samsonet

[samsonet]

Power Trip

In which Piers is an actual bad guy and does actual bad guy-things.

*

Obstruct is a dark-type move. It’s unique among dark-type moves in that it is a straightforward block. In fact, it works remarkably like the move King’s Shield. But while Aegislash is the partner of kings, Obstagoon have traditionally been seen with traitors and outcasts.

Piers made his peace long ago with being the outcast of the league. They get a heel, and he gets a nice paycheck and a region-wide audience. He’s always been more comfortable as an outsider anyway. After all, he’s from Spikemuth.

The crowd roars when Leon’s Aegislash protects itself. They jeer when Obstagoon does the same.

Not like it matters, anyway. Of course Leon wins.

The champion grins as they shake hands, praising Piers on training his Pokémon so well. There’s no use returning the compliment. He gives a strained smile and waves dismissively to the cameras as he walks off the pitch.

“Leader Piers! Why didn’t you Dynamax when Leon did?”

“Do you think your unusual battle style caused your defeat today?”

“Can you tell us about the album you’re currently working on?”

He doesn’t answer any of them. He doesn’t have to; his contract is very clear that he is only obligated to talk to reporters at press events, and only if he’s been given twenty-four hours’ notice that there will be a press event. Besides, the questions they’re asking now will just have the same answers he’s given before. He hates repeating himself.

*

Aura Wheel is a dark-type move. Or it is half the time, anyway. It’s funny. While the dark type is mostly defined by pragmatic actions, it is also associated with, well, darkness. There’s no “light” type, but if there was one, it would be electric.

Piers congratulates himself again on choosing the perfect partner for his sister.

He wants Marnie to shine. He may be biased, but he thinks she's the most amazing person on earth. She’s a good person, better than he is, and she’s a good battler, better than he is. If anyone deserves to be champion, it’s her.

But success in the league takes more than talent. It takes a willingness to follow the league’s standards, it takes well-faked enthusiasm, it takes marketability.

So Piers is more than willing to use his influence to give her an edge.

He starts with his gym trainers’ admiration of Marnie, encouraging them to cheer for her at her matches. He gives them a name: Team Yell. Soon there are others joining the fan club. Nobody complains about his directions.

Fandom is part of the spectacle of the league. Piers is the leader of Team Yell, but officially, he’s not responsible for any mild mischief a fan gets up to. He doesn’t even direct them to do much. At least, he doesn’t direct the grunts. His gym trainers, yeah, they do the important stuff.

Rose is up to something. It’s big — Piers knows this because every project the chairman takes on is. It’s shady — Piers knows this because it’s not like the man to keep his projects quiet.

He sends Team Yell around the region and does some investigating himself. Nobody questions why Piers is suddenly showing up to league meetings; they’re just happy that he is. He comes to Rose Tower when he’s invited, and he stays even after the meetings are over. He walks through the lesser-used stairways, down the closed-to-the-public halls.

That’s when he hears the name Eternatus.

Luckily for him, Macro Cosmos’ grunts don’t seem to realize the importance of secrets. From scattered conversations he figures out that there’s a great big something in Hammerlocke, under the energy plant. It’s not league-approved, but then Rose is perhaps the only man in Galar more powerful than the league.

If Piers is smart, he can find a way to use this.

So he starts spending more time in Hammerlocke. It’s fun, actually; he and Raihan are friends, and they’ve managed to make a lot of progress on their DnD campaign. They even train together sometimes, making use of Raihan’s 24/7 access to the stadium.

Being a specialist means knowing when to taunt and when to flatter.

* He’s hanging out with Raihan when the latter says, “Wanna see something?”

Of course.

Raihan slides his key card by the elevator and takes him to the bottom floor.

The basement smells of gasoline. There’s a large orb in the center of the room; this, Raihan tells him, is Eternatus. See the tubes here? That’s where Rose is going to store the energy of the Pokemon. See this gadget here, only a couple inches bigger than Raihan’s hand? It’s Rose’s plan B, meant to control the beast if it gets out of hand.

Raihan starts his explanation calmly, but as he goes into detail, a touch of hysteria enters his voice.

“All this… It’s scary, right? This thing is so powerful and we’re depending on a piece of metal to control it. Literally nobody else seems to have a problem with it. That’s weird, isn’t it? Or is it weird that I’m terrified?”

“Not weird at all, mate. I’ll admit it’s giving me the creeps, too,” he says. But his eyes are drawn to that blinking piece of metal on the table.

The control switch. Something that would reverse the power of the wishing stars and calm the monster down.

It’s not that he thinks his little sister can’t beat Leon legitimately. She definitely can. But he taught her to use dark-types, and dark-types don’t play fair if they can help it.

When Raihan’s back is turned, Piers snatches up the switch and slides it in his sleeve. It fits comfortably between his wrist and elbow. If he curls his fingers just so, he can hold it in place without being obvious.

Sorry, Leon, he thinks. It’s nothing personal.

Thief is a dark-type move, too.

*

Piers meets Leon’s brother soon after. The kid is bright, and he definitely has talent of his own. He does tend to overthink things, but Piers has seen worse flaws. The Yell grunts say that this kid made Marnie smile within five minutes of meeting her. Anyone who can do that has earned some respect in Spikemuth.

“Good job, kid. You’ve got style.”

Hop beams. “Thanks! See you later!”

Leon’s other endorsee? Well, she exists. She arrives, she wins, she leaves. Real quiet, that one.

He doesn’t see them again until the night of the semifinals, when Marnie comes to him in her version of a panic. Her friends (friends!) Gloria and Hop were waiting for Leon to meet with them, but he never showed. They’re worried. Marnie’s worried. Piers is not. He suspects he knows where Leon is, and why.

(Rose loves his speeches.)

He sends the kids on a fool’s errand with the excuse of distracting the Macro Cosmos trainers. While they’re gone, he heads up the tower himself. All it takes is a few psychic commands from Malamar to get a lift key and remove distractions.

On the top floor, Piers makes his presence known. “Hey.”

That gets Rose to shut up. Hard to monologue when there are witnesses, hm?

“Yer brother’s waitin’ for ya. You’d better go get him that dinner you promised.” He gives Rose a steady glare. “Unless I’m interruptin’ somethin’?”

The chairman smiles. “It’s alright. Leon, think about what I said.”

For most of the elevator ride down, Leon is quiet. Then he says, “Thanks for rescuing me. You’re a good friend, Piers.”

“Don’t say that. I’ve got a reputation t’ uphold.”

*

As expected, Rose’s plan goes horribly wrong. The safeguards fail; Leon is called to Hammerlocke; all of Galar gets to see just what kind of men their chairman and champion are.

Marnie’s friends try to leave the stadium. Hop is determined to help Lee, apparently, even though Leon is the unbeatable champion and Hop has nowhere near the experience or raw strength his brother does.

Piers knows he’s a bastard, but he isn’t going to let Marnie’s friends get themselves killed on a hopeless mission.

“You can’t just run off to Leon an’ leave me all alone. I’m bored. Do me a favor an’ keep me company here, yeah?”

“No!” Hop cries. “Lee needs us! We won’t let you stand in our way!”

It’s heartwarming that Hop wants to rescue his brother. Piers is sympathetic, even.

But he will not allow these kids to interfere.

“Then I think I’ll invite Team Yell along, and we'll have ourselves a bit of fun, shall we?”

#piers pokemon #pokemon swsh fanfic

[samsonet]

Champion Strategies, chapter 4

[read the entire fic here!]

The next morning Leon teaches his brother to shave. Hop gets a kick out of it, laughing at how silly they look with their faces covered in shaving cream. He shaves his lower legs, too, even though Leon tells him he doesn’t need to.

“I just wanna make sure I’m doing it right, that’s all.” He runs his hand on his shin. “Wow. It’s so smooth!”

His good mood seems to be strong, because he doesn’t complain a bit when Leon has to take a call about the Battle Tower. Al Rent’s rain team is having some trouble, and he wants to give them a vacation. He’s got a sandstorm-based team ready to substitute, if that’s alright.

“Of course. You should give all the teams a vacation; they deserve it. No need to worry about substitutes.” That is what the owners of other regions’ battle facilities would say, right? “Ah, I’m sorry, I just got a message.”

Al cheerfully thanks him and hangs up.

The message, it turns out, is not related to work. It’s from Raihan.

[Raihan:] How’s the little guy doing?

[Leon:] He’s good. Seemed moody yesterday but he’s fine today

[Raihan:] Glad 2 hear it. Im gonna be in wyndon today, can I come over at 3?

[Leon:] Sure

*

When Leon enters the living room, he finds Hop giggling over his phone.

“What are you looking at, buddy?”

Dutifully, Hop hands over his phone.

It’s a video of Gloria. She’s standing in front of a mirror, holding her Eevee in one hand and the phone in the other. She’s making silly faces, which Eevee copies as best as it can.

“Oh. This is her TikTok?” Of course Gloria would be making videos for it. She’s at that age where a lot of her peers are on the site; being there is a way of keeping up with kids her age even when champion duties keep her busy.

“Yup!”

Leon pulls up the app on his phone. He’d made his own account about a month ago, looked at some cute Yamper videos but hadn’t posted anything himself. Now is the perfect time to change that.

“Hey, can you teach me how to make a TikTok video?”

Hop looks up in surprise. “You have an account? What’s your username?”

“Leon-dot-Wyndon.” He would’ve chosen @ChampionLeon, @Leon1, @CharizardFan1, or even @LeonReyesOfficial, but somehow every one of those has already been taken.

A soft ping announces that @HopReyes189 has followed him.

“Okay, I can show you how to do a dance, and then I’ll record you on your phone and you can post it.”

The dance Hop teaches him is called the “Ribombee.” It has a lot of quick movements, and it takes a few tries for him to remember them all in order.

“Alright, now I’m gonna play the music, and you do the dance when I tell you to.”

The music is cheerful, with a nice beat and lyrics so fast they’re hard to make out. He likes it.

“Okay, now.”

The whole dance takes about twenty seconds. His professional training has taught him to smile and keep eye contact with the camera, but this is a rare non-battle instance where he actually likes what he’s doing.

Hop gives the signal to stop.

“How’d I do?”

“You need to do it again.”

“Huh? Why?”

“Because nobody posts their first take of a meme,” Hop says, matter-of-factly. “You have to do it a few times and pick the best one.”

“I see, I see.”

They record four more takes of the Ribombee. Together they agree that the second take was the best. Hop shows him how to upload, what hashtags to put in the caption, and how to highlight it.

“A lot of people will probably follow you when they realize it’s really your account. It’s like Chattr but there are a lot of teenagers, so don’t feel too bad if they make fun of you. Later I can teach you about sea shanties.”

“Sounds good. Wait. You’ll teach me about what?”

*

At three, Raihan arrives. He’s got that cat’s-mouth expression Leon knows so well, and he’s holding something behind his back. Rotom floats beside him, camera aimed at Hop.

“What are you hiding?”

Raihan slaps his left hand to his chest, a movement of mock insult. “I’ll have you know that I am hiding nothing... well, okay, I do have some amazing news, but I was trying to build up to it. You know?”

“Oh, really.” He leads him to the couch in the living room, remains standing even as Raihan makes himself comfortable, quickly hiding the mysterious object in the pocket of his hoodie. “Let me guess. Some magazine wants us on the cover again?”

“Ah-ah-ah! This good news isn’t for either of us. It’s for your little bro.”

With one long motion, he pulls out the object. It’s a large envelope, printed with rust red and dark blue. Hammerlocke University colors.

Hop takes the envelope with wide eyes. He looks at the addresses, then tears it open and pulls out the papers.

“Is this…” A gasp. “I got accepted!”

“Accepted?”

Raihan says, “He applied to Hammerlocke. Hammerlocke asked me if the kid who applied was the same one who battled my gym. They were definitely impressed.”

Leon is still processing it. “You applied there? When? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“A-a few months ago. I was only going to tell you if I got in. I thought you didn’t like Hammerlocke University, you know, because of…”

Raihan and Leon glance at each other. They laugh.

“No, it’s a great school. Of course I’m worried about you being on your own, but… I know you’ll be fine. You survived the gym challenge, didn’t you?” He rubs his knuckles on the top of Hop’s head. “Good job, Hopscotch.”

Raihan leans back. “I won’t lie to you, being Leon’s brother didn’t hurt your chances. But Hammerlocke is putting you on their league team, meaning they think you’re good enough to represent them in front of the whole region.” He preens a little. “I was on their team during undergrad. You’ve got a lot to live up to, little champ!”

“Oh, please.” Leon grins. “When Hop gets there, everyone’ll be be calling him the best Hammerlocke ever had!”

He pats Hop on the back. His brother is grinning widely, face flushed from the excitement.

“And I’ve got another surprise for you.” Raihan goes back to the door, sticks his head out, and calls, “You two! We’re ready!”

In three seconds, Gloria and Sonia are in the flat. They’ve brought bags full of colorful items. Gloria has cupcakes. It looks like the three of them have planned it all out. Leon isn’t mad, though. This is the perfect situation for a small surprise party.

Hop greets his friend with an expression of pure joy on his face. It’s wonderful to watch. Leon stands with the other adults as the kids talk about what this means.

“How long have you been planning this?” he asks in a low voice.

“Raihan got the news yesterday morning. We came today because Gloria got some free time.” Sonia puts her hand on her cheek. Her fingernails have been painted rust red and dark blue. “We figured telling him here would make the whole thing more exciting.”

“Thank you, both of you. For today, but also for everything you’ve done for him. I… I’m so glad he has you two to look out for him.”

Raihan gives him the soft, friendly smile that he never shows online. “Hey. He’s got the best big brother in the world, too.”

*

The celebration lasts for a few hours, with the five of them talking and laughing. Eventually Gloria yawns, and Sonia takes the opportunity to say goodbye and take her home. Raihan follows with one last “congratulations” to Hop.

Then they are alone.

Leon looks at Hop, and his chest hurts from just how much he’s feeling. Joy, affection, pride, love — it’s overwhelming. His little brother is so smart. So talented. So amazing. He’s so lucky to have him.

Leon hugs his brother tight.

“I’m so proud of you. I love you so much.”

Hop hugs back. When he pulls away, he’s smiling.

#champion leon #hop pokemon #pokemon swsh fanfic

[samsonet]

Sunlight

Trigger warning for suicidal thoughts.

Leon reaches the top of the mountain and admits he’s lost. Sure, getting lost was technically part of the plan. He’s regretting it now, though.

Going without a guide was self-sabotage. His league-appointed therapist recognized this kind of thing in their sessions, gave him the word for it, told him to look out for it. And then her notes got to Rose, and Leon suddenly had to deal with league-official babysitters to make sure he ate every day and didn’t overwork himself to the point of injury. They treated him like he was a child —and in a way, he was, wasn’t he? A spoiled child who needed someone else to cook for him and got lost because he never paid attention to his surroundings.

The Wild Area is rather pretty this time of day. Sometimes it’s foggy or stormy, but today there’s just sunlight and strong wind. It’s a nice place to rest a while.

But he can’t wait for long. He only has an hour to get to Wyndon. He should probably call someone to come get him.

Or not.

The league is particular about timing. They have to be; people pay good money to see a match when it’s scheduled. So if there’s a match and one trainer doesn’t show up at the scheduled starting time, they have fifteen minutes to make it. After that, it counts as a forfeit — a loss — and their opponent is declared the winner.

The closest city is probably Hammerlocke. If someone started from there right now, they could probably find Leon and get him to Wyndon with ten minutes to spare. If Leon waited twenty minutes before calling…

He lets himself fantasize about it for a minute. He gets to the stadium, out of breath and apologetic. Maybe the stadium boos. Maybe Rose looks disappointed. Leon will apologize, make some speech about how he’s grown lazy and he’s sure he would have lost against Raihan anyway. (He’s sure he wouldn’t, but narratives have to be framed as quickly as possible.)

He’d take off his cape with a smooth motion, bow in front of Raihan, and give it to him. Then he’d walk out of the stadium, a civilian and not a champion, free to do whatever he wished without worrying about his image.

Raihan might feel betrayed; he might take it as Leon giving up on him as a rival. In a way, he’d be right. But wouldn’t he be happier in the end? He deserves the championship. He works so hard for it. He loves battling, and more importantly, he loves the spotlight. He enjoys being a celebrity, smiling in interviews, people thirsting over him.

Leon can’t remember the last time he really liked being champion. He likes battling, sometimes. He likes interacting with fans, when he has the energy for it. The things he used to enjoy don’t give him the same happiness that they used to. It takes more energy just to get out of bed in the morning, much less all the other things Champion Leon the Undefeated does.

But Raihan wouldn’t have any problems with the duties of the champion. Raihan would love all of it, unconditionally.

The league might not, though. Leon doesn’t know if they’d risk accusations of foul play to look past the rule and allow him to fight in the match, but they might. He makes a lot of money for them, and if he doesn’t perform there could be consequences for both him and Raihan.

The fans, too. Leon cringes when he remembers them: the trolls who love posting insults under Raihan’s posts. If he won the championship from a technicality, they’d never let him live it down.

Well, maybe Leon won’t show up late. Maybe he just won’t show up at all. There’s not much time for a cab to come from Hammerlocke and take him to Wyndon. Maybe he’ll climb down from here, find a nice cave and… rest. Someone would find him eventually; it would look like a horrible accident.

In the grand scheme of things, he thinks, is anyone really going to miss me?

Is there really a Leon to miss?

A Corviknight cries out. Seconds later, the taxi touches down on the plateau. Out jumps a boy in hospital clothes. He has the same look on his face that Hop gets when Leon surprises him with a visit.

When Leon tells them he got lost, neither the boy nor the taxi driver press him further.

#leon pokemon #champion leon #pokemon swsh fanfic

[samsonet]

types

If Hop were a gym leader, he’d specialize in the normal type.

It’s more of a fantasy than an actual goal, though he knows if he really tried he could probably take one of the eight positions. Hop prefers the chaos of the lab to that of a stadium, all things considered. But he still thinks about it.

There’s something to be said for the way gym leaders battle against each other. It’s different from fighting challengers. It would be different, if Hop was a gym leader, when he faced Bede in the tournaments.

Where fairies are symbols of mischief and trickery, normal-types are straightforward. Dependable. Neither type has an advantage over the other, yet Hop has to wonder if one battle style is more likely to win.

He sends out Dubwool against Bede’s Mawile. Hop smiles and his boyfriend smirks, and the battle begins.

#drabble a day challenge #hop pokemon #bede pokemon

[samsonet]

bitter

“I’m telling you, Marnie, Tom Nook and Redd are exes!”

“Glo, if you try t’ tell me another hour-long game theory — are you pullin’ out a whiteboard?”

“I was up till two in the morning thinking about this! I’ve got evidence! See, Tom Nook said that Redd was his partner, right? And now he’s warning the players not to get scammed by him.”

“And? How does that mean that they ever dated? Maybe Tom jus’ hates him because of the fake art.”

“I mean, that could be it, but imagine it! Young Tom Nook, idealistic and excited. He meets a partner who seems to love him, who has the same vision he does. And then! Redd steals his bells and breaks his heart! So Tom starts a new life on a deserted island, lonely and wistful…”

“So you’re sayin’ Tom is the one still pinin’? After Redd?”

“Yup!”

“Hm.”

“...is this making you uncomfortable? I can stop.”

“No, I was jus’ givin’ you a hard time. Hm... Okay, Glo, I’m interested, but hear me out… Redd is the one who still loves Tom. He stole the bells because that’s what he does and he can’t change his nature — or so he thinks. It’s only later, when he realizes he still loves ‘im, that Redd decides he wants t’ try again. So he finds Tom’s island and comes t’ visit.”

“Oh! Ohhhh! Marnie, that idea is galaxy-brained! I love it!”

“I was jus’ spinning off what ya said. Wait — where are ya goin’?”

“To get my phone! You gotta post that on Chattr so I can retweet it!”

“Heh… Yer cute when ya get excited, ya know that?”

“That’s why you love me!”

#drabble a day challenge #gloria pokemon #marnie pokemon

[samsonet]

competition

“Something wrong?”

“Nothing, sorry, Bede. I was just thinking.”

“About?”

“Well... Lee. Everything’s a competition with him.”

“I would assume so. You don’t get to be a champion without a competitive spirit.”

“No, you don’t understand. I don’t think he even realizes he’s doing it, but he does it with everything. I say ‘I love you,’ he says, ‘I love you more.’”

“That seems… rough.”

“Yeah.”

“...”

“...”

“I love you, Bede.”

“I… love you equally?”

“Heh. There, you got it.”

#drabble a day challenge #bede pokemon #hop pokemon

[samsonet]

celebrity beef

There are three dynamics the paparazzi can’t get enough of: passionate love, passionate rivalry… and passionate hate.

Nessa’s aiming for love with Sonia. She’s trying for rivalry with Milo. What’s left of her heart — the part that hates — belongs to Piers.

Theoretically, anyway.

*

Nessa’s halfway through her glass of wine when the room goes silent.

The reason for the silence holds his head up high, lip curled as though he’s physically restraining himself from calling everyone tossers.

Talk about a first impression.

Piers Camburn, Spikemuth’s gym leader. Piers Camburn, the one trainer in the league who refuses to Dynamax. Piers Camburn, the grungy punk rocker who is the complete opposite of Nessa and everything Hulbury represents.

It’s a recurring plotline, this beef they have going. Nessa is proud, almost Mean Girl-ishly so. Piers is stubborn, digging in his skull-studded heels when anyone dares ask him to follow the same rules as everyone else.

The event photographers get their shots. Nessa is expecting that, even counting on it.

There are three dynamics the paparazzi can’t get enough of: passionate love, passionate rivalry… and passionate hate.

Nessa’s aiming for love with Sonia. She’s trying for rivalry with Milo. What’s left of her heart — the part that hates — belongs to Piers.

Theoretically, anyway.

She watches from across the room, looking for her sign.

Piers makes eye contact with her. He licks his lips, their signal.

She turns to Kabu and Milo and says, “I just remembered. I left my purse downstairs — could you get it for me? I’d go myself, but I’m wearing heels.”

Kabu raises an eyebrow, then casts a meaningful look toward Piers. He must know she’s just trying to get them out of the way.

What he says, though, is “what does your purse look like?”

In minutes he and Milo are out of the room. Nessa takes another sip of her wine.

Then she says, in a voice soft enough to be plausibly private but loud enough to definitely be heard, “Look who the Purrloin dragged in.”

Right on cue, Piers turns to glare at her. “Something to share with the class, Ms. Hannan?”

“Oh, nothing,” she says, raising her glass to her lips. The merlot is bitter, delicious. “Just surprised you decided to come, considering you’ve blown off the last six events.”

The other guests retreat near the walls, clearing a battleground. Nessa knows this movement well: it’s how the Chewtle act when Golisopod and Grapploct prepare to fight.

Piers stares at her like he’s sizing her up. “Some of us need to care for our gyms, Ness’. We ain’t all spoiled models like you.”

“Some of us know how to accept help, Piers.”

Strike. Dodge. Strike again. Their argument is a dance. In her mind, Nessa sets it to music.

It’s not a party without a little drama.

“How’s Hulbury treating you lately?” Piers asks. “Having fun down there at the bottom of the league?”

“It’s wonderful. How’s your stadium? Oh, right. You don’t have one, because you’re so special you can fight without Dynamaxing.”

They’ve got rules about this: battle skill, personal aesthetic, their friends, whatever — almost anything is fair game. The only parts that aren’t are their Pokémon and their sisters.

Piers has a sharp tongue, but so does Nessa. She knows neither of them take it personally.

“Bold words for someone who’s never struggled a day in her life.”

“I’ve fought and won what I have! You were given everything!”

They let the tension hang for a moment.

“Don’t talk to me about competition until you prove you’re worth it.” Then Piers gives the signal that he’s ready to end this: “Even Milo doesn’t think you’re good enough to be his rival.”

(That’s another reason why she had to get Milo out of the way before they started.)

Nessa gasps loudly, putting on her most offended expression. She stomps up to Piers and gets in his space, so close their noses almost touch.

“You. Don’t. Know. Anything. About us.”

Piers snorts.

Nessa takes her wine glass and pours it over his head.

*

Melony insists on taking Nessa home after that. Probably some motherly instincts or whatnot. Nessa allows the other to walk her out of the ballroom, noting with some satisfaction that the great Raihan is leading Piers out the other door.

Later that night, after she gets Melony to go back to Circhester, Nessa heads to Spikemuth.

Piers lets her in through the side gate. Nobody is around to see them. Even if they were, people in Spikemuth know not to mess in their gym leader’s business.

Which is good. Because for all the wine she’d sipped at the party, Nessa’s looking forward to hitting the hard stuff.

Piers doesn’t disappoint.

“Well,” he says, slamming down his whiskey glass, “if that doesn’t get us trending on Chattr, I don’t know what will.”

Nessa downs hers. “Cheers to that.”

Because that’s what it’s all about, in the end. Fights mean drama, drama means attention, attention means tickets to their next exhibition match will sell out in minutes.

Good for Nessa. Good for Piers. Good for Hulbury and Spikemuth.

And all it takes is pretending they can’t stand each other.

Nessa pours another glass.

She sips this one, savoring the burn. “My sponsors are getting on my case again.”

“Wankers.” That’s Piers, always taking her side without even asking if she might be in the wrong. “What is it now?”

“Social media presence. I got tagged in an unflattering photo and they’re mad.”

“Tossers. What other people post is not your problem.”

“Exactly! I love being a gym leader, don’t get me wrong, but — Arceus. I wish they’d leave me the fuck alone sometimes.”

Piers nods sympathetically. Nessa remembers, vaguely, that he doesn’t deal with sponsors, because Spikemuth gym is sponsored by Spikemuth’s own chamber of commerce. He doesn’t get the money that Nessa does, but he doesn’t have to deal with the headaches either.

Now that she’s vented a bit, she tries to think of something a bit more fun to talk about. “How’s Marnie doing?

This gets a genuine smile from him. “She’s great. I’m teaching her type advantages. She’s got a real knack for it, you know? In a couple of years she’ll be strong enough to beat Leon. Heh… What about your sister? Dart, right? She doing okay?”

“Dart’s alright. She hates your guts. Sorry about that, I can’t tell her the truth or she’ll be blabbing to everybody about it.”

“No problem. I get it.” Idly, he takes a lock of hair and starts twirling it. It’s a motion Nessa’s seen Sonia do a thousand times, but of course it looks different on Piers. Not least because that part of his usually-white hair has been stained pink from the wine she threw on him.

“Did you… were you going to take a shower? Sorry about that, I didn’t think it’d stain your hair.”

“It’s no problem,” he repeats. “It was going to stain anyway, with how long it took just to get here. It’ll go back to normal in a few weeks. Besides, havin’ it be visible like that, it’ll help sell the story, yeah?”

She nods. “Yeah… Well. I look forward to seeing Marnie challenge my gym. I promise I’ll be nice to her.”

“I promise to watch as she kicks yer arse. I’ll get the director’s cut, even.”

The director’s cut. For some reason, this strikes her as hilarious. She laughs loudly — and in a moment, Piers is laughing too.

They spend the next hour laughing together, enjoying the whiskey as the neon signs of Spikemuth flicker outside the window.

*

In the early hours of the morning, Nessa leaves the city. She calls a taxi from route nine, giving the driver a generous tip and requesting his silence.

By sunrise, she’s home.

#celebrity beef #nessa pokemon #piers pokemon

[samsonet]

spear’s mouth

The walled city has many enchantments. Marnie is at the root of many of them. It’s not her fault. It’s her brother’s enemies who realized that cursing her would hurt him most. They’re the ones who made her touch poisonous to the wells and the flowers, who stole the laughter from her throat and declared the curse could only be broken if she smiled.

She tries, truly. But whatever magic binds her does not find two fingers placed on the corners of her lips to be good enough.

When a new girl crashes into town waving a rusted sword and speaking of heroes and legends, Marnie expects her to leave like every other would-be hero has.

The girl grins, bright as the sun.

Marnie can’t help but smile back.

#drabble a day challenge #marnie pokemon #gloria pokemon

[samsonet]

don't need a rainbow here (my world is black and white)

Piers shouldn't be with these Rainbow Rocket weirdos.

*

There has been a terrible mistake.

One minute, Piers was celebrating his sister’s victory at the champion cup, and the next, he’s... He doesn’t know. There was a light, and he was falling, and —

and then he ended up here.

He sits up, rubbing his eyes. He doesn’t seem to be restrained, which is good. He’s not in a hospital, either, which is… probably good? Or it would be, if he had any idea what this place actually was.

It’s dark. There are red lights from the floor, the walls. It’s eerily quiet. Piers is reminded of one of the most boring clubs he’s ever been to — but at least this place smells alright. Small mercies.

“You’re awake.”

Oh, no.

Piers whips toward the voice, one hand going automatically to his belt for Obstagoon’s pokeball — but it’s not there. Of course. They must’ve taken his team while he was unconscious.

Well, if these bastards think he’ll be helpless without his Pokémon, they’re wrong. Piers may be scrawny and sick-looking, but he’s a dark-type specialist. He knows how to fight without brute force.

During this time, the other person in the room does not move to restrain him. In fact, all he does is give a quiet laugh.

Piers examines him. The other man is short, but he has an aura that fills the room. He’s wearing a suit with an R on the chest. He doesn’t seem like a corporate type — and Piers has seen more than his fair share of those — but rather like… a gang boss or something.

“Sorry if you were expecting a ransom,” Piers coughs out. “The league doesn’t care about the Spikemuth gym leader. They’ll tell you to keep me.”

But he’s not just the Spikemuth gym leader anymore, is he? He’s the champion’s brother. He knows Marnie would give anything to get him back safely.

“I must apologize. It seems we’ve started with a misunderstanding. You may call me Giovanni. And your name is…?”

Giovanni speaks with an accent similar to Kabu’s. Is he from one of the eastern regions? Stranger and stranger.

“...Piers.”

“Mr. Piers. I represent a coalition of certain people with… dark hearts, shall we say. We are working together for the time being. I believe you will fit in well with us.”

Piers blinks. What, is this an invitation to some interregional society of dark-type specialists? Which… would make a disturbing amount of sense with the kidnapping and all, but damn, what a stereotype.

“Yeah, mate, thanks but no thanks,” he says, standing up. “I don’t know how much ya heard from the news, but I can’t drop everything to join yer club. Nothing personal.”

Giovanni chuckles. “Come with me.”

Piers goes, partly because he’s curious, partly because it’s not like he can do anything else. He follows the man down a dark hallway, then through what seems to be a lobby, and then outside.

Outside is too hot. The sun is too bright. And the land… is not land.

It’s ocean, as far as the eye can see. In the distance, a flock of Wingull circle an island. Piers rubs his eyes, not quite believing what he’s seeing.

“As you may have noticed,” Giovanni says, “we are not in Galar at the moment.”

*

From there, Piers is more willing to listen. Giovanni gives him a tour, speaking vaguely about life in Kanto and the group’s current situation in Alola.

At the end, Piers is introduced to one young woman as something like his personal assistant.

“She speaks Galarian,” Giovanni explains. “Most of the other grunts don’t, so if you need something, come to her.”

She refuses to give him her name, making excuses about how the grunts weren’t supposed to use them, but she does allow him to call her J.

J’s alright. She reminds him of his gym trainers, in her earnestness and weirdness. She only comes when he calls for her. Otherwise, Piers is left to do as he pleases.

Right now he’s fine just staying in his room, occasionally going out to raid their kitchen or get fresh air.

At least his Pokemon are alright. Giovanni gives them back a few hours after showing Piers the ocean. Most of his team seems to notice no difference between this place and Spikemuth, but Obstagoon does. It’s simply not meant for such a warm climate.

Piers brings this up to J, and she agrees to set his room’s temperature to something more normal for Galar.

He trains. He sleeps. He keeps up his vocal exercises. It’s fine.

*

What Piers learns, over the course of a week, is this:

The multiverse exists, and he has traveled through it. Somehow, and nobody will explain how, Giovanni summoned Piers from the own world and has trapped him in this one.

In this world, Leon is still the champion. The date is a few years before Piers sent Marnie on her gym challenge, so it seems he has time traveled as well.

He’s not the only guest here, either. Around the building, there are others — but not dark-type specialists.

No, these people are gang leaders.

Piers sees them in passing, recognizing them and quickly making his escapes. There’s Ghetsis, the Unovan cult leader who attacked the league and came this close to destroying their government. There’s Archie and Maxie, the eco-terrorists who didn’t seem to understand that the earth needed both land and water. There’s Cyrus, who… Piers can’t even start with him.

Of course, just because these men were all would-be villains in his world, it didn’t mean they were the same in their home universes.

He asks J what their stories are.

“Oh. Uh, Maxie’s a real passionate sorta guy, even though he doesn’t look like it. He tried to summon this Pokémon in Hoenn, I don’t remember the name of it, wanted to use it to shrink the oceans, make more land.”

The rest of her stories pretty much follow what Piers read in the news, but for one key detail: back in their home universes, all the men had succeeded.

“You mean that guy Archie drowned the world? Nobody stopped him?”

“I’m sure Team Aqua survived?” J offers.

Piers stares in open-mouthed amazement. When he finds his words again, he asks, “And your boss doesn’t mind having these people here?”

“No? He likes them, I think? They all fit the same pattern, you know. Guy with vision leads a band of outlaws to fulfill his goal… and the second they do, Rainbow Rocket picks ‘em up and brings ‘em here. Isn’t that what happened with you?”

“What happened to me? I’m not like them—” But as soon as he says it, he has to reconsider. The description she’s given is so vague, it could very well apply to him. If wanting his sister to be champion counted as a vision, then he did, technically, have a vision. Team Yell was, technically, a band of outlaws.

He purses his lips, not liking the conclusion he’s drawn.

J says, hesitantly, “I don’t know what you did back home. Whatever it was, I won’t judge ya. After all, you gotta be here for a reason, right?”

*

Piers thinks about that as he steps into the kitchen at 11:30 that night. He can’t begin to guess why he would be in this world, but he at least knows what his goal is at the moment.

It’s stereotypically Galarian of him, he knows, crawling out of bed for a spot of tea. That’s fine; it’s not like there’s anyone around to see him.

Then the door opens.

“...Piers?”

Even with one word, there is no mistaking the voice.

Chairman Rose stands in the doorway, frozen as though in shock. He’s wearing one of those grey suits he likes so much, though the shirt is wrinkled and the tie missing. He’d probably fallen asleep at his desk.

He doesn’t look like he fits here, in a group of dangerous men. Piers has to admit that he himself matches the aesthetic of the place; Rose does not.

Rose says, “What did you do?”

Piers says, “Why don’t I make us tea an’ we can talk about it.”

The chairman seems to agree to that, even getting out the teacups while Piers boils the water. This never would have happened in his home world, and yet it’s the most familiar interaction he’s had since he arrived.

When they’re sitting at the kitchen table with their tea, Piers begins: “In my world, I’m the leader of a group called Team Yell. My sister Marnie is the champion.”

“Oh?”

“We didn’t cheat.” He’s defensive, he knows, but it’s not like he and Rose had a trusting relationship before all of this. “She won fair and square, on her own talents.”

“I wasn’t saying otherwise.”

“An’ what about you, then? What did you do that got you thrown here — besides being a billionaire, I mean.”

In Piers’ world, using that tone of voice on that word would make the chairman bristle. Here, Rose looks more mournful than offended.

“Who did your Marnie fight for the championship title?”

“Leon…? Why, is somebody else champion in your world?”

“His brother Hop is champion now, but he battled Leon for the title. Or... he would have. I was impatient. I moved too quickly.”

Rose shifts in his seat, pulling out a pokeball. No, not just any ball — a master ball. The Pokémon inside looks like none Piers has ever seen: almost wormlike, spiny, glowing with a dim red light.

“You asked what I did to deserve being here,” Rose murmurs. “I’ll tell you. I forced Leon to fight a Pokémon more powerful than anything Galar had ever seen. He died bringing it to me.”

...Arceus.

It takes Piers only a moment to process this information and then decide he doesn’t want to hear any more of it.

Rose looks like he’s about to start on one of his rambling speeches, so Piers quickly holds up a hand. “I don’t want to hear it. Let’s talk about somethin’ else.”

“Something else, as in…”

“Your first battle. Your latest charity project. Whatever.”

To his credit, Rose is skilled at conversation. He easily transitions to discussions of his university days, the music theory class he’d taken as an elective. It surprises Piers how much he knows… and yet he can’t say that the discussion isn’t interesting.

It’s the first time Piers has spoken to the league chairman without worrying about Spikemuth. It will not be the last.

*

Archie speaks just enough Galarian to make Piers feel like an idiot.

It’s not like he’s never thought about human influence on the environment — he lives in a smoke-filled city, after all — but to hear Archie talk of pollution and the Pokémon affected by it, Piers has to admit that awakening an ancient Pokémon isn’t the worst solution out there.

Archie doesn’t seem to know that Maxie is alive and well and in the castle. Piers doesn’t tell him.

*

One day J brings him a composition book and a small electric keyboard.

“Since you write music,” she says sheepishly. “Sorry I couldn’t get you a guitar or something. I went with the next best thing.”

She leaves him alone, and he writes down some lyrics for a new song.

It’s about a fictional lost romance, but the imagery is all about being trapped in paradise, about missing the gloom of his hometown.

Galar is going to love it. If he ever gets back, anyway.

He’d asked about his present universe counterpart once and received a tablet that was somehow connected to the internet. His other self is doing well, both as a gym leader and a musician. Piers thinks about reaching out, but in the end decides not to. He wouldn’t believe this story if someone tried telling it to him; his counterpart is likely no different.

Days pass.

*

Maxie speaks just enough Galarian to make Piers feel like an idiot.

It’s not like he’s never thought about land as a resource — Galar is technically an island, after all — but to hear Maxie speak of erosion and human life, Piers has to admit that the idea of awakening an ancient Pokémon could be reasonable.

Maxie doesn’t seem to know that Archie is here, too. Piers doesn’t tell him.

*

He runs into Cyrus one morning at breakfast.

Cyrus asks, “Are you the one I hear singing in Galarian?”

He looks dead inside as always, which, Piers thinks, is a mood.

“Tha’s me, yeah. M’ name’s Piers.”

“Your music is very… spirited,” Cyrus says.

“Thanks?”

“I would prefer not to hear it.”

“Ah.”

*

Piers spends a lot of time talking to Rose. It’s not what he would have expected or wanted, but Rose is the only other Galarian around.

Still, he’s isn’t bad company when the league isn’t involved. He’s fond of art and architecture and all those stereotypical rich people things, but he’s also well-versed in popular culture.

(“I didn’t take you for an Avengers fan.”

“Admittedly it was not something I sought out for myself. My son Bede—”

“Wait, you adopted Bede?”

“Of course. Didn’t my counterpart do the same?”)

That’s why, when his throat aches from practice and there’s nothing else to do, Piers goes looking for him.

Rose is in one of the conference rooms. He’s usually there; he’s said before that it’s comfortably familiar to him. It’s the man he’s talking to who grabs Piers’ attention, though.

Rose says, “Piers, allow me to introduce you to Lysandre. He is a friend in my world, and his counterpart is just as elegant and driven.”

Lysandre looks down at him, magnanimous and regal. It should make sense that he and Rose know each other. They’re rich philanthropists, captains of industry; even with their different regions, it makes sense they would know each other.

And yet.

Rose, for all his billionaire capitalist near-dystopian command of the region, did not come from money. At one point he was poor. At one point he worked in the mines, dirty work.

Lysandre is an aristocrat. Lysandre is one of those smarmy bastards who believes that a person’s value depends entirely on whether they’re productive. People like him say that Spikemuth is poor because they don’t try hard enough.

When Team Flare began their attempt at apocalypse, the power spots went wild. Piers spent the day helping in Hammerlocke and trying not to worry about little Marnie all alone in their flat.

It was only later that Piers learned something like the full story, from Galarian translations of Professor Sycamore’s explanations.

He didn’t like what he read.

“I’ve heard of you,” Piers says. “Yer the one who wanted to kill all the Pokemon, right?”

Rose frowns. “I assure you, no one loves Pokemon like Lysandre—”

“It had to be done,” Lysandre says.

His voice is deeper than Piers’ or Rose’s, and his words hang heavily in the air.

“Lysandre… what…”

“My apologies, Elijah. Where there is a scarce resource, there will be conflict. With conflict comes suffering. Pokemon are destined to be used by humans; the only way to prevent it was to remove them.” He sighs a world-weary sigh, then looks to Piers. “I cannot confirm if I was successful in my world, but that was my intention.”

Rose pales. “If you’ll excuse me, I have to — I must —”

He doesn’t finish the sentence. In a moment he’s rushing out the door, unsteady on his feet. Piers follows him. He finds him leaning against the wall, clutching his chest and sweating.

“Are you okay?” Shit, he’s not having a heart attack, is he?

“I'm fine. Physically,” Rose says. “It’s just — my Lysandre wouldn’t do that. He wouldn’t talk like that.”

“Mhm.”

“I hate this place,” Rose says. “I hate everyone in it — except you.”

“Mhm.”

*

Piers walks down the hall to find his path blocked by that man in the snuggie.

“Mr. Piers, was it?” Ghetsis asks. “A pleasure to meet you. My name is—”

“I know who you are. Not interested.”

“Come now, what harm could I possibly do to you here? You lose nothing by listening for a few minutes.”

“If you’re going to give me that ‘humans and Pokemon should be separated’ bull, save your breath. Galar watched your stunt at the league. We know you don’t even believe it yourself.”

He tries to force his way past, but Ghetsis remains firm. He’s like Lysandre, much taller than any normal person has any right to be. He stands unmoving, but the smile on his face grows bigger and more unnerving by the second.

(Piers misses Raihan.)

“Of course not,” Ghetsis says. “I wouldn’t insult your intelligence like that. After all, a dark-type specialist like yourself is no doubt familiar with strategy. Especially in your league.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Ghetsis chuckles. “You say you’ve seen my ‘stunt,’ as it were. I’ve seen yours, too. The league lets your town rot on purpose, and the only salvation they offer is for you to leave it? I know I would be angry, were I in your position.”

Deep breaths. He’s a manipulator; don’t let him get to you.

“And your champion — I’ve never seen someone so undeserving of what they were given—”

It’s only after Piers throws the punch that he realizes Ghetsis probably meant Leon and not Marnie.

Well, it’s no problem either way; Piers’ fist hits him square in the nose, making a satisfying sound as it connects. It seems Ghetsis is frailer than he looks. He stumbles back with a groan, giving Piers the chance to walk past him.

“Don’t talk to me again,” he calls over his shoulder.

Ghetsis only glares.

*

One day Piers opens a door to find a gigantic black Jellicent-woman hybrid on the other side.

“Ah,” J says when he stops screaming long enough to tell her what happened. “I see you’ve met the Motherbeast.”

He doesn’t dare ask what the story behind that is.

*

It says something that the emergency lights here are blue.

J rushes to him, grabbing him by the arm and pulling him down the hall.

“What’s happening?”

“We’re moving from our shielded position to a VLFS. The structure is currently occupied, so it’s not as smooth as we’d like. But don’t worry about it, Giovanni has a plan.”

A plan. Isn’t that reassuring.

There are grunts running everywhere. Piers catches glimpses of people in white and gold — the current occupants? They’re fighting against the Rockets.

Piers should help them. He’s a gym leader, and gym leaders are supposed to help people, right? Innocent bystanders vs invading criminals. It should be an easy choice. Piers should turn around — right — now — and…

...and he doesn’t.

He goes back to his room like a child, pretending he doesn’t see what’s going on around him. Let this region’s champion handle it, if there is one.

By the end of the hour, the lights are back to red.

*

Rainbow Rocket’s occupation of Aether Paradise lasts for an hour before someone comes tearing through the grunts.

Piers considers going out to meet them, but he holds back. He doesn’t feel like getting into a fight.

Still, his curiosity grows. A few minutes in and he’s walking out.

In the main room, a man holds two grunts at arms’ length. He’s tall, somewhere between Ghetsis and Lysandre in height. He’s wearing a baggy hoodie with a skull design on the back. He’s not a suited corporate type at all.

Piers decides he likes him.

“‘Ey, you two.” He pokes both of the grunts on their backs, nudging them away. “I’ll take care of this guy, a’right? Now scram.”

The grunts obey.

The man doesn’t seem grateful, but that’s reasonable: he didn’t look like he needed rescuing, really. He circles Piers, cracking his knuckles.

“So you’re with these guys, are you? Where’d ya put the prez?”

“I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about.” He holds up a hand, trying to ward off a potential fistfight. “‘M here ‘cause I train dark types an’ someone thought that makes a bad guy. M’ name’s Piers.”

The man puts his hands in his pockets, circling Piers. There’s something dark in his eyes; Piers sees it in the mirror every day.

At last the man says, “I’m Guzma, the boss of Team Skull. I like your shoes.”

His shoes, with the skulls on the heels. Punk recognizes punk.

Piers wonders if they’ve met before. He could have sworn, sometime during his stay here, that he’s heard the name.

Maybe Guzma’s counterpart is running around the castle somewhere.

“Who’s the prez you mentioned?”

“The prez. You know, the lady who owns this place? Lusamine. Tall white lady, hair like a cocoon down to her ankles?”

The Motherbeast. Or her counterpart, more likely.

“Haven’t seen her, sorry.”

“Hmph.” Guzma stomps to the wall and slumps against it. “Well, at least our champion’s here. She’ll beat you all down before long.”

Their champion. Piers pictures a muscular woman in her mid-twenties, a white cape flowing behind her.

“There she is! Hey, Moon! You find that Giovanni yet?”

In rushes a girl — no, two girls — both younger than Marnie. The dark-haired one looks up at Guzma and shakes her head.

“There’s one more room, Mr. Guzma,” her blonde partner says.

“Then go for it. Me an’ Piers here’ll make sure nobody goes after ya.”

The girls rush off. Guzma follows them with his eyes, and when they’re out of sight, he slumps back again.

“They’re good kids, Moon and Lillie. Didn’t have the best home lives, but they’re still holdin’ on… you gotta admire that, right?”

*

Giovanni calls the whole thing off. Apparently the others in this Rainbow Rocket gang got sent back to their universes by this scientist working for Aether. That simultaneously encourages Piers and pisses him off, because if this was possible all this time, someone should’ve offered him a ride home.

Better late than never, he supposes.

Colress has him and Rose in the same room, “because your universes have a similar frequency, so I can send you both home at once.”

Rose nods. “So, Piers, it seems this is where we say goodbye.”

“Yeah.” A chuckle. “Can’t say I’m looking forward to fighting with you about power spots and stadiums again.”

A wry smile. “Well… I’d give a farewell speech, but I believe you wouldn’t care for it. So let me say this instead: I am thankful to have had you here.”

“You, too.”

“And if I may ask you a favor…” Rose takes Piers by the shoulder, pulling him close. He whispers in his ear: “If your Rose is anything like me, he does genuinely care for Leon. Tell him to act like it, while he has the chance.”

Piers’ face feels warm. His chest tightens, and he feels dizzy… and then he falls.

He falls, and he lands on his face, and Arceus is that Marnie’s voice.

“Where were you?” Her voice has that pitch she gets when she’s about to cry, and Piers hurries to hug her. They’re sitting in… Wyndon Stadium? There’s Marnie’s Liepard, and on the other side of the pitch, a kid in a challenger uniform and their Kommo-o.

“How long was I gone?”

“Six. Freaking. Months. I went looking for you! But nobody had any idea where you could’ve gone… Where were you?”

He pats her back. “I… got lost. It’s a long story. ‘M sorry for leaving you, Mar. I promise I’ll never do that to ya again.”

*

*

*

When Champion Moon visits Galar for the World Tournament, she is introduced to their gym leaders.

She gives Piers a thoughtful look, but never says why.

#piers pokemon #rainbow rocket #DNARHMWIBAW

[samsonet]

Just dropping by to let you know you're like... my favorite SwSh writer currently - I discovered your work with Camera Shy (the ending killed meeee) and just read Don't need a rainbow here which was !! so gooood. Keep it up o3o

Thank you so much, anon! I’m sorry I didn’t respond sooner. This ask made me very happy;;

#save tag;; #author.notes

[samsonet]

There daily I wander as noon rises high,

This is how Raihan becomes Bede’s brother.

Title from Robert Burns’ “Afton Water”

*

Raihan isn’t used to watching the finals from the sidelines.

He tries to relax in his league-assigned seat, still feeling like any moment now someone will come to ask why he’s not on the pitch.

With every word the commentator says, the sense of wrongness only grows stronger. It should be him out there. It should be him planting his feet into the grass, summoning sandstorms and roaring at his opponent. For the past eight seasons, it has been him in that position, him on the pitch, him and Leon —

“Let's give a round of applause for Galar’s beloved champion, Gloria!”

The earth orbits around a new sun now.

“And on the other side of the pitch, the elite gym leader, the champion’s rival himself—”

Raihan—

“— Bede!”

Raihan sighs, not entirely sure what he’s feeling.

“A bit of sadness,” a voice says, “mixed with some excitement at seeing what these young ones can do. And some pride, too, perhaps.”

Raihan blinks, but he’s had enough experience with Opal to not jump at her sudden appearances.

“Why are you here? I thought you retired.”

“I did!” Opal hums happily. “Now I’m getting to enjoy my retirement — and what grandparent wouldn’t want the chance to see their grandchild battling the champion?”

Bede’s been training under her for what, three months? She jumped into the fairy godmother role pretty quick, didn’t she.

Opal says, “Perhaps it was a bit reckless of me to declare him my successor so quickly… But sometimes you can look at a person and know that you were meant to help them.”

On the pitch, Bede’s Rapidash lands a critical hit. Bede grins. Gloria grins. Raihan is abruptly reminded of his sixth battle against Leon, the first time he’d tried using a weather team. Leon won, of course, but instead of the usual sportsmanlike handshake, he’d given Raihan a full-bodied hug. After all, being the champion’s rival meant he was the champion’s friend, too.

Opal says, “Still, I do worry about whether I can properly care for him. I’m willing to listen to any troubles he has, of course, but he is a young boy, after all. He may not feel comfortable sharing everything with an old woman like me. If he had an older brother, perhaps...”

She looks at him meaningfully.

Raihan knows better than to offer his help; if the fairy queen wants a favor from him, she has to be direct about it.

But Opal doesn’t ask. She seems to feel like she’s said everything that needs to be said, and she merely sits back and watches the match.

The battle ends.

Gloria does not hug Bede.

*

Raihan pays more attention to Bede after that.

He would watch Bede’s matches anyway, because it’s only a matter of time before they’d have to face each other in a ranking tournament, but now Raihan’s observing the kid himself instead of just his battle style.

Bede’s history is no secret. During his challenge, the league milked the scrappy-orphan angle for all it was worth. A kid who came from nothing, fighting to earn a place in the world… It tugs at the heartstrings. Theoretically, anyway. While the PR people tried to spin Bede’s proud demeanor as a defense mechanism, a lot of the fans found challenger Bede unbearably smug.

Raihan grew up in a loving upper-class family with both parents and two sisters, so he doesn’t have family issues as an excuse. As a challenger, he’d been smug because he really thought he was all that. Well. He still is kinda cocky, and he still sorta is all that. Because the fans like it, because there’s nothing quite so satisfying as seeing a cocky bastard get taken down a peg or two.

The fans won’t get to see Raihan taken down a peg anymore. Sure, he’ll still be losing, to Gloria and Melony and who knows, maybe Bede too -- but that mixture of pride and humiliation is reserved for Leon and Leon only.

But Leon isn't the champion anymore.

Gloria seems to like battling Bede. Bede seems to like battling her. Their inexperience is obvious, though. Their battles seem to be fun and challenging for both of them, which is the important thing, but they haven’t quite gotten the hang of the performance part yet.

If he had an older brother, perhaps…

Is it an insult, that Opal would be so transparent in what she wants from Raihan? Or is it a show of respect, a way of saying that she’s not going to try to manipulate him? But even transparent manipulation is manipulation all the same…

Raihan leans back, putting a hand over his mouth in thought. He’s not the champion’s rival anymore. That was his place in Galar, his place in the league. He may still be the strongest gym leader, but the role feels empty now that Leon and Piers are gone.

Would the role be just as fulfilling if he became the big brother to the younger gym leaders?

He can try.

*

The next time Raihan sees Bede, it’s at one of the champion’s invite-only tournaments.

The champion has invited all her rivals, and between the battles the four of them stick together in the same corner. Raihan’s curious what they’re talking about, of course, but he gives them space. None of them are his little siblings, after all.

When the tournament finishes (with the champion victorious, naturally), Raihan walks out with the other participants.

Leon and Piers are waiting in the lobby. Raihan gives them a wave and they wave back, but it’s obvious they’re not there for him.

“Lee!”

Hop gives a running jump into his brother’s arms. Marnie has a more dignified motion as she walks toward Piers, but Raihan sees the way her mouth curls up at the corners. The little champion gives a wave goodbye to her rivals; she probably has some business to attend to in another city.

That leaves Bede as the list of the four, looking vaguely upset but not saying anything about it.

So Raihan does. “Hey, Leon, Piers. Whaddya say we take our little sibs to get something to eat? They fought hard, they deserve it. My treat.”

Piers raised his visible eyebrow, but he nods.

It’s Leon, always perceptive, that asks: “Our siblings?”

“Yep!” Raihan looks to Bede, reaching out a hand in invitation. “Bede, can you do me a favor and be my little bro for the afternoon? Leon’s not in the league anymore, but I still have to beat him in something.”

Bede gives him a look of offended confusion. Then he looks toward Leon and Hop.

Raihan sees Hop’s face, how he wears the same expression Leon does when the sponsors force him to drink chia juice.

Raihan sees Bede’s expression change, how his frown slowly turns into a knife cat smile.

Bede nods, reaching out and holding Raihan by the wrist. “I would love to.”

*

They go to McDucklett’s, one of the few places where people don’t look twice at a bunch of regional celebrities sitting down to eat.

Raihan’s the only one who orders a full meal. Leon and Piers get salads, the tossers. Hop and Marnie both want kids meals, with the potential tiny plush toy of a gym leader’s signature Pokémon. And Bede…

Bede’s staring at the menu, seemingly overwhelmed by all the choices. Has he really never been in a McDucklett’s before?

Oh. No, he probably hasn’t. Between the orphanage and Rose, fast food is probably the last kind of food he’s ever had the chance to try.

“Why don’t I get you some nuggets?” Raihan suggests.

Bede nods vigorously.

Raihan orders him a kids meal as well, and quietly asks the employee for a set of utensils to go with it.

While the grownups are eating their meals, the kids start by opening their toys. Hop has a tiny version of Milo’s Appletun, while Marnie gets Melony’s Lapras. By some coincidence or luck or fairy magic, Bede’s toy is an Alcremie.

He picks it up with something like reverence, lightly tracing its frosting swirls with one finger. He looks around the table, probably trying to find someplace to set it down, then puts it in his lap.

With the toys out of the way, Bede pulls out his box of nuggets. He stares at them as though unsure how they’re supposed to be eaten.

Raihan is torn between laughing at the kid’s hesitation and feeling sorry for him. Eventually, the latter wins out.

He swallows the bite of his burger and says, “There should be a knife and fork in there if you need ‘em. I know they’ve got a weird texture, but they’re pretty good.”

Bede follows his directions, spearing a nugget and taking a delicate bite.

Hop snorts. Raihan glares at him and is gratified to see Leon is giving an identical look. Big brother instincts.

The rest of the meal passes with minimal drama. Bede seems satisfied with nuggets and apple slices. That’s good. Raihan doesn’t want to imagine what would happen if Opal found out he’d sent Bede home hungry.

After the other pairs say their goodbyes and head out, Bede turns to Raihan and asks, “Can you watch Alcremie while I wash my hands?”

“Sure.”

Bede sets the doll on a dry spot on the table. “I know your hands are greasy, so don’t touch her. Just make sure nobody else takes her.”

“I got it, don’t worry.”

Bede heads to the restroom. Raihan examines the toy Alcremie, leaning in close to look in its sewn-on eyes.

“Is this what you wanted, Opal?” he asks. “Am I doing well?”

The Alcremie only stares back. It has a knowing smile on its face.

*

When Bede comes back, he insists that Raihan wash his hands, too. Raihan thought it was a euphemism, but no, apparently the kid really doesn’t like the idea of greasy fingers.

After that, he’s ready to go home. Raihan offers to at least walk him back to the station. Bede accepts without protest.

It’s when they’re halfway there that he says, with forced aloofness, “I know you’re only doing all of this because Opal told you to.”

“What?”

“Don’t lie to me. She told you I needed a big brother, right? She told me the same thing. Well, I don’t need anybody. I’m a gym leader now. I’ll be fine even when Opal… even when she d…”

And, oh shit, that is not something Raihan even thought of when wondering why Opal would ask him for this. He’s stunned speechless for a moment, mouth opening and closing as he tries to say something reassuring but not patronizing.

At last he says, “I mean… even if she did ask me, I asked you along ‘cause I wanted to. You’re going to be around for a while, right? It’s just smart to try to get on your good side.”

Bede doesn’t say anything to that.

Raihan continues: “And if I may — I gotta say, I see a lot of myself in you. The elite gym leader who rivals the champion? That’s been my life since I was sixteen. If there’s anyone who’ll beat Gloria, it’ll be you.”

He knows the counter the moment he says it, already imagining Bede saying the way you beat Leon? with a sneer on his face.

But to his surprise, Bede does not say that. He only tilts his head, his expression somewhere between flattered and confused.

Then he says, “If you want to stay on my ‘good side,’ you should take me to McDucklett’s again sometime.”

*

When they reach Ballonlea, Opal is waiting. She greets them with a smile, one long-nailed finger beckoning them in.

#ICYDNMSF #raihan pokemon #bede pokemon #opal pokemon

[samsonet]

Opal walks by his side. She wears a purple dress and a sea-green coat. She seems cool, collected.

She places a hand on his shoulder. To the paparazzi, it probably looks like he’s helping her walk. Bede knows the truth: she is the one calming him.

“Deep breaths, child,” she murmurs.

They stop near the door, posing for the cameras. It’s all part of being a gym leader, of being a celebrity: when there are events, the stars have to make themselves available. Their outfits. Their voices. Their relationships, their breakups, their drama, their <i>entire lives</i> are fair game.

Bede isn’t fond of it.

Tonight, though, he poses for the cameras without a word. He’s tempted to answer some questions, give them a few different poses, and try to delay the inevitable.

But Opal shakes her head. She leads him inside.

Preview of chapter 8 of Camera Shy!

#author.notes

[samsonet]

Leap Day

Leap Day is Hop Day.

~

It’s on the first day of February that Leon notices it.

Oleana hands him a paper with the next three months’ schedules on it. Everything’s full, as usual, written in tiny fonts to fit the calendar squares. Leon gets one of these every month, but he knows he’ll be guided to every appointment whether he bothers to remember it all or not.

But this month is February. February usually has twenty-eight days. This year, though -- it’s a leap year. Which should mean there are twenty-nine.

Yet the last Monday of the February calendar is blank. Leon glances at March, wondering if Oleana had merely labeled that Monday March first -- but his schedule for that month starts on a Tuesday. Meaning…

There’s a full day that he has absolutely nothing scheduled. A day where he’s free.

“Champion Leon, is something wrong?”

Oleana is watching him with that carefully-aloof expression. Leon gives her a grin and waves it off.

“Nothing’s wrong! Everything’s great, don’t worry!”

*

He doesn’t let himself get his hopes up. There are still twenty-seven days for Oleana to notice her mistake, to find something to fill up the extra day. Every time he answers her calls, Leon holds his breath.

But on the twenty-eighth, there’s still nothing.

His last appointment ends at seven. At seven-fifteen, he makes his escape. He makes a quick stop at a convenience store and buys a box of the chocolate Hop likes -- whether he’s on an impulsive visit or not, Leon makes it a point to always bring a gift -- and by eight he’s on the train to Wedgehurst.

*

By the time he gets to Postwick, it’s one in the morning. Mum is awake, watching the telly. It seems her insomnia is acting up again. It’s okay; she’s happy to see him. They talk for a while. Not long, though.

Leon heads upstairs, peeks into Hop’s room. Hop is sound asleep. That’s alright, too. They have all day tomorrow.

Leon goes to his own room and sleeps for a few hours.

*

He’s woken at six-thirty am by a loud “Lee!”

Hop leaps into his bed, hugging him. Leon hugs back, but the position is more than a little awkward.

“Good morning, Hopscotch.”

“I wasn’t expecting you today! Why didn’t you call?”

“It was a spur-of-the-moment thing. I just missed you so much, I had to see you.”

He sits up and pulls Hop in, nuzzling his hair. Hop has grown a couple centimeters since the last time they were together. He feels a little heavier, too. That’s good. It means he’s growing well.

Too soon, Hop pulls away.

“When do you gotta go back?” he asks, because Leon never comes home to stay.

“Don’t worry about it,” Leon says. “Lemme brush my teeth first, and then you’ll have me for the rest of the day.”

*

The rest of the day goes like this:

Hop shows him Wooloo’s new moves. Charizard stands in as a sparring partner, dramatically falling at the first Tackle.

“Aw, Lee! Don’t go easy on me!”

“Hey, your Wooloo is the strongest I’ve ever seen! It might even be the strongest in all of Galar!”

And Hop laughs.

Later, Leon quizzes him on type advantages, praising him at every right answer. Hop’s bright, always has been; it’s good for him to be recognized for it.

They talk about Gloria. Leon wants to meet her, but she’s out of town for the week. Hop promises to introduce her at some point.

“Lee. Let’s watch some battles! Come on, I have your last match with Raihan recorded!”

Leon doesn’t need to re-watch the battle. He remembers it clear as day. But Hop loves hearing his commentary, so Leon decides to indulge him.

And if Hop wants to watch the same battle, over and over… well, he’s eleven, eleven-year-olds do that.

Hop snuggles against him. They eat the chocolates. Leon tells him every embarrassing story he knows about Raihan.

Before long, it gets dark. Leon can’t stay the night; he has appointments tomorrow. He doesn’t tell Hop that, though. Instead, he lets his brother lean against him, playing the same three battles in turn and talking about strategies.

When Hop finally falls asleep, Leon gently removes himself. He makes sure there’s a pillow under Hop’s head and a blanket to keep him warm.

Then he kisses his brother’s forehead and slips away.

*

On March first, Leon is back in Wyndon. He has a busy day today.

#pokemon swsh fanfic #leon pokemon #hop pokemon

[samsonet]

#silver dreaming #alola champion raihan

[samsonet]

Silver Dreaming (3/6)

Do Not Disturb shuts off automatically at six in the morning. Raihan regrets this when he’s woken by the sound of a million text messages.

There are rules when it comes to messaging. One of those rules is that you don’t text people before nine a.m. unless it’s an emergency. Raihan glances at the notifications and finds nothing urgent about them. He’s not in the mood for this right now.

He leaves his phone on the bed and heads into the hallway. There’s a pot of coffee ready, and the scent fills the air like petrichor.

Nessa probably made it, like usual. She’s the best.

When Raihan arrives in the living room, coffee in hand, he finds Nessa doing her morning stretches as she usually does. Her hair is tied in a loose bun. She’s wearing the t-shirt and sweatpants she’d brought over last night to sleep in. She looks normal, like she’s not a supermodel and gym leader in her day jobs.

(Sonia is nowhere to be seen. She’s probably still asleep. No need to wake her; university doesn’t start again for another two weeks.)

“Wanna join me?” Nessa asks, pushing her legs into a perfect split.

Show off.

“You know I can’t do what you do.”

“You can do something basic. Don’t you stretch before you train?” She looks up at him, her eyes calm and deep. “It might be the last time we get the chance, Rai. Please?”

With a sigh, he gulps the rest of his coffee and sets the mug out of the way. Then he sits across from her and pulls one arm in front of his chest.

One, two, three…

Nessa says, offhandedly, “Milo taught me about thinning the other day.”

“Milo… taught you… about thinning?”

She rolls her eyes. “It’s a gardening thing. When you’ve got a bunch of seedlings together, sometimes you have to uproot some so the others have more space to grow.”

“Ah. So you’re saying that it might be time for a certain golden flower to get uprooted so a certain water lily has space, right?”

“It’s not like that, it’s — I mean…” Sighing, she pulls up one knee and pushes against her leg. “You leaving would really shake up the league. I stayed up last night thinking about it. I’ll be fine, I think. I’m flexible.”

You’ll be more than fine, Raihan thinks. You’ll thrive.

Being flexible her thing, the way weather is his. It’s how she wins battles and how she wins at life. She moves through any situation like water, and his absence won’t make that any different.

He pulls up his leg, copying her pose. One, two, three...

She continues. “I wanted to be Hulbury’s gym leader since I was six years old. I wanted to be a model from the time I was fifteen. I wanted to be close to Sonia and Milo and you since the day I met you all. And I get to have all of that, because I’m flexible.”

“And now you’ll get even more. Congrats, Ness. You’ve earned it.”

She leans forward, stretching her back. “Did I, though?”

Come on, Ness, don’t say it like that.

“Aw, are you having doubts? Come on, it’s supposed to be my identity crisis here.” He says it with a grin, like it’s all a joke. But Nessa isn’t laughing.

“You wanted to be champion when you were a kid, didn’t you? Instead, you ended up a gym leader. You’ve just been treading water for the last ten years. I always knew you’d be heading to a bigger pond someday — to a place where you could really stretch your legs. I would just be taking advantage of that.”

Treading water. A bigger pond.

The league is supposed to be a place where dreams come true, if you’re strong enough, if you’re good enough. Everyone’s dreaming of something as they step in the stadiums.

It’s been a long time since Raihan has really thought about his own dreams.

What does he want? Not as the gym leader of Hammerlocke, not as the potential champion of Alola. Not as Leon’s rival or as Nessa’s friend.

What does he want?

To beat Leon?

To have battles where he can fully show off what his Pokémon can do?

He’d wanted to be Galar’s champion at one point, sure, but his goals aren’t as concrete anymore.

He wants validation. Adoration. Respect.

Will he get that in Alola? Does he honestly get that here?

Nessa leans to the side, almost bent over double. Raihan tries the same. He’s pretty sure he heard his back pop.

One, two, three...

“I think you should go,” she tells him. “Thin out the dandelions. Make some space for the golden flowers to grow like they’re supposed to.”

*

At seven-thirty he can’t pretend to be asleep anymore, so he checks his phone and gets ready for the day.

Piers was right about how quickly the news would spread. On Chattr, the words Hammerlocke and Alola Champion are trending. All his accounts are getting pinged.

It feels like everyone who’s ever had his number has sent something. His mum is mad that she had to find out about this from social media. Gordie and Milo give congratulations. Kabu and Melony ask if he’s really going. The reporters he’s given his number to — the ones he usually depends on to set the narrative he wants — are asking for a comment.

He apologizes to his mum and copy/pastes a “No comment as of now” to the reporters. He’ll reply to everyone else at lunchtime.

A new message pops up. It’s from Camilla.

Angry fans outside the stadium. Disguise?

He’ll take her word for it.

Raihan digs through his closet and brings out The Outfit.

It’s a league staff uniform, complete with a hat and sunglasses. Every gym leader has a couple of these uniforms, specifically tailored for them. Nobody looks twice at a lowly staff member, after all.

Raihan puts it on, tucks his hair under the cap, and slouches a little to hide his height. He puts his usual clothes in a duffel bag.

Passing by Nessa in the living room, he waves goodbye.

*

True to Camilla’s text, there is a crowd outside the gym. They’re chanting something, but he can’t quite make out what it’s supposed to be. He spots a sign reading OUR DRAGON TAMER and another that reads YOU BELONG TO HAMMERLOCKE.

Nobody seems to notice that their dragon master is standing there among them.

Raihan catches the attention of one of the fans, a young teen with an orange bow in her hair.

Making sure his sharp tooth doesn’t show, he asks: “What’s goin’ on?”

“You haven’t heard?” She stares at him with wide eyes. “Raihan got scouted by the Alola league! He’s leaving by the end of the year!”

“Really? That’s news to me. Has he confirmed it himself?”

“Well, no, but it only got leaked last night. Still! He’s leaving! Can you believe it? Like, I don’t have any problems with Alola — I’m half-Alolan, myself, actually — but it’s like, don’t they have any strong trainers there? Why do they have to take our gym leader?”

As much emotional distance Raihan tries to keep between himself and his fandom, there’s something about the sincerity in the girl’s words that makes him pause. He was born and raised in Hammerlocke, after all. He’s its representative, its guardian. The people here have watched him grow; some have even grown beside him. One could say he’s like a brother, almost—

A blond woman gestures passionately in his face.

“Right?” She doesn’t seem to realize (or care?) that she’s interrupting a conversation. “They’ve got to have a hundred good trainers over there, but Leon only has one rival! What are we supposed to do without him?”

He sucks in air through his teeth.

He may be Hammerlocke’s older brother, but his family will always be more enamored with the cool kid from down the street.

“I’m sure you’ll be fine,” he says, and pushes through the crowd toward the gym.

*

He takes his time changing in the locker room.

It would be a lie to say that the fans’ words didn’t bother him. Leon has been part of his life ever since he was a kid; when Raihan does interviews, it’s only a matter of time before he gets a question about him. Their rivalry is a big part of Raihan’s public image, maybe even the biggest part. The weather manipulator, the fashion icon, the selfie-obsessed influencer, the history geek — all are forgotten in favor of the label Leon’s rival.

He loves Leon, but there’s resentment there, too. That resentment came years ago, when Raihan realized that there was nowhere in Galar he could go to get away from Leon’s face.

Alola, on the other hand...

Alola is a warm region. There, they have an endless summer. Even when it rains, the sun is still shining. He’ll be happy there. He will.

Even if he has to leave two of his most trusted partners behind, it would be worth it, right?

It had to be.

Finally, Hammerlocke Gym Leader Raihan emerges in full uniform.

That’s the signal for his gym trainers to acknowledge him, so they do. Sebastian gives him the day’s weather forecast for the Wild Area. Camilla passes along a message from the gym’s sponsor. It’s all normal, routine things.

They’re in one of the training rooms when he decides to tell them.

“Aria?”

“Yes, Leader Raihan?”

“Can you do me a favor?”

And good old Aria, cautious as ever, says, “That would depend on the favor.”

She’s always been the sensible type, even from her earliest days at the gym. Out of the three, she’s the most skilled and the most dedicated. Raihan doesn’t play favorites, so he can admit that.

“I would like to ask you to care for Sandaconda and Duraludon for a while,” he says. “I can’t bring them to Alola.”

His trainers look at him with near-identical expressions of anxiety.

“I… Of course I will care for them,” Aria says. “I presume you are… truly leaving, then?”

He puts his hands in his pockets. There’s a weight on his chest, but even with deep breaths, he can’t dislodge it.

“Yeah. Yeah, I think I am.”

Sebastian rushes forward and hugs him. He’s got tears in his eyes. Seb’s always been sentimental like that.

Raihan allows the hug, gently patting his back.

Then, cautiously, Camilla and Aria join in the hug, too. It’s unprofessional of them, Raihan thinks, but in this case, it’s forgivable. They’ve been a part of his life for years. It’s natural that he’s going to miss them.

He doesn’t try to comfort them. He’s not sure he can, honestly.

What he finally says is, “I’ll have to tell Alola’s chairman by tomorrow. Keep it quiet for now, okay?”

*

The rest of the day passes quietly. Solemn, almost. Everyone’s acting like he’s going to die. Even his phone doesn’t provide a distraction: his notes are full of people tagging his accounts in the hope that he’ll give them the smallest hint of what he’s doing.

On the way home, he stops by the grocery store and buys a Pinap berry. He poses with it in front of the gym and takes a selfie, posting it with the caption Tropical.

Then he sets his phone to Do Not Disturb and lets the internet do its thing.

*

Hours later, Raihan is woken by the sound of someone pounding on his door.

He blinks, rubbing the sleep from his eyes, and reaches for his phone to check the time. It’s one in the morning. Whoever’s knocking, they had better have a good reason for waking him up.

Raihan pulls on some trousers and shambles to the door, opening it up to find —

“Leon?”

Huh.

The champion of Galar looks like a mess. He’s wearing his usual uniform but without the cape. His hair looks ruffled, but less in the sexy windswept way and more like he’d just been thrown out of a hurricane. He looks tired.

Leon pushes inside the flat, because Raihan has never been able to stop him, and asks “Is it true?”

“What are you doing here so damn early?”

“It’s the only time I’ve got in the next three days. Is it true?”

“Is what true?”

“That you’re leaving. To be the Alolan Champion.”

Raihan locks the door and leans against it, holding his arms loose at his sides. “I haven’t officially decided. But it looks like it, yeah.”

“Why didn’t you ask me first?”

“Wasn’t aware I needed your permission, mate.” He laughs, casually, like it’s more of their mid-battle teasing.

But Leon seems to think differently.

“Well, then,” he says, gritting his teeth, “if you believe you’re champion material, then why don’t you prove it right now and battle me?”

And Raihan says —

Well —

“No.”

This seems to leave Leon speechless. He draws back, golden eyes darting toward Raihan’s face and then just as quickly looking away.

“Why not?”

“Mate, it’s one in the bloody morning. My partners are tired. I’m tired. And what are you thinking of getting from this, anyway? Do you think that if you beat me, I’ll change my mind? Because we both know I’m going to lose.”

“You might win this time,” Leon mumbles, but it’s half-hearted and they both know it.

Raihan sighs. “How about this, mate. Why don’t I get us both some water and we can sit down and talk about things, like adults?”

He steps forward, toward the kitchen. Leon follows like a lost Yamper.

They’d left the Leon Jar out earlier. Raihan quickly palms it, sparing a glance to make sure the man himself didn’t notice it. When he gets to the kitchen, he shoves it on top of the fridge.

At last, he sits them down in the living room. They’re on opposite sides of the same couch. “So. You have a problem with me leaving?”

Leon wrings his hands. He doesn’t show that kind of nervousness in public, Raihan notes absently. He can’t. A champion has to be confident and alert at all times. But he wrings his hands, now, when they’re alone, when Raihan is the only person who can see it.

“I don’t… Rai, be honest with me. Am I boring you?”

“What?”

“When we’re battling. Am I boring you? I-I try to come up with something new every time, to challenge you, but if it’s not enough we could — we could do something else. I could talk to Rose, ask him if we could try doubles for our next match—”

“Leon.”

This makes him stop. He looks up, and his golden eyes look very lost.

Raihan sighs. “Leon, it’s not about you. This was entirely my decision, alright? I’m not dissatisfied here, I just — I want...”

He wants his own kingdom. He wants to use Z-Moves again. He wants Leon to be happy for him, to stop staring at him with that expression.

Curse his beautiful eyes.

“I wanna spread my wings a bit. Try something new. It’d be nice to live in a more relaxed region, you know? Maybe I’d get to battle without having being treated like a feral Obstagoon.”

“You don’t have to battle like that now. We could come up with something—”

“And maybe I’m tired of being second place. You ever think about that?”

Leon grimaces. He hangs his head, and the brim of his hat covers his eyes.

Raihan really doesn’t know why he’s upset. Leon is the one who wins, after all. He won Chairman Rose’s approval. He won the champion title. He’s won every battle he and Raihan have ever had since they were teens. He’ll be fine.

So why isn’t he acting like it?

“You are leaving because of me.” Leon holds up a hand to cut off any interruption. “I mean, I hear what you’re saying about wanting to get stronger. I want you to get stronger too! But it’s just — I’m the reason you feel so restless here, right? Because I’m the champion, and you have to always hold back to make me look good. I couldn’t figure out a way to fix that, a-and now you’re leaving. Just like Sonia did.”

Arceus.

It takes a special kind of conceit to expect a rival to stay close forever, even if they never win. It takes a special kind of conceit to blame oneself for their leaving.

But maybe part of it is Raihan’s fault, for letting things get this far. For diving headfirst into their rivalry, for acting as King Leon’s greatest knight. Being champion means you’re limited in who you can spend time with. It’s not like Leon has any other close friends.

Raihan moves forward, pulling Leon into a hug. His rival hugs back, tightly, like he’s afraid Raihan will leave right this minute if he lets go.

In a year, maybe, they’ll meet again, champion to champion. Maybe they’ll have an exhibition match. Maybe Raihan will even win. Either way, if he leaves, their relationship will never be the same.

He pats Leon’s back, rubbing small circles like he’s comforting a kid brother. “Listen. It’s not like you’ll be all alone. Oleana’s planning for Nessa to be your new rival. You like Nessa, right?”

“She’s okay.” There’s a pout in his voice. “She’s not you, though.”

“Give her a chance, yeah? And, you know, it’s not like Sonia left you, either. I literally saw her yesterday.” Two days ago? Another reason not to have conversations at one in the morning. “She’s following her gran’s footsteps. If you told Rose you were studying Dynamaxing, you could probably see her whenever you wanted.”

“I’ve tried that. She won’t battle me.”

“She’s a grad student, she doesn’t have time for that. There’s more to friendship than battles, anyway. Why don’t you ask what she’s studying? Maybe she’s got info about some Pokémon you’ve never seen before.”

Leon hums an acknowledgement, but doesn’t say anything. Raihan lets the conversation lapse.

They hold each other, quietly, sharing their warmth.

In the silence, Raihan’s thoughts turn to Professor Kukui. A guy that obsessed with moves and leagues has to be a strong trainer, right? He fought Lance, after all. He must be tough.

Is he as tough as Leon?

He thinks about asking for a battle. Just a practice match, just a way to test the waters. Testing himself, to see if he really is champion material. See if he can put up a good enough fight.

“Rai?”

“Huh? Uh, yeah?”

“I think I’m done. Thank you.”

Leon lets go. Raihan lets him go, lets him pull away, lets the sun slip out of his hands.

His (soon-to-be-former?) rival stands, one hand smoothing over his hair.

“I know you said you don’t want to battle, but can we go to your stadium anyway? Charizard is going to miss Duraludon. I want them to have a chance to hang out before you guys go.”

Leon doesn’t know, does he.

Raihan makes a mental note for Aria to let Duraludon train with Leon.

He says, “Let me get my things ready. Then we can go.”

#silver dreaming #pokemon swsh fanfic #raihan pokemon

[samsonet]

ur fics are emotionally devastating, and i am hooked on ur raihan fic rn. is he really gonna leave his sandaconda and duraludon?? is he really leaving??

:)

#silver dreaming #anonymous.comments #save tag;;

[samsonet]

count the minutes

Hop is going to Unova for a conference. Leon helps him pack.

~

The day Hop is going to leave, Leon makes sure to be home.

“Do you have your passport?” he asks.

“Check!”

“What about the paperwork for all your Pokemon?”

“Check!”

“Did you pack warm clothes? Unova can get pretty cold this time of year.”

“Lee, I promise I got everything!”

Hop is sounding frustrated, but Leon can’t help it. His little brother is leaving the region for four whole days, with Sonia as his only companion. Leon’s worried. Sure, Hop had been alone for most of the gym challenge, but that was still Galar. Who would dare attack the champion’s little brother, after all?

But Unova…

Unova was a lawless place. Their twin heroes aren’t protectors. Every time their legends appear, they are the ones causing death and destruction. Strong trainer or not, it wasn’t a good place for someone of Hop’s empathy and kindness.

He wishes he could go with them. He wishes Gloria could go with them. But no, it’s an academic conference, and neither Leon nor Gloria has a place there.

Leon unzips Hop’s suitcase and double-checks to make sure everything is where it’s supposed to be.

For his part, Hop doesn’t seem too worried. He’s sitting on the edge of his bed, a notebook in his lap and the conference flyer in his hand. He’s taking notes. He looks so different than the excitable kid Leon used to visit, or even the solemn challenger who made it all the way to Wyndon. Hop is growing up — has grown up — right before Leon’s eyes.

“I’m going to miss you, Hopscotch.”

That makes him look up, curiously. “Why? It’s only four days. You’ve been gone for longer than that.”

Leon doesn’t know what his face looks like, but it must be horrible, because Hop immediately tries to backtrack: “I-I mean, I’m going to miss you, too, Lee. I’ll call you every day and—”

“No,” he says with a sigh. “You’re right. It’s only four days. You don’t have to call.”

Because it is selfish of him, he knows, to keep Hop at a distance for all those champion years and only get clingy when Hop finds his own dream to pursue. Regardless of how natural it is for a big brother to miss a little brother, Leon should be putting on a smile and making Hop’s last few hours here as stress-free as possible.

He sets to work re-packing the bag.

Hop watches him for a while. Then he says, “This conference is gonna be the farthest I’ve ever been away from you.”

“Please don’t say it like that.”

“I-I mean! Is that really a bad thing? These are professors a-and researchers! Most of them are from regions all the way across the world! They don’t know about leagues, so it’s okay if I’m stupid or weak, because they won’t connect me to you.”

“You’re not stupid or weak, Hop.”

“Well…”

“Hop.” Leon puts his hands on his brother’s shoulders and looks him in the eyes. “Who was one of the last four challengers in the season, after sixteen others failed or gave up? You. Who was the one who figured out how to summon the legendary Pokemon and saved the region? You. Who was the one who befriended Zamazenta without battling it — something even I wouldn’t be able to do? You again, Hop. You’re amazing and I love you. So.”

Hop is staring. He might be holding his breath.

Leon continues: “Don’t worry about what people think of me. That’s my job. I want you to go to this conference and have a-a legendary time there. Learn! Grow! Become the best version of Hop you can be!”

He presses his forehead against Hop’s. “And in four days, I’ll be at the airport, waiting to hear all about it.”

Hop takes a breath. He smiles, a small smile. He nods.

“You are going to come back, right?” Leon asks, pulling away. “Not going to get so caught up in researching the cool Unovan Pokemon that you forget me?”

Hop laughs. “Of course not, Lee.”

He looks down, still smiling, and scribbles something on the margins of his notes.

#champion leon #hop pokemon #pokemon swsh fanfic