the stupid retainers who were probably laughing at him. "I'll see you in three months for the Spring Festival," he said. "Then you'll be back in Yunmeng for the summer. Got it?"

"Uh-huh."

And with that Jiang Cheng turned to go, because if he didn't leave right then he was going to start crying in public.

Carp Tower faded behind him.

Someday Jin Ling would grow used to this, to being shuttled between families, to spending half his life in one clan and the rest in another.

Jiang Cheng wasn't certain he ever would.

#the untamed #mdzs #jiang cheng #jin ling #jin guangyao

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robininthelabyrinth · 4 years

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Tedious Joys - Chapter 4 -

- Ao3 link -

It had been an inauspicious year to begin with.

A poor harvest led to famine among the common people, which in turn created conditions ripe for evil creatures of all sorts; the night-hunts that were often treated as playful competition by the cultivation world became more like the boring drudgery of everyday work, disciples setting off in packs on a regular basis all over, time and time again. The tension wore on the sects, some more than others, and dozens of small disputes began to rise up, needing to be dealt with. Lan Qiren’s schedule became busy, and then busier, and then became overwhelming; he was forced to discard one pastime after another in his efforts to hold back the rising tide, and in the end sacrificed sleep and sometimes meals to preserve only two: playing for Jiwei and spending time with his nephews.

It meant that he was unprepared, both mentally and physically, for word of the death of Cangse Sanren and her husband, which took over two years to finally come to ears of the Great Sects – such a shocking failure of information that Lan Qiren briefly wondered if it had been concealed intentionally.

The sudden shock of grief hit him hard.

He tried to convince himself that he had expected it, that she had expected it, that at least her son was now safe in the Lotus Pier, and yet all he could think about was that he had one less friend in the world. The sadness interfered with his focus, creeping in at all hours, uncontrollable, until one evening he was playing guqin with his nephews and looked up to find them both weeping uncontrollably from the music he was playing. When he tried to stop mid-song, he abruptly collapsed, and upon waking was informed that he had become feverish at some point in the night.

His sect doctors advised him to go into seclusion until he could control himself.

Lan Qiren refused.

They advised him again, this time with greater insistence, and with the support of his sect elders.

“Tell them to fuck off,” Lao Nie suggested, pouring a calming tea that he’d brought from Qinghe.

He’d come to visit with his sons, Nie Mingjue disappearing with Lan Xichen as always and Nie Huaisang engaged in the newest stage in his eternal battle of wills with Lan Wangji over a game of weiqi that they were both taking far, far too seriously.

(Despite knowing Lan Wangji and indeed Nie Huaisang better than most people alive, Lan Qiren honestly could not determine whether the two of them despised each other or were close friends. Lao Nie claimed the answer was both, simultaneously, but Lan Qiren didn’t understand that at all.)

“That is not how we do things here,” Lan Qiren said, accepting a cup. It was rude for him to allow a fellow sect leader who was his guest to serve him, rather than the other way around, but he had a headache from the persistent fever and exhaustion that was even more persistent, the boundless river of grief in his heart translating into physical agony, and anyway Lao Nie hadn’t exactly asked permission before proceeding. “It would be more appropriate for me to present a well-reasoned case for it not being necessary, based on rules, authority, and precedent.”

“Except you can’t put one together because you’re upset and tired,” Lao Nie said with a snort. “That’s stupid. You’re overworked, stretched too thin, you just found out that your friend is dead – you need sleep, not seclusion. Anyway, what happens if you do go into seclusion? Aren’t they always saying they need you to stick around to be Sect Leader so desperately?”

Lan Qiren rubbed his eyes. “It would not be true seclusion. I would be expected to continue certain parts of the work.”

“You’re joking.”

“It would be primarily administrative correspondence –”

“By that token, your brother ought to do it!”

Lan Qiren glared. “It’s not the same and you know it. And they are not wrong that I need rest.”

“From what I recall of what you’ve told me about your sect’s practice of seclusion, that’s not rest,” Lao Nie said acidly. “Surely there’s something I can do to help. I could send over some of my disciples…”

“Excellent idea,” Lan Qiren said, rolling his eyes. “We can replace all those rumors that I’ve been secretly pining for years over my best female friend with ones regarding my best male friend.”

“It is a little ‘hero rushes to save the lady’, isn’t it?” Lao Nie said thoughtfully, shaking his head in amusement. “But seriously, I came here for a reason, and it’s not Jiwei or A-Jue or anything like that. You’re always trying to help me, Qiren. For once, let me help you.”

Lan Qiren would normally protest this – because Lao Nie had so done many things for him over the years that it was an incorrect statement, because he hated the helpless feeling of letting someone do things for him, because that wasn’t something sect leaders did for each other – but he was tired and he feared seclusion and sometimes he thought it might be nice to do one thing that could be considered a little reckless before he died.

“Very well,” he said, closing his eyes and drinking the tea. “Do as you like.”

That was a dangerous thing to say to someone like Lao Nie, who promptly pulled three dozen Nie sect disciples from out of nowhere and sent them scurrying around hunting down evil with the energetic enthusiasm of youth entrusted with gigantic sabers and the freedom to use them as they would, while he himself settled in very happily in Lan Qiren’s home, sleeping on a guest bed, keeping away unwanted visitors and helping with any paperwork that didn’t explicitly require a Lan. He also recruited Nie Mingjue and Lan Xichen to assist, despite Lan Qiren’s protests that bureaucratic busywork was not an appropriate way for boys of approximately fifteen and definitely twelve, respectively, to spend their time; both of them very solemnly assured Lan Qiren that they were more than happy to do whatever they could.

Even little Lan Wangji and Nie Huaisang bullied their way into being involved, insisting that they wanted to do it more than they wanted to train or play, although at their ages there really wasn’t much they could do besides grind ink and run messages to the relevant recipients.

As Lan Qiren might have expected, rumors immediately started about some sort of torrid affair – life would be so much easier if everyone obeyed the rules against gossiping purposelessly – and they even got to the point that several of the sect elders cautiously hinted to him that although cutsleeve relationships were far from being in vogue, they had at no point been explicitly forbidden by the rules, and cited several provisions which seemed to favor such things.

Lan Qiren had thanked them for the reminder and caustically commented that he would be sure to incorporate that into his next set of lectures as he could see no other reason for them to mention it, and soon enough they backed off, shaking their heads. Still, those busybodies that had his best interests in mind were still preferable to the ones that started once more raising the idea of finding him a nice bride of suitable age – by suitable age, they meant too old for children, lest he get any idea of challenging his brother’s line of descent – before he did anything foolish like fall in love, or, worse, to act on it.

Obviously he had no intentions of permitting that.

Still, after a month of enforced rest, Lan Qiren was feeling a bit more himself. He took on more and more of the work, albeit supervised by five sets of judging eyes, and even began to play once more, this time without bringing anyone to tears. Jiwei and Xinfei rested together by the door in comfortable equilibrium, hot and cold, weak and powerful, and the jade pendant that Lan Qiren carried with him remained cool to the touch, not hot at all.

“You will need to go soon,” he told Lao Nie, who shrugged, not denying it – a month was a long time for a sect leader to be away from home absent some valid excuse like a war, not quite too long but starting to push it. No matter how effective one’s deputies were nor how much work one did from a distance, a sect leader was still necessary, in the end, or else Lan Qiren’s life would have been very different.

“Next week,” he said. “That’ll give me just enough time to take the boys home before heading back out again for the conference in Qishan.”

“There’s a conference? I wasn’t informed.”

“No, you weren’t, because I didn’t inform you,” Lao Nie said, utterly shameless. “You’re going to stay here and rest. It’s just a stupid party.”

“That doesn’t matter if it is also a stupid party which everyone else is attending,” Lan Qiren said sternly.

“Jiang Fengmian isn’t going, either,” Lao Nie said. “Doesn’t want to leave his new ward alone just yet…newest rumor has it that Wei Wuxian’s his bastard with Cangse Sanren.”

Lan Qiren shut his eyes. “Of course. Wasn’t I the one having the affair with her last week?”

“Perhaps it was a love triangle?”

“A square, at minimum. Don’t forget she had a husband.”

“A pyramid!”

“Lao Nie…”

Lao Nie laughed. “Jin Guangshan isn’t making it, either. His wife’s giving birth – predictions say to a daughter, I think, assuming this one survives the birth – and all accounts say that she’s threatened to cut his balls off if he even thinks of leaving Lanling City. So, you see, it really is just a stupid party, and by missing it you’ll be doing just the same thing as all the other Great Sects.”

Lan Qiren felt a sudden stab of misgiving. “Except you.”

“Except me,” Lao Nie said cheerfully. “Me and Hanhan.”

Lan Qiren truly did not want to know what went on in Lao Nie’s mind sometimes.

“Why don’t you refrain from going as well?” he asked, aware he sounded tetchy and irritable like some jealous wife in an opera. “If no one else is going.”

“Oh, I have to go. A-Han asked for me specifically,” Lao Nie said, and Lan Qiren thought to himself oh I’m certain he did, then promptly felt bad about doing so. Sneering for no reason was prohibited. “Someone’s gifted him with some magnificent saber for his collection, apparently, and he was boasting that it was the best there was right up until someone stuck their nose in it and said that it was all well and good but no comparison to my Jiwei.”

Lan Qiren could imagine exactly how well a statement like that had gone over with Wen Ruohan.

“And now he’s demanding you show up and produce evidence?” he asked, unimpressed.

Lao Nie grinned. “Ah, Qiren, it’s almost like you’ve met the man before.”

“You shouldn’t encourage him,” Lan Qiren said. “Why should you go just because he asked? He’s your equal, not your master.”

“There’s no harm in giving him some face.”

Lan Qiren could think of several ways that it could lead to harm, the inflation of Wen Ruohan’s already bloated ego being not the least of them, but Lao Nie was his equal as well, his equal and his elder. If the man had made up his mind, as it clearly appeared that he had, there was nothing Lan Qiren could say that would change it.

“Good luck, then,” he said, shaking his head, and called the boys to come in for dinner. As usual, the Lan half of the table remained mute while the Nie half did nothing but chatter, each according to their own family custom. It was a test of wills and endurance – Lan Wangji’s eye kept twitching every time Nie Huaisang filled in words for him, possibly due to the extremely high pitch Nie Huaisang chose to represent him – but it was a joy to share the time with them nonetheless.

Before Lao Nie left, Lan Qiren tried, not for the first time, to press the jade pendant that resonated with Jiwei into his hand. “You should take it with you,” he insisted. “Especially if you’re going to the Nightless City to exhibit your saber – there’s a great deal of resentful energy there, and you know that always gets Jiwei’s bloodlust up.”

“Which in turn will sharpen my reflexes, just when I need them most,” Lao Nie said, pressing the jade pendant right back into Lan Qiren’s hand. “Better you have it.”

“Lao Nie…”

“Jiwei likes you now,” Lao Nie said, as if that mattered. “She’s been just as avid to protect you as I’ve been, this past month – if I didn’t need her by my side, I’d almost be tempted to leave her here with you.”

Lan Qiren arched his eyebrows. “Are you suggesting that I can’t protect myself? Here? In the Cloud Recesses?”

“Saber spirits are not smart, Qiren. But even she can tell that you’re not well yet.”

Lan Qiren waved a hand dismissively. “Well enough,” he said, and it was even true – the grief was still there, of course, and likely would be every time he thought of Cangse Sanren in the near future, excluding maybe the few times when it was one of his students that resembled her only in terms of how much mischief she would get up to, but it was no longer drowning him. He had hope that, in time, this wound would also scab over and the hurt fade, and that at that time he could once again think of her with nothing but joy.

Lao Nie huffed. “Well enough isn’t well,” he grumbled, but that didn’t stop him from gathering his children and his disciples and heading out back towards Qinghe. “Take care of yourself, Qiren! Be well!”

“And you,” Lan Qiren said. “Keep out of trouble, my friend.”

From what he later heard, the party at the Nightless City went about as anyone with half a brain might have expected: Wen Ruohan swanned around until Lao Nie showed up, there were tense words exchanged, and then Lao Nie produced Jiwei, allowing Wen Ruohan to examine her and even pat her a few times before the Wen sect leader was forced, with great reluctance and through gritted teeth, to admit her superiority to the saber he had received.

The stories ended there, but Lan Qiren had enough imagination to fill in how the rest of the night might have gone, especially with the only sect leaders there being Lao Nie and Wen Ruohan. He sincerely hoped that Lao Nie had remembered all those lectures he’d given him about the foolishness of lying in the same bed as poisonous snakes, no matter how beautiful they might be on the surface.

Perhaps he had, perhaps he hadn’t.

Either way, Lan Qiren heard nothing else until the day he interrupted his own afternoon lecture with a sudden cry of intense pain – the jade pendant had abruptly gone so hot that it had burned, and although his clothing, protected by stitched-in incantations, was unharmed, the heat was so severe that it had nevertheless left a mark on his thigh through all those layers.

Clutching at his leg, Lan Qiren ordered his students to run to fetch him cold water and a doctor, and wondered what in the world had happened.

A letter, he decided. He would write Lao Nie a letter to ask.

#mdzs #lan qiren #sect leader nie #my fic #my fics #tedious joys

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cassieschaosdimension · 4 years

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I'm going to post this on tumblr instead of wattpad cause I'm like that, but this will be a collection of fanfic one shots from Draco's perspective giving him a redemption arc cause he deserves! Please let me know if you do want more after this.

The Train:

Eleven year old Draco Malfoy was standing on Platform Nine and Three Quarters hoping for a glimpse at the boy who lived. He like everyone else in the Wizarding world had grown up hearing his name. The story was one of legend and he wondered if Harry remembered it all. He was interrupted in his thoughts by two rambunctious red headed boys who brushed past him laughing loudly. He heard his father give a sniff of disapproval.

He pitied the boys even though he knee nothing about them. His father, Lucius Malfoy, was notorious for making sure none of his enemies were around to stop him. Draco had always wondered about the company his parents kept much perfering to stay in his room whilst they had any visitors at all.

"Draco darling," that was his mother. He sauntered over to where she was and listened to what she had to say. "Draco remember no matter what happens at school your father and I love you very much. We will write you as soon as we get home and eagerly await your owl. Chin up, back straight. Malfoys and Blacks do not slouch."

Nodding his head Draco says "Yes mother. I love both of you too. And I can't wait to see the castle with the lake and my classes. Mom, do you think people will like me? What if I can't make any friends? I don't want to hang out with Blaise or Crabbe and Goyle or Pansy. They're mean and stuck up to people."

"Just be yourself darling and remember what I told you. Go see your father." Mrs. Narcissa Malfoy, formerly known as Black, was a thin woman who demanded respect when she walked into a room. No one ever knew what she was thinking, but one thing they knew was she loved her family dearly. She would do anything to keep her son safe and away from harm.

Draco walks over to his father. "Draco, while you're at Hogwarts please try to remember we are not like the others. We are of noble blood and we must be treated as such. Do not let others get you down. You are a Malfoy and the name of Malfoy has demanded respect for centuries. Do not mess it up. Have fun at Hogwarts, but do not forget what I have told you. Get on the train."

Mr. Lucius Malfoy did not have the best childhood and when Narcissa became pregnant he vowed to protect his son from harm. He did this by only letting him intermingle with those of his own kind. Pureblood was what Draco was so pureblood it was. He made sure his son had a normal childhood. Well as normal as he would let him.

After hugging and kissing his mother and shaking hands with his father Draco runs excitedly onto the train waiting to see if he could make any friends before he even got to Hogwarts. After looking into one compartment on the train he shies always from that one. It had really tall, really loud people in it! He didn't want that at all.

Another compartment had only girls. His only experience with girls his own age had been Pansy and he wasn't eager to find out if all girls were like her. She was enough to deal with. He wanted a group of guy friends. Crabbe and Goyle did what he said because his father was the boss of their fathers. They weren't his friends. They had to do whatever he said and he didn't like it. He wanted to have stimulating conversations like he had with his mother over tea.

Whenever Pansy and her parents came over she was so mean to the poor house elves Draco always went and apologized for her behavior. The house elves were sad to see him go off to school, but they were excited too.

Draco was not excited to leave his only friends behind. His parents had always taught him to look down on the house elves, but he was nice to them in secret. He didn't feel nice knowing he had to be mean to people. Elves were just like witches and wizards only different and way way shorter.

"Excuse me. Coming through. Lee has a trantula for us to look at. Budge along." It was the two rambunctious red headed boys who had brushed him going onto the platform. When they got to where Draco was their patient look turned sour.

The one on the right looked at the one on the left and said "Pardon me your Highness. Will you let us pass to get to our compartment?" Draco didn't like the tone he used. He wasn't doing anything wrong. The train hadn't even started to move yet!

"Oh yeah," Draco pressed himself up against the wall to let the two pass. He didn't like these two and hoped he wouldn't have to interact with them in class. They looked older though like they were definitely not first years. In fact all of these people looked a lot older than he was.

Draco was starting to get scared and started to stumble along the long, velvet carpeted, hallway separating the compartments from the platform.

With each peek into a compartment, he was getting worried. He had yet to see any people who looked like first years. At one compartment he saw Crabbe, Goyle, and Pansy and immediately lurched past with his head down.

Shaken up at seeing them he stepped into a random compartment and was relieved to see a round faced brown haired boy with a toad sitting next to him. This boy looked like a first year like him.

"May I sit down?" Draco asked politely.

The boy looked to Draco and jumped in surprise. "Yes, yes you can. My name is Neville Longbottom and this is Trevor." He gestured to the tod sitting next to him. "Sit down and close the compartment please, Trevor might escape like he's tried four times already."

Grinning at the warm greeting, Draco complied. He stuck out his hand and said, "I'm Draco Malfoy. It's really nice to meet you Neville! I hope we can be friends!"

At the name Malfoy, Neville shot up in his seat in alarm. "M-mal-malfoy?! As in the Death Eaters?!" He started to fidget and panic.

Draco looked at the poor boy in utter confusion. "Former Death Eaters. Are you okay Neville?"

Eyes wide in fright Neville grabs Trevor and huddles at the furthest edge of the compartment. Away from Draco as if he had a disease. Draco wanted to cry. Here was a first year boy who looked terrified of him because of his name. He didn't understand why Neville was so scared. His parents weren't Death Eaters anymore and they only did it because He - Who - Must - Be - Named made them! All he wanted was a real friend!

Draco on the verge of tears turns to go. As soon as he opens the door he's met with a mane of brown, frizzy, bushy hair. He falls backwards in shock and hears a whimper from Neville.

"Hello. Everywhere else is full. They're about to depart so would you mind letting me into the compartment they would be wonderful." The bushy haired girl says with authority. "I would like to be seated when the lurch is felt. Excuse me."

She pushes past him and Draco stands up and when he's turned around the scene he looks at is chaotic.

Neville stands up to leap after Trevor, who with the door open, makes his way hopping faster than Draco expected towards freedom.

All else forgotten Neville screams "Grab him!" The bushy haired girl lunges for the toad and misses. Now it's Draco's turn to redeem himself in Neville's eyes. He too lunges for the toad and manages to grasp his left hind leg before he falls flat on his face his grip loosening on the toad who hope away unaware of the chaos he is about the cause.

Neville's face is distraught. "My great uncle Algie gave me Trevor when I got accepted into Hogwarts. See they didn't expect me to get in. I didn't show any signs until I got pushed off the Blackwell Pier. They expected me to drown, but I didn't!"

Draco and the girl exchange concerned glances. Draco knows that any Wizarding family will have almost all of their family members accepted unless they're a Squib and he's sure his family tree doesn't have any Squibs.

"So you're a pureblood?" Draco says cautiously accidentally falling into the girl who just sat down as the train gives a lurch just as the girl said.

The girl huffs and moves to give Draco room to sit and he smiles gratefully at her. He's never seen her before and she seems to give off the same air he does and he wonders if she's a pureblood from another country. As she speaks again he realizes they sound the same.

"Oh purebloods! I've read about them. They're the silly witches and wizards who think that half-bloods and Muggleborns are scum. I find that absolutely atrocious as I am a Muggleborn myself," the girl turns to Draco. "My guess is you're a pureblood?"

When he nods she starts to lecture him. "You all should be ashamed of yourselves! I read that if you guys didn't marry outside of your circle you would have died out! The mindset is completely rubbish and shouldn't even be put into practice. And at a school no less!"

Neville and Draco look at her shocked. For such a tiny girl she can inflict fear into anyone with that tone. "I'm Hermione Granger. And what House do you hope to be in? Personally I want to end up in Ravenclaw or Gryffindor as Slytherin seems filled with selfish and mean people and Hufflepuff seems filled with pushovers." (please don't hate me I adore the Houses remember she is basing them off of what she read in Hogwarts: A History it was really hard to insult my own House HUFFLEPUFF for life 💛💙💚♥️ fair House representation)

At this Draco swells. "Excuse me! My whole family has been in Slytherin for centuries and I can tell you we are not selfish and mean people! We care for the greater good!" (Just so you know I do not condone this type of thinking. This is just so wrong on so many levels this is just how he was raised remember that)

Neville seems to shrink into his corner again at the last three words and Draco instantly regrets. He wants Neville as a friend and now maybe he won't want to be his friend!

Hermione turns towards him so fast her hair slaps him in the face. "You sound like Grindelwald! He sounded like you! Are you a supporter of He Who Must be Named?! They were both awful men! How can you sit there saying that when they did such horrible things!"

Fear starts to creep into his eyes. These two do not like him. He is only repeating what he's heard his parents say! Should he say that? The words pop out before he can stop them. "My parents taught me that and I'm sorry if that was wrong all I want are real friends for once! Please give me a chance!"

Hermione looks at Neville and walks over to him. They converse in hushed voices. Draco's heart begins to sink. Will they give him a chance to be their friend?! All he wants is a real friend he count on! He doesn't think he wants to be a Malfoy if this what the name gives him.

The waiting is agonizing. It seems like forever when they suddenly turn to him and Neville says, "How do we know you're not lying? Your mom's sister made my parents insane! I had to be raised by my grandma! I love her, but I miss my parents!"

Hermione rubs his back and looks at Draco. "Okay, we don't trust you, but we are willing to give you a chance. Now, please help us find Trevor. He's special to Neville and he doesn't want to start Hogwarts without him. Please help us look for him."

Draco sensing a wonderful opportunity stands eagerly and nods. "Where do you want to start? Should we split up or stay together? Personally I think we should stay together because all of those people out there are scary."

The two stare at him in shock. They were not expecting him to jump up so suddenly and agree wholeheartedly.

Hermione says split up and Neville agrees, but then Draco pointed out no one would tell him anything since almost everyone knew who he was anyway. Finally it was agreed Neville would go on his own and Draco and Hermione would ask together.

Neville heads off to the left towards the front of the train because that's where he thinks Trevor would have gone. Hermione and Draco head towards the back of the train.

The first few compartments they encounter will only tell Hermione if they saw Trevor or not and ignored Draco completely. He wants to cry. Is the Malfoy name really making people not like him?! But they don't even know him! How are they supposed to know they don't like him if they don't know him?!

The last compartment holds two boys: one very red headed and one with round glasses and black hair. Draco had learned to hang back while Hermione does the asking. When she asks, they say no. The red headed boy pulls out a wand and Draco inches closer to see a real spell done. His mother made him promise not to use his wand until his first class because he could hurt people and he agreed.

The red haired boy says something about rats, daisies and yellow. As expected the rest does not turn yellow. Hermione scoffs and then fixes the black haired boy's glasses.

When the red haired boy introduces himself as Ron Weasley, Draco wrinkles his nose. He can't help it. His father says the Weasleys are blood traitors and Mugglelovers. He was always taught they were bad, but now he's not so sure.

Then when the black haired boy says his name is Harry Potter, Draco surges forward. As he comes into view Ron turns away in disgust and he deflates a little bit. He's going to have to be careful in how he says things. "Hello! My name is Draco Malfoy and I'm also looking for Neville's toad. I'm assuming since this is the last compartment he's not here. Hermione, I'm going to head back to the compartment to see if Neville found him."

With a smile and wave goodbye he leaves the three of them stunned into silence. The smile falls off his face as he trudges with a heavy heart towards the compartment to put his robes on. He realizes he should only stick to the people he has already met and he vows to steer clear of Crabbe, Goyle and Pansy for as long as he can and since they'll be in Slytherin like him it'll be hard. He'll manage.

He puts his robes in in the empty compartment and waits for Neville and Hermione to come back. Hopefully they will since their trucks are here. Smiling to himself at the he stares out the window already imaging what fun things he can do with his new friends!

Thank you for reading it! I hope you enjoyed it!

#harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #draco malfoy #hogwarts #hermione granger #ron weasley #neville longbottom

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h3rmitsunited · 4 years

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He Ruined My Life (But Todd, Did He? Did He Really?)

Read On Ao3

Todd smiled slightly at the middle finger his sister flashed at him before closing the door behind her. It was a very normal move for her, despite the shambles that their relationship was in, and the fact that she had even bothered to talk to him at all gave him hope that maybe there’s a way to fix things eventually. Todd let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding in, as he let Amanda's surprisingly wise words wash over him. Dirk's face flashed in his mind, the hurt and shock and pain distorting his expression when Todd had spoken to him cruelly ripped him apart hours earlier... or days ago...out at that pier. Todd rushed into the bathroom, fighting back a sick feeling in his stomach, huffing and gasping over the sink, and caught a glimpse of his face in the mirror. His own words echoed in his ears.

You're a monster. You ruined my life. You deserve to be alone.

It wasn’t Dirk that deserved those words. Todd glared into his own eyes in the mirror. Todd could feel his self-destructive tendencies blazing inside him, his mind swirling with self-hatred.

Asshole, you're such an asshole, you always do this, Dirk stayed after you told him what an asshole you were and you just drove him away, you treated him like crap, you deserve to be alone, he deserves so much better than you, God, you're such a piece of sh-

Todd squeezed his eyes shut and pressed his hands hard against his face, shaking his head. He remembered Amanda looking down at him yesterday morning right before she climbed into that van and left him behind.

You're exactly the piece of shit everyone thinks you are.

The feeling wasn’t unfamiliar to him, it had soaked into every part of his life, and he had been drowning in it for years. Even before Amanda’s first attack, he felt it, less then than he did after her attack, but he couldn’t deny that most of his sober moments were spent wallowing in shame and self-hatred and guilt, even if he did nothing to change that part of who he was. His selfishness had won out every single time until Amanda had become a part of it.

But the question was how does he move forward now? The glare of his eyes in the mirror had faded, replaced by a sad exhausted resignation that weighed his whole body down. Todd sighed, and turned, looking back out of the bathroom at the destroyed remains of his apartment, at the spot Amanda had been standing a few minutes earlier. She was right, of course, as always. He had always thought that she was way too smart, definitely much smarter than he’s ever been. He shook his head. She was right about Dirk. She was right and he screwed it all up. Dirk had come into his life for a reason. Dirk had made him better. Dirk hadn’t let him wallow in his self-deprecating crap, and in barely over a week, Dirk had completely changed his life. Most importantly, Dirk definitely didn't deserve any of the shit that Todd had said to him.

Todd’s stomach clenched as another nauseating wave of guilt crashed over him. He needed to fix things, to make things right with Dirk. Even if Dirk deserved a much better friend than Todd, he was all he had, for now...well and Farah, probably (Todd wasn’t exactly sure what she wanted to talk to them about later...she may have decided that Dirk’s special brand of crazy bullshit was too...crazy for her). Todd felt an unfamiliar burst of certainty, a feeling he experienced more since meeting Dirk, and rushed to grab what he needed from his apartment before running out the door.

_____________

The weight of his backpack straps pressed into his shoulders and grounded the swirling angsty thoughts clouding Todd’s mind. Now walking up to the hospital entrance from the bus stop, he could only manage to focus on the ache in his body. Surprisingly, spending 8 days straight running, falling, jumping, digging, running more, getting hit, shot at, and electrocuted can make your muscles a little bit stiff, especially if you’ve spent the last... 10 years barely exercising more than going up and down the stairs to your apartment and running to the bus stop. If this is what every case with Dirk was like, Todd would get into shape very quickly... if Dirk even wants me around, his mind reminded him bitterly. He shook the thought away, glancing up as he passed by a serious looking man with a mustache who gave him a strange look and kept quickly walking away. Something in Todd’s chest tightened, though he wasn’t sure why, and he turned back and watched the man walk into the parking lot, back to a large black SUV illegally parked by the curb with government plates. Todd hoped that wasn’t anything to do with Dirk, but with everything that had happened to him the last few days, he knew better now than to ignore a coincidence. He turned back and rushed into the entrance.

His head swam as everything hit him at once. The nothing smell, the flurry of noises, coughs and cries from the people in the waiting room sitting with squirming children and talking in hushed and strained voices on their phones, the rush of the nurses behind the desk at the front, the overwhelming sense of tension, everything brought him back to the last time he was in a hospital, that first time Amanda had an attack seven years ago. The tightness in his chest squeezed even tighter. He could hear that frantic voicemail his mother had left as they rode in the ambulance to the hospital, Amanda’s terrified screams in the background, he still had it saved on his phone. He hadn't bothered to answer when they called. He remembered waking up and hearing it ring, looking at the phone screen blearily before turning over and falling back to sleep. He didn't check the voicemail until hours later, as well as dozens of frantic texts and multiple more missed calls, and when he heard what his mother was saying, he ran to the bathroom and vomited, telling himself it was because of his hangover and not the heavy pit that suddenly dropped into his stomach. The rush to get to the hospital was a blur. He remembered driving way too fast, and that was about it. When he finally arrive, his parents barely registered his haggard appearance, barely registered him at all, his mother just broke into rambling anxious explanations of what happened and what the doctor said and every test they were doing, and that Amanda was sedated because she wouldn’t stop screaming, wouldn’t stop clawing at her skin, her eyes terrified, shouting about the bugs crawling into her mouth, her eyes, her nose, under her skin. His mother cried. His father stood, eyes blank, glazed over, but his hands shaking. Todd barely registered anything after that. He stared silently at his sister, his baby sister, small and frail in the hospital bed, her arms strapped down, dark red scratches across her skin. His mind went blank, for what must have been hours, until the nurse came in and gently let them know they would need to leave for the night, and they would call if anything changed. He had gotten in his car and just screamed and sobbed and pounded his steering wheel.

Todd’s mind returned to the present, but he could still feel the ghost of the ache in his hands from that steering wheel. He forced his thoughts away, knowing that if he let himself, he would get lost in the memory. Things are different now. You're here for Dirk. You're here to make things right. He marched up to the front desk, waiting politely until one of the nurses glanced up and smiled, catching the exhausted look in his eyes. Todd noticed the ice cream cones on her pink scrub top and absently smiled, thinking of Dirk's ties. The nurse brushed a strand of hair that had come out of her ponytail out of her face and cleared her throat.

"How can I help you?" Todd took a moment to register what she said, he opened his mouth gaping at her for surely too long before he responded.

"Dirk-!" He blurted out when he remembered why he was there. He cleared his throat, embarrassed at his sudden outburst. The nurse watched him curiously, narrowing her eyes slightly. "Sorry... long night," he mumbled and coughed into his hand. "I’m.... uh...I'm here to see Dirk... Gently. Last name, Gently, First name, Dirk? He was brought in... last night...or...earlier today?” Spending half of the day yesterday traveled back to 8 days before made telling what time anything was slightly more complicated... It was at least dark when they got to the Spring Mansion though, so.... “Last night, I think...Detective Estevez brought him in, he had some arrows in his shoulder... lost some blood...a lot of blood." He shivered remembering the sight of Dirk's shirt under his blue jacket, just soaked in his blood. His face had been so pale. It was not pretty. Amanda’s words replayed in his head. He glanced back up at the nurse who was now typing into the computer, seemingly ignoring the rest of his rambling before she looked back up at him.

"Right, Dirk Gently. Are you family?" Todd stuttered.

“Uh... not really...” She narrowed her eyes again. “We’re...” He struggled to define what they were. Were they still friends? Assistant and his detective? He couldn’t very well tell her he was an assis-friend... “Partners.” Good enough, he supposed, and technically mostly true.

The nurse seemed to soften slightly, and Todd suddenly realized the alternate implication of what he said. He blushed but didn’t bother to correct the assumption.

“Name?”

"Todd. Todd Brotzman, spelled B-R-O-T-Z-M-A-N.” She started typing again. Todd pressed up against the edge of the desk, tapping his fingers anxiously. "Is he okay? I mean, he was in bad shape, really bad, and I'm just... worried, you know? He doesn't have anyone else."

Her eyes crinkled into a sympathetic look. He watched as her eyes turned back to the computer and scanned the screen. She nodded and smiled.

"He came out of surgery about an hour and half ago. He's resting in his room. Should wake up once the anesthesia wears off, but he's stable. He’ll be okay." She glanced back at the screen. "Room 315, you can take those elevators," she pointed to the hallway to the left, and Todd could see the silver doors of the elevators, "up to the third floor, and follow the signs. There's another desk up there if you get lost." Todd nodded appreciatively and started to walk away. "Oh, and you may have company, looks like his father came in to see him earlier, doesn’t look like we have a check out time for him yet." Todd felt the pit in his stomach return.

"What?"

"His father?" The nurse responded, she glanced back at the screen. "Scott? Had some military ID?" Todd tried to wipe the look of panic off his face and nodded again, more forcefully. The black SUV with the military plate, the man with the moustache, that involuntary clench in his chest. He knew it had meant something.

"Thank you for your help." He managed to bite out before walking quickly over to the elevators.

Blackwing. Dirk hadn’t told him much about the organization, but Todd knew enough to know that it was bad news if they were paying him a visit here. Todd remembered back to a few nights ago. Dirk had spent way too long just "getting his magic lightbulb from the car", and when Todd found him at his car, Dirk was completely out of sorts. Dirk had confessed Blackwing had come to bring him back in again, that they had held him captive as a child, had spent years studying him. Todd couldn't forget the haunted look in Dirk's eyes when he said that name, or the terrifying ease that he vanished the expression from his face when they walked back into Todd's apartment, only shooting Todd a warning glance that Todd understood to mean, 'keep that to yourself.' A couple days later, while they drove back from the nature preserve with Patrick Spring’s machine in the back of the jeep, Dirk had gone into more excruciating detail as to the extent of what “studying him” meant in Blackwing terms. Todd had been grateful then that he was driving, his hands gripped painfully tight on the steering wheel, allowing him to keep his eyes trained on the winding roads, while Dirk bared his painful past to him. The fear in Dirk’s voice had sent a chill up Todd’s spine, and he burned with anger about what Dirk, and all those children had gone through because of what Blackwing thought they could be molded into.

The elevator doors dinged, and Todd waited as an orderly pushed an empty wheelchair out into the hallway. He could almost have laughed as he pressed the floor number, recalling his strange elevator experience several days ago that started all of this... strangeness. Todd’s panic escalated as the painfully slow elevator moved up the floors. What if Blackwing was here to take Dirk? What if he was already gone? What if they grabbed him after his surgery? He’s all alone. He thinks I hate him. The elevator let out another tinny ding and the doors scraped open. Todd followed the signs down the hall towards Dirk's room. The hospital noises closed in around him, the soft beeping, mechanical hums, and quiet television sounds pressing in, sending a chill across his skin. He rubbed his hand over his sleeve, willing the goosebumps away. He could see the number on the wall at the end of the hall. 315. The door was closed. He wondered what he would find behind it. If Dirk would be surrounded by strange men, clad in black, toting guns, pulling him away... it was ridiculous to think, but they had traveled in time yesterday, and switched a dog and a girl’s soul, so it was less ridiculous than some things... Todd took a breath and paused for just a moment before he pushed open the door. The breath choked him in his throat.

The bed was empty. It was empty.

He was too late.

They took him. That man in the parking lot. Todd felt his anger sparking up inside, but it was drowned out by an overwhelming feeling of guilt and sorrow.

They took Dirk, and he would never know how sorry he was for what he said. That he didn't think he was a monster, that he didn't deserve to be alone, he deserved friends and people that cared about him. Todd struggled to catch his breath. He needed to go, needed to try to find that man, to find Dirk. Todd felt his eyes start to prickle again when someone placed a hand on his shoulder. Todd flipped around quickly, half expecting Dirk to be standing there grinning at him. He came face to face with a nurse, one hand holding a purple clipboard. She looked at him confused.

"Sir?" Todd pulled back, glancing around at the empty room.

"Sorry. I thought-" His voice crackled with emotion. "My friend-" Todd looked around the empty room, his expression lost. The nurse looked back at him carefully.

"Why don't we make sure you're in the right room, before assuming the worst, dear." She guided him out of the empty room, down the hallway, to the nurse’s station. "What's the name?"

"Todd-" He replied absently before realizing what she meant. "Sorry, Dirk. Dirk Gently. He had... arrows...blood." Todd turned back again to the door to the empty room. The numbers mocked him from the wall. "Downstairs, she said 315." He heard the nurse let out an exasperated sigh, and he turned quickly back to her.

"Sorry, hun." Todd braced himself, expecting the worst. She continued talking. "Someone typed the room number wrong.” She rolled her eyes. “He's in 310."

"Really?" Todd asked incredulously, overwhelming relief filling his body. The nurse clacked away at the keyboard, presumably fixing the error in the system, and then looked back at Todd.

"Yeah, typos happen. He's okay though. By himself again, his other visitor left not too long ago."

"He's still in there?" Todd asked, gazing blankly down the hall, only half paying attention.

"No, he left..." The nurse responded impatiently. Todd looked back at her confused. "His visitor left," she said more firmly.

"No, uh, sorry, Dirk? Dirk's still in there? He didn't leave with...anyone?" The nurse rolled her eyes, shook her head.

“No. He’s just barely out of surgery. He can’t go anywhere until the doctor clears him to leave. You’re Todd Brotzman, right?” She asked, her fingers clicking over the keyboard. “His…partner?” Todd’s heart stuttered, but he nodded.

“Yes. I’m his…partner. Todd.” She smiled and typed something else into the computer.

“Great, well, he’s very lucky to have you. I’m sure he will be happy to see you when he wakes up.” She said with a wave down the hall to Dirk's room. She walked back around the desk and started pulling files from the shelves. Todd watched her for a moment and realized that he had been dismissed. He could feel the panic rising again, the sound and the smell and the sight of the hospital was bringing back that heavy guilty weight in his body. The sound of his mother's high-pitched frantic voice when she saw Todd walking into the hospital. How she had looked at him like she had failed, that she had condemned both of her children to have to (as far as she knew) suffer with this horrible disease. Todd blinked the memory away, staring back down at the empty hallway.

He walked quickly towards Dirk’s room, expecting to have the same hesitating moment before pushing open the door, but it was already open, and just as the nurse said, somewhat anticlimactically, there he was. Alone. No obvious Blackwing threatening him. No serious moustache man looming in the corner. Just Dirk.

Todd let out a heavy breath, and felt his muscles relax slightly. He stepped quietly into the dimly lit room, and pulled the door shut behind him, blocking out the triggering sights and sounds and smells outside, and allowing himself the small reprieve and comfort of closing him and Dirk away from the rest of the world, for just a moment. Todd's ears rang in the stark quiet of the room. The only sound was the steady beeps of the machine hooked up to Dirk, and the soft puff of his breath. It startled Todd to realize how relieved he felt to hear Dirk breathing. Todd stepped further into the room. He felt nervous. Why did he feel so nervous? Looking over at the heart monitor, he was suddenly very glad that he wasn't the one hooked up to that thing. Given the pounding in his chest, he was sure it would be beeping like crazy. He stopped at the end of Dirk's bed, picking at his fingers.

Dirk was so still, and quiet. Sleeping calming, his expression was smooth, the blood and grime now carefully cleaned from his skin. Todd could see the white of a bandage sticking out from the collar of the pale blue hospital gown. He stepped closer, reaching out to smooth the hair sticking up at the edge of Dirk’s forehead, but he stopped, and pulled his hand away before he could brush over the auburn hair. His mind recalled his harsh words, and his guilty pit pressed down in his gut. Todd stepped away, back to the end of the bed, his nerves sparking with nervous energy. Desperate for a distraction, he quietly picked up the chart hanging on the end of Dirk’s bed, his eyes scanning over the name at the top. Gently, Dirk. For some reason, he felt calmer, just knowing it was actually Dirk, given that this quiet man in the hospital bed was drastically different the Dirk that Todd had come to know. He scanned quickly through the notes in the chart, catching some familiar words, but most of it was just gibberish to his medically incompetent and extremely distracted brain. He relaxed reading a line at the bottom stating that Dirk was stable and could be discharged later today once cleared by the doctor. Todd carefully placed the chart back on the end of the bed and looked back up at Dirk.

Something about being in a hospital bed makes everyone seem so fragile. He remembered how Amanda looked, all the tubes and monitors and cords, the straps around her arms. Dirk was fortunately lucky enough that he wasn’t dealing with pararibulitis, and his injury didn’t require him to be restrained in order to keep him from hurting himself while he recovered, but Todd still felt the same sick weight in his gut looking down at him in the bed. He just looked wrong. Dirk was supposed to be bright and alive and speaking ten million words a minute jumping from idea to idea. This man was too quiet, too gray. He looked ten years younger, and ten years older at the same time. In the dim light of the window, Todd could make out the dark shadows lining his eyes, and red of the healing burns on his face that Todd fondly recalled gently covering with those stupid pink bandages. Todd shifted on his feet and the weight of his backpack reminded him of the precious items he had brought, a peace offering. He hoped that the familiar color would bring the vibrancy back to his friend. Dirk didn’t look right without it, and the pale, ‘almost died several hours ago from blood loss’ look of his skin made Todd feel nauseous.

He noticed a chair resting at the edge of the wall and pulled it forward, slightly closer to the bed, but not too close. Todd's stupid, angry, ‘projecting his own shit on other people’ brain sort of messed things up, and he wasn't sure if Dirk waking up to Todd much closer than he was would be a comfort... or an unwelcome surprise. Given everything Dirk had said and done since Todd met him nine days ago, Todd definitely should have known the answer to that question, but he was never the most emotionally competent person, and he preferred to blatantly ignore the idea that someone might actually like being around him in favor of self-flagellating from across the room.

His body still buzzed with anxious energy as he sat down, but he could feel the creep of exhaustion pulling at the edges of his consciousness. He shook his head, trying to force himself to stay awake, and shifted to pull his backpack off. He pulled out his phone and texted Farah a quick update on Dirk and the possible Blackwing visitor earlier. A moment later, he could see she started typing, and waited until her response popped up. She texted, 'ok we'll talk about it at the diner later. lots to discuss.' Todd responded with a quick 'sounds good. will let you know if anything changes.' Send. A thumbs up from Farah. Todd stuffed the phone into his pocket and dropped the backpack on the floor. He leaned back in the chair and sighed, glancing out of the window through the thin gaps in the window shade. His heartbeat and breaths slowly synced up with the beeps of Dirk’s heart monitor and Todd barely noticed as the edges of his vision darkened and he faded into sleep.

Dirk shifted in his sleep, shifting his wounded shoulder, sending a burst of pain into his nerves, and he woke up with a soft gasp. He could hear the beeping of the heart monitor slow down as the pain receded into a dull ache and he took in his surroundings. He barely remembered the detective man dragging him into the hospital...whenever that had been, hours or days ago, he remembered a lot of blood, and being very tired and then he was here. It was rare for him to be somewhere so quiet, the dim lights and the sterile room, the almost oppressive silence, and the aching feeling in his body reminded him uncomfortably of his time at Blackwing. But this is the hospital. He’s not at Blackwing. He’s in the hospital. Even if Colonel Riggins… His heart started to race, mind spiraling into paranoid thoughts, and he felt his breath catch in his lungs, until his eyes landed on the chair across the room, slightly hidden in the shadows, holding his lightly snoring... friend? Ex-friend? Assis-friend? Todd. He felt a wave of relief. Todd wouldn’t be in Blackwing. His panic faded from his vision, and he heard the heart monitor’s frantic beeping slow. Dirk stared at Todd, he knew Todd would have felt uncomfortable by it if he were awake, but he’s not awake, so… he stared. He’s quite surprising, not at all what he expected when he first saw Todd at the Perriman Grand as he ran up to the penthouse, though in his life, he should be used to not having any sort of expectations for anything, since they mostly always end up completely wrong in very strange and unexpected ways, so… Dirk fought to quell the fluttering of hope threatening to overtake his mind, the hope that Todd brought by sitting there across the room. He reminded himself of Todd’s words. How angry he had been. That he never wanted to see Dirk again… It’s not like it should be surprising. Dirk had learned a long time ago that people didn’t stick around him, they got tired of him and his weird behavior, his chaotic life, even if they acted like they liked it…or liked him. They always left. And he would be alone. Just like he always was.

Dirk frowned and looked back at Todd. But maybe… he didn’t have to be alone? Todd let out another soft snore and shifted in the chair. Dirk wondered what could have made Todd return. They had solved the Spring case. Sent the machine back. Presumably, Farah took Lydia somewhere, maybe the detective man was helping her… but Todd, here was Todd, sleeping in his hospital room, waiting for… something. For what? Another case, always another case to solve. The Todd case, a particularly difficult one. Dirk thought through the facts. What he knew about Todd. He was unemployed, and his apartment was practically unlivable, perhaps he wanted to stay in Dirk’s new apartment until he could figure out what to do next? No, that would require spending time around Dirk, and he had said he never wanted to see him again. Maybe, something with Amanda? Perhaps he still hoped Dirk could fix things for him, could help with Amanda… somehow? The time-travel bit didn’t work, but maybe Todd thought something holistic might help? That could be it, right? Dirk watched Todd’s eyes twitch in his sleep. Dirk frowned and shook his head slightly. No, but Todd knew, he saw how Dirk’s… ‘thing’ worked. He knew that it didn’t work like that. Dirk sighed and rubbed a hand over his face. His heart sank. Maybe Todd was still mad at him. Maybe he just came here to make sure Dirk knew he was serious about what he said. To say good-bye. Dirk pressed his head back into the pillows. He was exhausted. His shoulder throbbed with a dull and slowly sharpening ache. His head swam with the remnants of whatever anesthesia and medications they had given him. He just didn’t have anything else to give, and he certainly wasn’t looking forward to being shouted at again, or called a monster, or blamed for all the extraneous side effects of the case, things that he had no control over… He took a breath, letting the familiar tingling waves of the universe come to life in his nerves. The ever-present push that guided him where he needed to go, that told him where he was supposed to be was quiet, resting…satisfied. This was where Dirk was supposed to be. He sighed, resigned to whatever fate would bring him next. He’d never had control over his life before, so no use trying to force it now.

He swallowed thickly, his dry throat immediately protesting, and he coughed. He flicked his eyes to Todd, hoping the noise didn’t wake him, and gratefully, it didn’t, delaying their inevitable conversation when he finally did wake up. Dirk glanced around the bed for some sort of call button, smiling triumphantly finding it on the table beside him, (and wisely placed on his uninjured side) the button glowing softly. It was barely two minutes after pressing the button when the door swung open, bumping the wall with a soft thud, and a nurse with a kind face strode in, clutching a purple clipboard in her hand.

“Mr. Gently. Awake at last, I see.” She said, her voice a normal volume, but in the quiet of the room, sounding extremely loud. Dirk flinched and glanced over at Todd, who shifted slightly in his sleep, but didn’t wake. The nurse looked over at Todd, a look of recognition passing over her face, then smiled apologetically back at Dirk. “How are you feeling?” She asked more softly, walking closer to the bed.

“Much better, actually. Thank you. The blood’s staying inside my body now, so practically back to normal, I’d say.” His voice crackled limply out of his dry throat, despite his fruitless attempts to return to his typical levels of manic speech. He cleared his throat. “I’m pretty thirsty though. Water’s fine, but could I perhaps bother you for a cup of tea?” She smiled, putting up one finger, asking him to wait, and reached out to the collar of his gown, pausing a moment until Dirk nodded, somewhat unsure of what she was doing when he only asked her for a cup of tea. He was fairly certain a cup of tea wasn’t some American slang for ‘please take my clothes off’, but he’d never been to Seattle before, and he wasn’t going to be rude to someone that is helping keep him alive…so... She pulled the loose collar away from his shoulder, and carefully checked the bandages, brushing gently over the gauze. Of course, she was checking the bandages. Stupid Dirk. He rolled his eyes at himself.

“Doesn’t look like it’s bleeding too much.” She glanced at a small patch of red soaking through the bandages. “We’ll get this changed again before you go, and make sure you, or your partner,” she motioned to Todd still sleeping. Was that a blush creeping up on his face? Dirk watched for any signs that he was actually awake, and the nurse kept talking. “know how to change it. I’ll let the doctor know you’re awake. She should come in soon to check on you, and if everything looks good, you should be able to go home today.” Home. That stupid word always squeezed painfully at his heart. He shook the feeling away, like he always does and nodded. The nurse smiled at him. “And I’ll see about that cup of tea.” Dirk grinned back.

“Oh, thank you. You have no idea how much I need one. As you can probably tell, I’m from England, it’s practically essential for me to live.” The nurse gave him an amused look, glanced over at Todd again, and left, shutting the door quietly behind her. Dirk sighed and leaned back in the bed, keeping one eye on Todd who shifted again in his chair.

“I know you’re awake.” Todd smiled, his eyes still closed for a moment before he cracked them open. He sighed and stretched his arms out above him and arched his back, groaning.

“How are you feeling?” Todd said, looking pointedly at his injured shoulder. He hadn’t pulled the hospital gown back up over his chest after the nurse checked his bandage. “Is it still bleeding?” Dirk looked down as he reached up and touched at the red spot of dried blood that had seeped through.

“The nurse said that it looked okay, didn’t look like it was actively bleeding anymore. They’re supposed to come check it and change the bandages in a bit.” Todd hummed, apparently satisfied with the answer. Dirk remembered what the nurse had said about Todd and blushed. Partner. “How long were you awake?” He wondered if she just assumed their relationship about them, or, maybe, Todd had said something... If he was blushing because he did hear and he did say something… He wasn’t about to ask him directly though. Not right now.

“Not that long… Just at the end there. Your tea excitement woke me up.” He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes.

“What about you? How are you feeling?” Dirk asked, studying the dark rings under Todd’s eyes, the heavy slump of his shoulder. Todd’s forehead wrinkled.

“Me?” He shook off Dirk’s concern, forcing himself to sit up. “Fine. I’m good. I’m not the one that had two arrows in his body and lost all his blood.” Todd smirked, fighting to be as casual as possible, despite his conflicted emotions bubbling just under the surface.

“Sure, but you also did have an alarming amount of electricity go through your body… and I’m pretty sure one of those machine guys tried to strangle you at one point? You were in just about as bad shape as I was last night… plus you don’t have the benefit of all the free pain medication.” Dirk said smiling, trying to keep his voice light. Todd frowned.

“Free? You do realize you’re in America now right? They don’t just hand that stuff out. Sure hope the universe has good health insurance.” Todd said, laughing under his breath. Dirk blanched.

“Right…” Dirk blinked and then shrugged. “Doesn’t matter. I don’t think that will be a problem.” Todd shrugged and rolled his eyes. He wasn’t about to argue with that, Dirk had obviously figured out something that worked for him…sort of… who’s he to tell him different. Todd rubbed a hand over his arm. Dirk frowned. “You sure you’re alright, Todd?” Todd looked up at him, an unreadable expression on his face. He shook his head, looked down at his hands resting in his lap, and sighed. He made no move to respond, sitting quietly. Dirk leaned forward towards him “Todd?” Todd’s head rose up again, his eyes rimmed with red, and mouth tight. He shook his head, blinking away tears that started to fill his eyes.

“I’m not… I’m not really… good at this, Dirk. I haven’t…” He shook his head, letting his hands fall open in front of him. “I don’t know how to do this.” Dirk’s frown deepened. Distantly, he could hear the beeping of the heart monitor speed up again, but his focus was on Todd.

“Do what?” Todd shook his head and didn’t answer. What could Todd possibly be talking about? Dirk usually didn’t mind not having the answers, was pretty patient about waiting for the universe to just show him what he was supposed to know, but this was excrutiating. “Todd, come on. Do what?”

“Fix things?” He said with a shrug. Dirk cocked his head to the side. Todd let out a frustrated sigh. “I don’t know… To fix everything? Fix my life? I mean I screwed everything up with Amanda, she hates me, my job, my apartment, my life is destroyed, and,” he paused and looked up at Dirk, his eyes bright and glistening in the light coming through the window shade. “You… I-“ Todd choked on his words, staring at his hands and shaking his head. Dirk was...confused. They solved the case. Todd could move on. He didn’t have to deal with Dirk messing everything up again. Was he still angry with Dirk, that his ‘power’ isn’t enough to fix what he did to Todd’s life, that he lied to Todd?

“Todd...I... I don’t understand? What I said… I’m sorry. I know you don’t want anything to do with me anymore… but I can’t… help you…I don’t… I can’t fix things with Amanda… it’s not…how it-“ Dirk looked up from where he’d been staring at his lap. Todd had stood up, his face even more broken up that before, guilt deforming every feature of his expression. Dirk stopped in his rambling attempts to apologize, and Todd shook his head and walked to the side of Dirk’s bed.

“Dirk. No, I-” He groaned, frustrated at his inability to say what he means. His eyes met Dirk’s, and neither could look away. “I’m sorry. Dirk, I didn’t come here for you to fix my mistakes... and I never should have said any of what I did to you. I was angry at myself. I ruined my own life, and when I realized that there wouldn’t be an easy solution to fix it... you were just there, the perfect target for me to blame everything on. That wasn’t fair of me, and I’m sorry, Dirk.” Todd blinked back the shine that was filling his eyes and turned away. “I’m sorry that you ended up with an asshole for a friend, and I don’t know how to fix that, to fix what I’ve done.” Todd was close enough to the bed that Dirk was able to reach out and take Todd’s hand in his. Todd looked up, surprised, the sound of the beeping heart monitor in the background. Dirk didn’t say anything, but the unfiltered and sincere fondness and forgiveness in his expression was a clear enough answer that even Todd understood. “I really am sorry, Dirk. And I understand if you don’t want me around anymore.” Dirk smiled and rolled his eyes.

“You really don’t get it do you?” Dirk had a playful glint in his eyes. “We were meant to know each other, it’s destiny, the will of the universe, fate... or something.... I can feel it, so that means no arguing... and no more calling yourself an asshole. Because you’re not.” Todd opened his mouth to deny it, but Dirk lifted a finger to silence him. “Nuh-uh. You apologized, and that was quite a lovely apology, Todd. Now, you just have to be better. That’s how you fix it.” Todd frowned.

“What if I screw things up again?”

“Don’t worry, Todd.” Dirk grinned. “I know you will. But so will I. And so will everyone. It’s an annoyingly beautiful part of being a real human person. Look, I know you have a good heart, and I know you aren’t perfect,” he turned his head away. “To be perfectly honest, you’d be pretty boring if you were.” He added with a playful glint in his eyes, before he let out a heavy breath, and his expression fell. “I won’t lie to you and say that what you said to me didn’t hurt me. It did. I thought… you know that I’ve never… had anyone…” he flicked his eyes to Todd. “Stay. You saying what you did… It’s everything I say to myself. Everything Blackwing raised me to believe about myself. Hearing that from you…” He shook his head, blinking away tears, unable to continue. Todd quickly dragged his chair beside the bed, sitting and pulling Dirk’s hand into his. He shook his head emphatically, expression intense.

“You’re not-”

“I know.” Dirk stopped him, firmly. He pulled his hands out of Todd’s leaving a cold chill in the empty place that remained. “I know.” He sighed. “I don’t… I don’t expect you to fix that. My childhood…traumas. I just… I need you to understand that you hurt me. That what you said hurt.” Dirk’s tear-filled eyes flicked up to Todd’s, piercing with their intensity. Todd nodded quickly. He took a deep breath, and nodded again more firmly.

“I do. I understand I hurt you, and I am sorry, Dirk.” Dirk reached back for Todd’s hand still stretched towards him on the bed, and patted it once.

“Good.” He nodded with a satisfied smile. Todd realized he’d been forgiven. He felt the heavy weight on his body lighten, just slightly.

“Thank you, Dirk.” Todd awkwardly lifted his hand for a handshake. “Friends, then?” Dirk smirked and cocked his head. Were they handshake friends? Was that something they did? He didn’t think they were handshake friends…

“No,” Dirk responded and Todd frowned, suddenly unsure if he misread everything that Dirk had said. “Partners.” Dirk grinned at Todd’s confused face before it flashed into embarrassed realization that Dirk knew what he had told the nurse earlier. He cleared his throat.

“Look, technically, sort of, we are partners, Dirk, like detective partners or something, and I wasn’t sure if they would let me see you if I wasn’t some sort of family-ish person…“ Dirk basked in Todd’s rambling smugly and Todd closed his mouth with a glare. “You know, maybe I liked you better when you were unconscious…” Dirk laughed and Todd gave him an annoyed-ly fond frown. He shifted his foot, bumping against his backpack on the floor, his eyes widening in realization. “Oh, hang on, I brought you something.” Dirk cocked his head in interest as Todd picked the backpack up off the floor.

“What? Really?” Dirk watched as a familiar yellow came into view as Todd unzipped the backpack. He felt his heart flip, and he gasped as Todd laid his leather jacket onto his lap. Dirk ran his fingers over the silver zipper, and turned to Todd, ready to thank him when Todd shoved another handful of cloth into his hand. “Oh, uh…”

“It’s just… uh… one of my band T-shirts… figured you might want something comfortable to wear out of the hospital… and you know, your jacket, of course.” Dirk was, for once, speechless. He opened his mouth, trying to find the words, blinking away tears, and just settled for smiling and nodding as he ran his fingers on the soft gray material of the shirt. Todd picked at the edge of the shirt still hanging off the edge of the bed. “And I don’t have many of these left, so… try not to bleed all over this one, okay?” Dirk smiled, and looked back up at Todd.

“Thank you. This is…” He sucked in a breath, shaking his head again. “Thank you.” He nodded. There was something in Todd’s eyes when he looked back at Dirk, something that Dirk hadn’t noticed before, that he wanted to figure out, but the door was suddenly shoved open, Dirk’s nurse holding a steaming cup in her hand, and when they turned back to each other, the moment was gone.

“Got your tea, dear.” She noticed Todd sitting beside the bed. “Oh good, your partner’s awake. Another nurse is headed by to change your bandages.” Todd blushed, looking anywhere but at Dirk who was wearing a similar expression. Dirk took the offered cup from the nurse gratefully, and carefully blew over it as she pulled his tray table over the bed for him. Todd moved the jacket and shirt to the end of the bed, out of the potential spill zone.

“Thank you.” Dirk said, mostly to the nurse, but also to Todd. The nurse nodded, looking between both of them with a smile, and then walked back out of the room. Dirk sniffed hesitantly at the steam wafting from the cup and narrowed his eyes. He sniffed again more forcefully, like he was trying to decide if what was entering his nose was going to kill him or not. Todd watched him smiling fondly. Dirk glanced over, raising his eyebrows at Todd from behind the cup. “What?”

“Nothing.” Todd shook his head, still smiling, and leaned back in his chair.

“Right...” Dirk blew one more time on the warm liquid and carefully took a sip before he unceremoniously spat it back into the cup and shoved it onto the table, with a betrayed look on his face. Todd laughed, and Dirk turned to him with a glare. “That is the worst cup of tea I have ever tasted in my life. I’m not even exaggerating! I swear, you Americans and your so-called tea. She probably made this in a microwave… or with like a dirty puddle of water she found on the pavement.” He shivered in disgust, eyeing the cup like it might suddenly burst out of the cup and force it’s way back into his mouth.

“What? You really expected gourmet tea from a hospital?” Todd rolled his eyes. Dirk glared while trying to get the taste off his tongue.

“Ugh. I think they actually had better tea when I was in Blackwing. And that place was the worst.” Todd’s eyes widened at Dirk’s mention of Blackwing. He wasn’s sure how to respond to that…especially considering Dirk’s visitor from earlier… Dirk seemed to notice his discomfort. “Sorry.” Todd shook his head, swallowing thickly.

“Dirk-”

“Not really something I want to talk about right now… I shouldn’t have mentioned it.” Dirk fiddled with the edge of the cup of tea. Todd looked at him carefully. He had to tell him. They were being honest with each other. Dirk needed to know.

“I know… it’s a touchy subject… but Dirk, I need to tell you something. Earlier, when I came in-” Dirk grabbed Todd’s hand.

“I know they’re still coming for me, Todd. You don’t have to…” He sighed and glanced at the door. “Are they here? Are they waiting for me?” Todd frowned and shrugged.

“I…I don’t know. When I came in, they said some man with a moustache and military ID visited you, saying he was your father. I think I saw him leaving when I was walking in. I don’t know if there’s anymore.” Dirk seemed to process what Todd said, and nodded, surprisingly calm.

“Colonel Riggins. The man that approached me the other night at your apartment building I told you about.” He sighed. “Not really much I can do about it though. If they really want me, if that where I’m supposed to be-” His hand squeezed Todd’s. The heart monitor beeped faster, suddenly aggressively loud in the quiet room.

“Dirk?” Todd stroked Dirk’s hand. Dirk shook his head and squeezed his eyes closed.

“I really don’t want to go back there.” His voice was suddenly very small. Todd stood up from his chair and pulled Dirk into his arms, being careful around his injured shoulder. Dirk sunk into the embrace, gratefully, breathing heavily. Todd could feel his body shaking slightly.

“You won’t. Dirk, okay? You won’t. Farah and I, we’ll keep you safe. And even if they do find you, we’ll track you down, and bust in, guns blazing, and get you out of there. You’re not alone anymore, okay?” He felt Dirk nodding in his arms, a wet warmth soaking into his shirt where Dirk had pressed his face. Todd brought a hand up to stroke the back of Dirk’s head gently. “Look, Farah wanted to meet up a little later today, once you’re out of here, and we can talk to her then. She’ll know what to do. We’ll make a plan, and figure something out.” Dirk sniffled and pulled away, looking up at Todd with red-rimmed eyes. He nodded. “Okay?”

“Okay… I mean I highly doubt that you, or Farah, even with her impressive number of guns and ninja-like fighting skills, will be able to take on a secret military organization, but it’s a nice sentiment, Todd. Thank you.” Todd frowned. Dirk raised his eyebrows. “I’m not trying to be sarcastic right now. It really does make me feel better, Todd. I never had anyone before that even wanted to try to be there for me, so I really do appreciate it.” Todd nodded before he sat back down in his chair, returning his hand to rest on Dirk’s. Dirk smiled softly. The heart monitor was back to being a steady background noise. Todd’s eyes fell on Dirk’s abandoned disgusting tea.

“You want me to go down and see if I can find you some better tea?” Dirk’s eyes crinkled into a smile, and he shook his head.

“Don’t want you to go anywhere,” he said pulling Todd’s hand to his chest. Todd felt his heart twist. “Besides, I don’t have any faith that you would be able to tell the difference between actual tea and this cup of sewage either.” Todd let his mouth fall open.

“Wow. That seems very rude.” Dirk shrugged with one shoulder.

“Maybe that’s me now. Maybe I’m just a rude detective man.” Todd responded with a disgustingly fond look and shook his head. Dirk blushed.

They heard the door push open again, and didn’t pull apart until the new nurse came over to the bed to change Dirk’s bandages, giving them both step by step instructions on how to do it, that neither of them will probably remember later, and will have to try and get Farah’s help with figuring it out. Todd grimaced at the sight of the arrow wound on the front of Dirk’s shoulder, angry stitches pulling his skin into place again. Dirk’s lips pressed tightly together as the nurse gently placed the fresh gauze over the wound and wrapped the clean bandage around his shoulder. A woman walked through the door as the nurse finished with the bandage, her hair neatly tucked into a bun behind her head, and smiled at Dirk, as she picked up the chart from the end of the bed.

“Mr. Gently?” Dirk nodded. “I’m Dr. Peyton. You’re looking much better than when you came in last night. How are you feeling?” Dirk nodded, shifting his shoulder slightly to adjust with the tightness of the fresh bandages.

“Good. Fine. A bit sore, I think whatever you people gave me is wearing off.” Dr. Peyton nodded, and pulled an orange bottle from the pocket of her white coat.

“That’s normal. You’re going to be sore for a while. Fortunately, the arrows missed some important muscles and tendons, so you should be able to make a full recovery as long as you complete your physical therapy sessions. You’re very lucky. Most shoulder injuries can lead to extremely limited range of motion, if those arrows had hit you anywhere else or any deeper, you may have had a much more difficult recovery.” Dirk nodded, trying to keep himself from rolling his eyes. Stupid universe and it’s stupid precisely hitting arrows…just enough to not kill him or seriously injure him, just enough to remind him who’s in charge…again. Dr. Peyton held up the pill bottle and gave a quick explanation of how much Dirk needed to take and when. Dirk stared up at her, his eyes glazing over, too much words for having just barely woken up from a night of almost dying. Todd was fighting to listen closely to her instructions. The doctor finished talking and held the pill bottle out to Dirk, who took them slowly. Dr. Peyton said something else Dirk didn’t quite hear. He saw her mouth moving, but the words blurred into the soft hum of the room, the only sound he could make out, the steady beep of the machine next to his bed. Dr. Peyton pursed her lip and looked at Todd pointedly, raising her eyebrows.

“I’ll make sure he takes them at the right times. Got it all here.” He said tapping his head. Dr. Peyton didn’t respond, and then nodded at them both.

“Alright, well, you’re all set then. Your nurse will be back in a few minutes to help get you all sorted, and then you’re free to go.”

Dirk nodded. His head felt fuzzy and the pain in his shoulder had started to burn and itch under the bandages.

“Thank you, doctor.” Todd said. The doctor left, swinging the door shut behind her, and leaving them once again shut away in the sterile silence of the room. Todd absently rubbed his neck. His brief nap in the hospital chair had left his muscles feeling more sore than they had when he arrived earlier and now that his brain wasn’t distracted by his Dirk guilt, his body decided to remind him of all the pain he was in.

Dirk picked at the lid of the pill bottle, fighting to steady his breath, and breathe through the steadily increasing pain. The fact that he was holding a bottle filled with pain medication that could help treat the pain was out of his capability to understand in the current state of his mind. He leaned forward, bringing his knees up towards his chest, and rested his head down on his uninjured arm, trying to hide the groan that escaped his throat.

“Dirk?” Todd leaned over to try to get a closer look at Dirk’s now hidden face, and laid his hand on his back, gently stroking it up to his neck, and resting at the edge of Dirk’s hair. He felt Dirk relax into his touch, and sigh softly. Todd’s fingers combed up the back of Dirk’s scalp, through the fine auburn strands, just as soft as Todd would have imagined them to be. He tried to ignore the warm feeling filling up his chest, panicking at feeling something that he hadn’t let himself feel, he hadn’t deserved to feel... or thought he was capable of feeling. Dirk groaned again, louder, obviously in pain. Todd noticed the pill bottle wrapped in his hand. He reached out with his other hand, pausing before he grabbed it.

“Dirk, can I-?“ Dirk nodded into his arm and loosened his grip without looking up, and Todd took the bottle from him. He reluctantly removed his other hand from Dirk’s head, and opened the bottle, carefully shaking two pills into his hand, pouring a cup of water from a pitcher on the tray table next to him, and holding them out to Dirk. “Here, take these.”

Dirk turned his head, so he could look at Todd, still leaned against his knees. His eyes were heavy. His lips turned up slightly and he nodded in appreciation before sitting up with a groan. He swallowed the pills with an audible gulp and quick swallow of water and sighed falling back into his pillow. His legs slipped back down flat on the bed. Dirk breathed stiffly, shutting his eyes, but he dropped his hand back down on the bed near Todd, letting it hang open, invitingly. Todd paused, unsure for a moment before Dirk twitched his fingers, and raised his eyebrows, his eyes still closed. Todd smiled and laid his hand on top of Dirk’s, letting their fingers interlock. Dirk sighed.

They sat quietly. Dirk breathed steady and deliberate breaths as he waited for the medication to calm the burning edges of the pain in his shoulder. Todd watched him, studying the way the dim light from the window cast pale shadows across his face, the way the front of his hair was stuck straight out from his forehead in an endearingly chaotic way, the way his muscles tensed and relaxed under the skin of his neck. He was calmed by the warmth of Dirk’s hand in his, the light flutter of his pulse. Todd let his mind drift away with the steady beeps, as they waited to leave, both ignoring for a moment the danger that inevitably would find them outside the door.

#brotzly #dirk gently #todd brotzman #dirk gently's holistic detective agency #dghda #my fic #ao3

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