Tumgik
#Again sorry it won't be anything particularly fancy this first go-around!!
aminojackal · 9 months
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'Sup!!
Today starting at 6:30 p.m. CST, I will be streaming art stuffs! (Spoiler alert: it will mostly be catching up on ArtFight stuff-)
This is going to be my first ever stream/test stream to see how it goes, so I'm very sorry that I don't really have any fun bells and whistles just yet! Been unsure of actually streaming until now because my real-life schedule's been incredibly turbulent for years until this point (and tbh it still is rn) Feedback is always welcome though!! Hope to see you there tonight! : - D
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unruly-sun · 2 years
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9: explain why your favorite song is your favorite song 16: favorite album artwork?
hey!! sorry 4 putting this off forever
putting it under a cut cause it got rlly long
uh so my favorite songs currently are it's not a fashion statement its a deathwish by mcr, fresh concrete by bears in trees, and coeur d'alene by the head and the heart. these aren't necessarily my favorite songs of all time or even by these bands cause i don't have the brainpower to rank every song ive ever heard in my head and honestly i don't think that's how love of a piece of art works but off the top of my head it's these. i could add more but im cutting it short for brevity
starting with the outlier: the head and the heart was my mom's favorite band for a long time, so the band in general has a lot of nostalgia attached, and this song in particular i like because it really captures how difficult it is to maintain relationships with people you care about, which is definitely something i and a lot of other people can relate to. i really like the bit that goes "you're in my soul now, you've gotta waste away with me." i feel like it's probably not the healthiest attitude towards a relationship but it's really useful when you just wanna cut ties with everyone you care about and disappear off the face of the earth, y'know? like yeah loving is work and it's hard but you're a part of my soul now so it's not like i could remove myself from you even if i tried. with the caveat that if the relationship is toxic or unhealthy and not being in each other's live truly is the best course of action than that's. what should happen. but like in general it's like. yeah. also you gotta listen to this song right after cats and dogs its the rule. real autumn vibes as a song
fresh concrete by bears in trees is. a song. personally the reason i first found myself drawn to it is because it coincidentally mirrored a particular significant event of my life pretty much exactly, and because i was just getting out of (or maybe into? i don't rlly remember) a bears in trees hyperfixation around when if first came out. the combo of the coincidence and the hyperfixation kinda immediately rocketed it into favorite bears in trees song, which then rocketed it into favorite song territory by virtue of bears in trees being one of my favorite bands. also it was (more or less i think) the band's first fancy official music video and i thought that was so cool. i watched that video over and over again. i wouldn't say it's the best bears in trees song, but i do think it's the best at being what it is. what fresh concrete is to me, at its core, is a song that almost perfectly sums up my feelings about a specific time in my life, and that predictably means a lot to me. it makes me feel seen, y'know? also it is the most late spring early summer song to ever exist.
lastly: deathwish. this one also reminds me of a specific time of my life, but mostly it hits me in the adhd. i particularly like the line "you told me this gets harder well it did!" cause it resonates with the realization that it's just going to keep getting harder, and it's never going to stop, and all you're just gonna have to keep on failing at the same things forever. it's realizing that if life and your reactions to it stay on the same course then you're not gonna make it more than a couple years. it's realizing that you've got a life that you're failing at, that you won't never succeed at doing anything with. and it's like what's stopping you y'know? there must be something intrinsically wrong with you but also there can't be anything intrinsically wrong with you cause that would take the blame off you for failing your life and it's definitely all your own fault. there was also a specific phenomena that occurred when i came to terms with being suicidal where i stopped being afraid of anything cause it's like. what's the worst you can do. kill me? jokes on you that's what i want. which is a kinda arrogant point of view and definitely telling about me and my experiences as a person but. that's what this song feels like. but it definitely does hit in the adhd. late fall early winter vibes
honorable mention: the only hope for me is you mcr
favorite album artwork is probably the bullets cover mcr. purple and orange and yellow and harry houdini on a hook :)
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uas-fics · 3 years
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Chapter 1 - Chapter 2
Read on AO3
Title: How to Train A Champion and Keep Your Reputation Intact
Summary: Piers doesn’t want to coach Leon, but the last thing Piers needs is for everyone to know a cool punk like him used to perform in Pokemon Contests! If it means keeping his reputation intact, he’ll begrudgingly teach this ray of sunlight what he knows.
Fandom: Pokemon Sword and Shield
Ships: LeonxPiers | dnnz
Rating: T
Contest Warnings: N/A
Chapter 1: The Early Morning Visitor
----
Of the people Piers expected to be sitting across his kitchen table at eight in the morning, the former champion was not one of them. Leon wasn't even in the top ten, yet here he was, twiddling his thumbs behind a cup of tea with a peppy expression on his face.
Piers was barely a human being this early, yet Leon seemed to have the same energy as a particularly bushy-tailed skwovet.
"You have a nice kitchen," Leon commented, more to fill the silence than an actual compliment.
Piers glanced at the pile of take-out containers on the counter then the singular shoe that hadn't made it to his room with its partner the night before. His kitchen was nothing spectacular, and it didn't need to be. His home was a place to crash or bring a date, not some fancy townhouse. With only he and Marnie there, why should he bother fancying the place up?
"What do you want, Leon?" Piers took a sip of his tea.
Leon wrapped his fingers around his cup but didn't move to drink. If Leon would have preferred coffee, he could have said something before Piers poured him a cup. It'd be a waste to pour it down the drain.
"Well, it's a little silly, but I could use your help with something," Leon explained.
Piers narrowed his eyes.
Leon was the chairman of the Pokemon League. Piers gave his gym over to Marnie after the last Champion tournament. What could he want Piers to help with at this point? The only connection he had with the League was Marnie.
Unless...
"I swear if you're goin' to pull the same shit as Rose did and try to get me to make Marnie move the gym—"
"No, no, nothing like that!" Leon raised his hands, palms facing out. "It has nothing at all to do with Spikemuth or the gym."
"Then what does it have to do with?" Piers leaned back and crossed his arms.
"Uh, well, alright," Leon didn't meet his eyes, "it's about a rumor."
Piers' frown deepened. He always had rumors about him floating about. It came with his persona.
"I heard Piers beat a man to a pulp because he spilled his drink on him." or "I heard Piers took three girls back to his home and made them leave before the sun was even up." or he was a dealer of rare hallucinogenic flowers or that he used his pokemon to break into Rose's office and peed in a potted plant behind his desk.
There was rarely any truth to the rumors. He didn't care to squash them. He was a dark-type trainer, having everyone thinking he was a bigger badass than he already was could not hurt his reputation.
"C'mon, mate, aren't you a little old to be listenin' to rumors?" Piers cocked an eyebrow.
"It's not a bad rumor.”
"What's the rumor then?"
"Ah, well, I heard," He paused to clear his throat, "that you, ah, that you competed in pokemon contests when you were younger—and that you won."
Piers barely kept his face deadpan.
Where had Leon heard that? Those contests happened just before posting on the internet boomed, so it wasn't like the contests were live-streamed and archived. The only video that he knew existed of his contest days hid in a box in the back of a closet. Marnie captured it when she could barely see over the railings at the stadiums. Even then, the video quality was terrible and Marnie kept moving the camera around. He looked like a black and white blob in them.
He forced himself to calm down. He could easily deny this rumor. No one would believe he, Piers, former Spikemuth gym leader, head of Team Yell, the fierce trainer of powerful dark-types, would ever compete in a pokemon contest.
"Where did you hear that?" Piers reached for his tea just to have something in his hands.
What credibility did this rumor spreader have? Probably none. Denying this would be easy.
"Oh, I heard your sister mention it."
Piers nearly dropped his cup.
Shit.
He could not deny this, not without putting Marnie's credibility on the line. She was still a new gym leader. The last thing she needed was the chairman thinking she was a gossip.
He hissed out a breath. "Oh, did she?"
"Yeah, she was talking to Opal while Bede filled out some papers," Leon told him. "She said she remembered you used to be good at pokemon contests. That's why I'm here."
"So what?" Piers spat. "It isn't illegal, now is it?"
Why couldn't this have been about Malamar scaring passers-by on Route 7 when he was bored? Why could this have been about the rave Piers helped throw in an abandoned mine last month? Why could it have been about pissing in the potted plant? Why couldn't this have been about anything else?!
Leon frowned. "Of course not—"
"Then why are you askin' me about it?"
"Because I wanted your help to win one."
Piers' mouth gaped. Did he hear that right? Leon, the former champion, one of the strongest pokemon trainers in all of Galar, wanted to enter a pokemon contest.
He stuck a finger in his ear and twisted it.
"Sorry, say that again. I must have somethin' in my ear. I didn't just hear you ask for help in a pokemon contest."
"That is what I asked." Leon beamed. "There is one in Ballonlea in two weeks and I want to enter, but I don't know the first thing about them. If you know, you could help me—if you want to, that is."
"Why?" Piers held back from pinching himself. How was this not a dream? Maybe he was messing with hallucinogenic flowers after all.
Reaching into his pocket, Leon took out a folded piece of lavender paper. He laid it flat on the table, smoothing it with the side of his hand, before pushing it over. The faint scent of roses wafted from it.
"All are invited to the first Bellonlea Pokemon Contest!" It read in a flowing, elegant font. "Coordinators of all ages and skill levels are invited to the Bellonlea Stadium to participate in a Pokemon Contest. Please contact the Bellonlean Ladies' Society for more details and how to enter."
"Was this ‘ppose to explain somethin'?" Piers pushed the flyer back. "Why do you want to win a contest?"
"That prize, of course!" Leon took his phone from his pocket. He scrolled a moment then turned the screen to Piers.
A picture of a red and white hat with a black logo stared back. It honestly looked like something an overly-excited ten-year-old would win from a cereal box drawing.
"It's a hat." Piers peered over the top of the phone to look at the hat Leon already had on.
"It's not just a hat. It's a limited edition!" Leon pulled his phone back. "I had one when I was a little kid, but I lost it to an angry corvisquire. The first place in the beginner contest wins it."
"And you can't just, you know, buy one for yourself?" He rolled his hand. "I know you have sponsorships out your ass." Piers looked down pointedly at his Spikemuth Chamber of Commerce shirt for emphasis.
Leon shrugged. "What fun is that?"
Piers downed half his drink in one go. The burn on his throat reassured him he wasn't dreaming.
"Piers?" Leon leaned over the table, his face alight with a smile. "Can't I talk you into helping me out? Please? I promise to owe you one after this."
Piers groaned. What choice did he have? He couldn't deny it without hurting Marnie's reputation. Their reputation used to be the only valuable he and Marnie had to their names, besides each other. Lying to Leon to save his own skin was not an option.
"Yeah, yeah, alright." Piers raised his hands in defeat. "Fine. I'll do it, but," he held a finger up in Leon's face, "you have to swear on your life that you won't tell a soul about it. I don't need anyone thinkin’ I ever put any of my pokemon in a frilly suit or made them dance around like pretty ballerinas or some shit."
Leon nearly jumped across the table. He put his hands on Piers' shoulders and squeezed a little too hard.
"Thanks a million for this!" He hopped up. "Where should we train? I think I understand the rules, but maybe we should go over the rules first? Or outfit—"
"Tomorrow." Piers cut him off. "We'll start tomorrow."
Leon's face fell like a growlithe that just had his bone taken from him. Piers held his sad gaze. Marnie's morpoko did the same pout when she wanted something, and Piers knew better than to give in.
If Leon still wanted to learn how to be a coordinator, he had to prove himself first. A day would be enough time for Piers to think up obstacles to make Leon forget about the silly notion. Contests, despite the stereotype, were hard work. While beginner contests weren't all that complicated, Piers didn't mind sprinkling in some of the more difficult to grasp bits from the higher tiers. With any luck that would confuse Leon right out of the idea and out of Piers' life.
Leon took a breath. He pulled his hands from Piers and squared his shoulders.
"I'll meet you back here at eight sharp tomorrow and then we can get started."
"No. You'll meet me outside Spikemuth at noon."
"Oh, well, alright. It'll be a champ—" Leon caught himself from using his old catchphrase. "It'll be a fun time."
"That's one way to think of it," Piers muttered, feeling less and less enthused at the arrangement by the second.
----
True to his word, Leon stood outside the front gate of Spikemuth at noon on the dot. He perked up when he saw Piers and jumped in front of him.
"Good afternoon, Teacher Piers."
He winked.
Piers wrinkled his nose.
"Call me that again, and I'm callin' this off."
Leon laughed nervously. "Sorry." He whistled. "Sooooo, what should I learn first? How to use music? Or pose? I'm already pretty good at that."
"How about the rules?"
Piers waved him to follow down the road towards the Spikemuth Tunnel. People were less likely to eavesdrop on them if they walked.
"Alright, rules. I know there are two rounds, and each trainer uses only one pokemon."
"Coordinator," Piers corrected sharply.
He promised to teach, but he didn't promise to be entirely pleasant while doing it.
"Yeah. There are two rounds. The first round is the Performance Stage. You show off your pokemon's appeal with a choreographed set of moves. The judges will assign points based on how well the performance fits into particular categories."
Piers began to ramble on about the different move categories as if the contest in Bellonlea would be so complicated. Beginner contests weren't judged by the five categories individually like higher-ranked contests.
Back when Galar still had a contest circuit, the people in beginner contests were kids with weak pokemon that might only know two or three moves. A performance with a cool move first and a cute move next wouldn't be judged as harshly as the first rank contest would.
However, Leon didn't need to know that. If he thought that the category system was complicated and—in Piers' humble opinion—limited and stupid, maybe he would back out.
"And that's all there is to the appeals rules." Piers looked at Leon, expecting him to be confused and dejected at the long-winded explanation, but instead found him holding onto every word.
"Well, that doesn't seem too hard." He nodded. "It's just putting on a show in a time limit with your partner. Easy."
"We'll see how easy you think it is when you're doing it." Piers stood under a shade tree. "The next round is the harder one. It's the battle round."
"Battle? I thought contests were for show, not for fighting."
Piers cackled at the genuine confusion on Leon's face. Of course, he would think that. That silly stereotype about contests never seemed to die, did it? Coordinators didn't just train their pokemon to teach them new moves. Their partner had to be strong to last the battles against one another. Even though Piers was a gym leader when he did contests, he still struggled against the stronger opponents.
He idly grabbed a lower branch and bent it down. If he didn’t slouch, Piers was tall enough that he could just about reach into the pokemon nest a few branches up with relative ease.
"You would think that, wouldn't you?" He opened his hand.
The branch whipped up and hit the branch the nest was on. The skwovet in the nest jumped with a squeak. Its sudden movement knocked a sitrus berry over the side.
"In the second round, two coordinators battle to remove points from the opponent, usin' moves that fall into the contest categories." He snatched the sitrus berry out of the air.
The skwovet glared at Piers. Piers smirked at it before wiping the berry on his shirt. The pokemon chattered and hurried higher into the tree.
Leon frowned at Piers' interaction with the skwovet. Piers met his gaze, daring him to comment on it.
Leon cleared his throat. "That wasn't necessary."
"It was an accident."
Leon pursed his lips in doubt but didn't argue. Instead, he said, "So it's a battle, but it's an entertaining battle. I can do that."
Around a bite of berry, Piers shrugged, "It's a five-minute battle, but the point of the battle isn't to knock out your opponent with the first move. No one needs to faint. It's to show that your pokemon is better than theirs."
Piers half-expected Leon to go on about how no pokemon was better than another, instead, Leon stroked his chin in thought. Maybe Leon realized that a contest wouldn't be as fun as he thought and wanted to give up on the idea.
The branches above shook and the skwovet chattered. A leppa berry slammed into the ground near Piers' boot. The skwovet, arm loaded with unripe leppa berries, held up another. It threw it. Piers took a step to the side.
"Nice try," he mocked. The skwovet's fur bristled. It tossed down the rest of its armful and missed every time. With a huff, it stomped back towards its nest to rustle through its hoard.
"Alright. I think I can handle this," Leon said, moving into Piers' personal space and lifting his arm over Piers' head, "with your help."
Grinning, he stepped back then opened his fist to present an oran berry. The skwovet cried out in frustration. Piers rubbed the top of his head. He glanced up at the wild pokemon once more before walking away from the tree, with Leon in tow. It was best not to test his luck anymore. The skwovet might use a move on him and the last thing he wanted was to spend the night picking slobbery bullet seeds out of his hair.
The skwovet angrily chattered but seemed to give up. It hurried down the tree to gather its berries. Leon crouched to roll the oran berry over. The skwovet eyed him but snatched the berry up to shove into its cheeks anyway.
Piers raised an eyebrow. Maybe this training wouldn't be as bad as he thought.
----
The training area outside Spikemuth wasn't much, just a patch of barren earth that trainers from Spikemuth would come to battle when they didn't feel like using the gym. Currently, the only souls there were Piers and Leon. Since Marnie took over as gym leader, the younger trainers of the city moved their training back to the gym.
"They didn't want to come when you were the gym leader. They think you're scary," Marnie had explained. "Dunno why though. You're about as scary as a teddisuara."
Piers crossed his arms. "Do you know which pokemon you're goin' use? These are Hoenn rules, so you can only use one."
Leon tapped the pokeballs at his belt. "I'm not sure. I didn't think I could go in with Charizard, so I didn't bring him with me."
"Why not Charizard?"
"Everyone knows what my Charizard looks like," Leon explained. "And I don't think I can pretend not to be me if I use him."
Piers' brows furrowed. What in the world was he talking about?
Upon seeing Piers' expression, Leon chuckled to himself.
"I guess I forgot to tell you." He put his hands on his hips and set his feet a shoulder-width apart. "I'm going to do this contest in disguise."
The hope Piers just acquired vanished.
"You're what?"
"I'm going in disguise," He repeated. "I was the champion, and now I'm chairman. That would give me an unfair advantage, don't you think?"
Piers pinched the bridge of his nose. Of course, Leon would want to win on a level playing field. The Bellonean Ladies' Society would probably just give him the stupid hat if he promised to simply show up and bring more attention to the event. If he did that, Piers could have stayed at home and lazed about, but, noooo, Leon had to win his silly hat fair and square.
"How do you plan to do that?"
"Well, I hoped you could help me with that, too." Leon pointed to his face. "I've seen your stage makeup, and you're talented. I bet you could make me look like a different person."
Piers hated that he couldn't argue with that. Not long after he decided to follow his dream of being a punk star, one of the gym trainers offered to teach him the basics of cosmetics. Once he had the basics down, it only took a year of using his pokemon, friends, and Marnie as test subjects for him to perfect his art.
He could easily make Leon's face look different enough: soften his cheekbones, maybe a few freckles, pull his bangs back, color contacts, and glasses...Leon would look good in glasses, even if it meant hiding his natural eye color...
Piers shook his head. He hadn't agreed to anything but training for the contest. He was not giving Leon a makeover like they were preteens at a slumber party.
Leon pursed his lips. "It would be pointless if I won because of who I am. That wouldn't be fair to the other train—coordinators."
"No. Figure that out yourself."
Leon sighed, his shoulders slumped. He muttered under his breath, something Piers couldn't make out. Finally, he straightened and shrugged.
"You know, I have to approve the budgets for each gym provided by the league," he lifted one finger and wagged it as he continued, "and wouldn't it be nice if Spikemuth got a little extra in their budget so their new gym leader could fix up her gym stadium? I know the Spikemuth Chamber of Commerce can't always give too much to the gym, and it needs a few repairs."
Piers' mouth fell a gape. Did Leon just try to bribe him through his sister? He had to admit, he was impressed. It wasn't the best bribery offer he'd ever been given, but considering whom the offer came from and what Marnie would get in return, he decided to give in.
"Make sure the gym gets enough to replace the crumplin’ stadium walls, and I'll do it." Piers stuck out his hand.
Leon took the offered hand in his and shook once. "I knew you'd have a change of heart."
Piers yanked his hand back. "Change of heart my ass. Just send out your pokemon."
With a nod, Leon let out each of his pokemon in turn: Aegislash, Haxorus, Dragapult, Mr. Rime, Seismatoad, then Rhyperior. True to his word, he hadn't brought his ace pokemon with him. Like a well-oiled machine, they quickly lined up and turned their full attention to their trainer.
Pride rolled off Leon as he gazed at his team. Up until last year, this team was undefeated. Leon kept them at their best and even Piers could call that admirable.
"Alright everyone, listen here." Leon clapped his hands as if any of them didn't have their eyes on him. "Remember how I said we were going to enter a contest? Well, only one of you can enter it with me."
Leon's Mr. Rime leaned on his cane and Aegislash shifted his shield, though the other pokemon didn't react one way or another to the news.
"Contests aren't like normal battling. They're a performance." Leon gestured to Piers. "Piers is going to help pick the best one of you for the contest."
Piers snorted. "Oh, didn't I tell you? I'm not assessin' your team."
Leon's hand dropped to his side. He tilted his head.
"You're not?"
"No."
Piers took out the only pokeball he had on him. With a flick of the wrist, he released his own contest partner. The stench of rotten eggs filled the air. Everyone but Piers jerked back to cover their noses.
Skuntank shook himself out. He stretched his front paws forward then pulled the rest of his body up like a cat in a sunbeam. Piers crouched down and patted his partner between the ears.
"Skuntank here won nearly every contest he entered," Piers explained. "He knows more about them than even I do, I'd say. Even keeps track of the Sinnoh contests online. If anyone can give this team a proper assessment, it'll be him."
Skuntank lifted his head proudly then stomped forward. He stalked up, down, and around the line, eyeing each pokemon. He stopped in front of Haxorus, narrowed his eyes, and rumbled. Haxorus shuffled nervously. She looked to her team members then back at Skuntank. Siesmatoad shrugged, and Dragapult looked away.
Satisfied, Skuntank trotted back to Piers. He took a breath and stated something to the pokemon, loud and clear.
The other pokemon were taken aback. They muttered amongst themselves, all except Mr. Rime and Aegislash. With his chest puffed out, Mr. Rime strode forward. A moment later, Aegislash floated next to him. The rest of the team remained still.
"That's the two to choose from," Piers said. To the other members of Leon's team, he continued, "You can go over there. Take a rest why don't you?" He jabbed his thumb towards the grass at the side of the training area.
Without missing a beat, Dragapult floated away, soon followed by Siesmatoad, Haxorus, and Rhyperior.
Leon gasped. "That's amazing. How does Skuntank know?"
It wasn't as if Skuntank could smell contest talent on Mr. Rime and Aegislash. It just so happened that when Skuntank asked, Mr. Rime and Aegislash wanted to enter a contest. The rest weren't interested.
Ignoring Leon's question, Piers asked, "How do you want to decide between these two."
Leon blinked. "Isn't that what Skuntank is here for?"
With a thump, Skuntank flopped to the ground, paws under his chin, and shut his eyes.
"He's filled his quota." Piers said. "This is your job, Mr. Chairman."
Leon stroked his chin. He crouched down between his pokemon. Mr. Rime tapped his feet and spun his cane. Leon lifted his eyebrows at the impromptu performance. Not to be outdone, Aegislash held his shield up and spun it on the end of his arm. He tossed the shield then expertly caught it.
Mr. Rime danced backward. He spun in a circle, holding his cane up to the sky. From the tip of the cane, snow flurried around him, glittering like tiny diamonds.
Aegislash, upon seeing Leon's dazzled expression at Mr. Rime's performance, clanged his shield and blade together. With his trainer's attention back on him, Aegislash whipped his arm out. The shield rolled out on its side into the middle of the battle area. In the blink of an eye, Aegislash descended into his shadow. Using shadow sleek, he hurried in front of the shield.
Aegislash burst from the ground, large and dark. He whipped the shield up. the sun glinted off the polished metal. Contrasted against Aegislash's dark form, the shining shield appeared like a bright star in the night sky.
Leon's mouth fell a gape. "Wow, I didn't know you could do that, Aegislash."
Aegislash returned to his normal appearance and smugly shurgged. Mr. Rime stomped his foot in frustration. He put his fingers to his mouth and whistled for Leon to look at him. Once again, his cane spun. Around him, aurous panes of light screen appeared then frosted over. Mr. Rime stopped and raised his arms. The light screen panes shot up and burst like fireworks.
Aegislash bristled. His grip on his shield tightened and his single eye narrowed. Mr. Rime sneered at him as Leon carefully picked up the frozen light screen fragments to examine.
Piers clapped his hands once. "Don't you lot make this a battle." To Leon, he ordered, "You need to pick one."
Leon stood. "But they're both really talented."
From behind them, Skuntank snorted. Aegislash and Mr. Rime turned their glares from each other to the dark-type.
Piers agreed with Leon, even if his pokemon didn't, but leaving those two to keep one-upping each other wouldn't end well. Leon had to pick a partner for the contest, even if it would hurt someone's feelings.
Leon thought on his choice then slumped forward with a sigh. He rummaged in his pocket and held up a coin.
"I can't decide," he admitted. "Heads for Mr. Rime and tails for Aegislash."
He flicked the coin into the air. Like the oran berry before, he caught it from the air. With a hard smack that made the top of Pier's hand hurt, Leon slapped it on the top of his hand. Aegislash and Mr. Rime stood tense as Leon slowly lifted his hand.
"Heads."
Mr. Rime jumped up with joy. Aegislash dropped his shield to the ground with a thud. Leon reached out to comfort him, but Aegislash waved him away. Dragging his shield through the dirt, he trudged towards the other pokemon.
Skuntank lumbered back to his feet. He intercepted Aegislash. Skuntank rumbled at Aegislash. He silently mulled over what Skuntank said then lifted his shield from the ground.
In a voice like clashing metal, Aegislash yelled at Mr. Rime. Mr. Rime stumbled in his tap dancing, looking shocked at what his teammate said. Skuntank cackled, slapping the ground with his paw. With his mood improved considerably, Aegislash led Skuntank away to join the other pokemon.
----
Mr. Rime was a showman. Even with the occasional heckle from Skuntank, he and Leon managed to cobble together the start of an alright appeal round. After Piers finally admitted that the move categories meant shit all for the beginner contests, Leon decided to make use of what Mr. Rime already presented: sparkling snow and unique uses of psychic power.
Piers, for his part, offered critique when he saw a move that might be too showy or too dull, but mostly left Leon to his own devices. After all, Leon was the one entering, not him.
A thunderbolt tore through an icy column, shattering it. A glow of psychic power protected some of the ice from the heat. When the mist cleared, what remained was the carving of the Champion's logo.
Leon pumped his fist. "There we go!"
Skuntank muttered something to Aegislash, who replied in agreement. Though he hadn't been as loud in his criticism as Skuntank, Aegislash made snide remarks for every misstep.
Piers had more fun watching Skuntank and Aegislash than Leon and Mr. Rime, honestly.
As the heat both from the thunderbolts and the day wore on, Piers was thankful he choose to sit under the shade instead of directly interact with Leon.
Though on the field, he would have had a better view.
Every time Leon raised his shirt to wipe the sweat from his brow, Piers turned his attention towards him. Rehain once mentioned Leon weight trained and exercised to stay as fit as his team, and Piers could tell. He stared at the well-formed muscles usually hidden under Leon’s shirt several times before finally being caught.
“Is something wrong? Is this too much?” Leon gestured to Mr. Rime’s newest ice sculpture.
Piers made up a suggestion to save himself the embarrassment.
“It’s fine, but you’re rushin’. Slow down, if you know how to do that,” Piers replied, turning his head to hide his pink cheeks against his shoulder.
“Oh, alright.” Leon nodded. “Mr. Rime, take a few more seconds before calling down the thunderbolt!”
Stuntank chuckled and Piers sent him a glare.
“Shut up,” he hissed, earning another laugh from Stuntank.
Something pulled at Piers' sleeve. One of Dragapult's dreepy chewed on his jacket. When Piers acknowledged it, it flew in a circle trying to get him to play with it. It went to nip at the end of one of his ponytails.
Dragapult sighed and wrapped his tail around the dreepy to pull it back. He gave Piers an apologetic look.
The rest of Leon's team wasn't doing much better. They were bored out of their minds.
Siesmatoad ripped a clump of grass from the ground and tossed it in her mouth. Rhyperior and Haxorus took turns stabbing leaves through their horns or tusks, seeing who could make the biggest hole without tearing the leaf in half.
Before Leon and Mr. Rime could start again, Piers called, "That's enough for today."
He stood and put his hands on his lower back to stretch. Skuntank grumbled but got to his paws.
"Well, if you say so." Leon came over to the crowd of pokemon with Mr. Rime. "Everyone ready?"
Seismatoad spat out the grass clump, nearly hitting Rhyperior's foot. Dragapult cooed and the rest of his dreepy hoard hurried out of the tall grass. Aegislash refused to look at Mr. Rime, instead of staying close to Stuntank. Haxorus bent forward and pressed the button on her pokeball with her mouth scythe, returning herself.
When Leon took out Aegislash's ball, Piers put a hand on his wrist.
"Before you return him, can I ask you a favor?"
Leon raised an eyebrow. "Yes?"
"Aegislash and Skuntank seem to be havin' fun together. Do you think Aegislash could come back with me for tonight?" Piers asked. Skuntank stamped a foot and wheezed in approval.
Leon lowered Aegislash's pokeball. He bent down so he looked Aegislash in his singular eye.
"Do you want to have a slumber party with Skuntank at Spikemuth?" He spoke like a parent to a child. Mr. Rime snickered. Stuntank kicked sand at him with a short growl.
Piers pulled the bill of Leon's hat down over his eyes.
"Aegislash is probably older than both of us combined," he reminded. "Don't call it a slumber party."
Leon pushed his hat up and wrinkled his brow. Realization crossed his face.
"Ah." He asked Aegislash, "Do you want to have a date with Skuntank at Spikemuth?"
Piers went to pull Leon's hat clean off, but Aegislash took hold of the bill and pulled until it completely covered Leon's face with the bill touching his chin. He rolled his eye and shrugged towards Skuntank. Skuntank snickered and shook his head back in reply.
Leon laughed, taking the hat into his lap. "I'm joking. I'm joking. Sorry." He put a hand on Aegislash's shoulder. "Really, if you want to hang out with Skuntank for the night, you can." He smiled sincerely.
Aegislash paused, eyed his trainer, then seemed to sigh. He took the hat from Leon's hands and set it on his head. He patted his head, like a parent pacifying a child. Aegislash floated by him towards Skuntank.
-----
“Listen up.”
Piers whistled to the crowd of dark-type pokemon around the Spikemuth stadium. All heads turned towards him and the two pokemon by his side.
“This is Aegislash. He’s part of Chairman Leon’s team.” Piers nodded to Aegislash. “He’s visitin' for the night, so don’t be an asshole.”
He sent a pointed look at Malamar, who crossed his tentacles. Malamar only recently got out of trouble for scaring people around Spikemuth. Neither he nor Marnie needed Aegislash going back to Leon traumatized from Malamar's pranks.
The gym pokemon muttered and mumbled to themselves, eyeing Aegislash suspiciously.
Going well so far.
No one jumped to attack or called out an obscenity towards the new pokemon. Already it was going better when Raihan brought his pokemon over to play while he and Piers visited. Not one sucker punch to the back.
Marnie’s Grimsnarl picked up the toy ball and held it protectively. Both scrafty scooted to shield their tower of cards. Obstagoon took his nose out of a bag of crisps for a moment before shoving it right back in. Liepard yawned, purposely exposing her fangs, before laying her head on Toxicroak’s lap. Toxitricity peeked an eye open from his corner then continued strumming his chest. Morpeko jumped off the stage and scurried over to Aegislash and Skuntank.
She greeted them. Skuntank wheezed to her as Aegislash lifted his shield in a hello. Morpeko spoke with Aegislash a moment before turning to the rest of the pokemon. She took a deep breath and shouted to them her approval.
Malamar snorted but uncrossed his tentacles. Grimsnarl slowly took the ball back out. Neither scrafty moved from their hard work. Toxitricity waved idly. Liepard and Toxicroak and Obstagoon didn’t acknowledge the announcement, the former two napping and the latter still stuffing his maw.
Skuntank jerked his head towards Toxitricity's corner of the gym. Aegislash and Morpeko followed after. Grimsnarl and Malamar watched them closely.
Marnie took a bite of her hamburger. Around it, she asked, “Is that really Leon’s aegislash?”
Piers open the bag from Bob’s Your Uncle to dig out his order. “He is. He and Leon’s Mr. Rime got into a fight, and Aegislash wanted to be away.”
“So Leon asked you?” She swallowed.
Piers thought on his feet. “Dark and ghost types are pretty close when you get down to it. Born of night and the deepness of the soul and all that.”
“Shouldn’t he have asked Allister?”
Piers took a bite of his burger and slowly chewed. He swallowed and said, “Kid must have been busy. He’s still got school to go— just like you.” Piers smirked, leaning over. “And how’s that school work going, little sis?”
Marnie blushed. She huffed, snatched the bag from Piers, then marched to the stage at the other end of the stadium.
Even being a gym leader, Marnie still had to go to school like every other kid her age. Since she was still learning to juggle gym leader duties and school, Marnie fell behind in her classes and had to take extra lessons.
Piers had been the same when he took over the gym, but he usually skipped after-school lessons. She complained about the lessons often, and Piers offered an understanding ear.
He wasn’t above using this information against her, though.
With long strides, he followed his sister. He overtook her quickly. Holding his burger between his teeth, Piers hopped onto the stage and sat, his toes brushing the ground. Marnie walked up the steps to sit near him. She purposefully set the bag with their food on the side farthest away from Piers. He leaned across her to fish his chips out of the bag.
They sat in companionable silence, watching the pokemon as they ate their fast food.
When Marnie’s scrafty turned to open another pack of cards for their tower, Malamar raised a tentacle glowing in psychic power. With both scrafty backs to it, a card from the middle of the tower pulled itself out.
Piers’ scrafty gasped and tried to hold the wobbling tower together, but only managed to save the top two cards from falling. As the scrafty started to argue, Grimsnarl went to the wooden crate next to the stage. She sat her ball inside and began to dig through the pokemon toys until she found another ball. This ball was worn and patched up. She wandered over to Malamar to talk.
Skuntank, Toxtricity, and Aegislash lounged against one of the crumbling stadium walls as Morpeko chewed on a berry. They made friendly conversation until Grimsnarl and Malamar came over. Grimsnarl raised her ball.
Skuntank shrugged and spoke to Aegislash. Malamar sneered at Aegislash. Aegislash rolled his eye and pushed himself up. Skuntank slowly lumbered to his feet. Toxtricity shook his head. Morpeko tossed her berry up and caught it in her mouth before standing as well.
Piers nudged Marnie and pointed at the pokemon as they walked to the middle of the stadium.
Grimsnarl tossed the ball and hit it to Skuntank. Skuntank bopped it with his head. The ball dropped towards Aegislash. Aegislash raised an arm to hit it, but Malamar’s tentacle shot out and smacked the ball up. Aegislash snapped something at Malamar, who ignored him.
Piers chuckled to himself as the game of hot potato continued. Every time the ball neared Aegislash, Malamar or Grimsnarl made sure to hit it before he could. Of course, they were testing him. Being on the former champion’s team wasn’t enough to prove Aegislash worthy, even with Stuntank and Morpeko's approval.
Soon Aegislash had enough. When Malamar went to hit the ball for himself, Aegislash shadow sleeked behind him. He burst from the ground and slapped the ball towards Grimsnarl. The attack on her friend took Grimsnarl by surprise. She stumbled back trying to hit the ball but missed. For the first time since the game started, the ball bounced against the floor.
Skuntank cackled. Morpeko chased after the ball. Malamar stared at Aegislash, who held his ground.
Marnie started to push off the stage to break up the fight, but Piers put a hand out to stop her.
After a few tense heartbeats, Malamar coughed a laugh. He covered his beak and shook his head. Grimsnarl took the ball back from Morpeko. Seeing the newfound respect for Aegislash from Malamar, she went back over to the box to switch the worn, old ball, for a nicer ball with a pink and cream polka-dot pattern.
Marnie let out a breath. Piers tossed a chip in his mouth.
He knew things would work out well. Like his trainer, Aegislash was endearing in his determination.
He wondered what Leon was doing while the Spikemuth pokemon played. As late as it was, he was probably home, or maybe he was training with Mr. Rime for the contest. Piers could almost see him now working with Mr. Rime to pose in time with some pop song.
Leon worked hard for what he wanted. It's no wonder he became champ so young and held the title for nearly a decade. If Piers had that kind of drive, he wouldn’t have left Spikemuth fall into disrepair as he did.
He bet he could ask Leon to help him fix up Spikemuth, and not just the gym. The outside walls needed the myriad of penises and breasts painted over. He could do it, but it would be better with some company, particularly with company that had the energy of a sugar-high puppy. Enjoying the outside air, just talking and working—That would be fun. Piers would be willing to wake up early for that.
Piers reached into his chip container absentmindedly but found nothing but salt. He jerked out of his thoughts to see his last two chips disappear—one into Morpeko’s mouth and one into Marnie’s.
“The hell?” He held his hands out towards the empty container.
“Do you have a new girlfriend?” She asked bluntly.
Piers choked on his tongue. “What?” He shook his head. “No! Why would you think that?”
“A boyfriend? A non-binary friend?”
“No,” Piers assured. “I don’t have anyone.”
“Huh.” Marnie scratched Morpeko behind the ears. “You had that look on your face.”
“Look?” Piers’ stomach clenched as he asked, “What look?”
“That look.” Marnie pulled her pokemon to her lap. “The one you get before Morpeko and me find some gushy love song folded up on the living room floor. It happens every time.”
Piers’ ears grew hot. Twice, Marnie found his secret love songs twice. For that reason, he didn’t even write them on scrap paper anymore but in a nondescript notebook in his dresser drawer—which he hadn’t pulled out since he broke up with an ex gym trainer more than a year ago.
Morpeko stuck her tongue out in disgust at finding another love song. She clambered over Marnie’s arms to the chips container. Morpeko licked her paw, dabbed it in the leftover salt, and cleaned her paw before hopping off the stage to rejoin the game.
“I don’t have a look like that.”
“Yes, you do,” Marnie replied in a sing-song voice. “You get this far away look on your face and a little, tiny smile like you’re thinkin' of somethin’ soft. I only see it when you’re datin’ someone or,” her eyes widen in realization, “you gotta crush.”
Piers’ stomach unclenched and fell to his boots.
“You’ve got a crush, dotcha?” His little sister pried. “Who is it? Do they like you back? Can they like you back? Are they a trainer? What’s their pokemon team? Do you see them often?”
Piers' head spun, blurring the rest of Marnie’s inquiries.
No way. He was too old for crushes, for one thing. For two, if Marnie’s theory held any water, then his ‘crush’ would be Leon.
That wasn’t possible.
Sure, he admired Leon’s strength and his determination. His kindness towards pokemon and others was sweet if a little goody-two-shoes. He was much more clever than he first appeared. His athletic frame stole Piers' attention and he wouldn't mind leaning up against that strength-trained chest.
Oh. Arceus. No.
Piers’ face reddened as he cataloged his thoughts. He did have a crush. He had a crush on Leon. Leon was the Chairman of the League. Not only that, he was and still is the poster child for preppy, sporty trainers everywhere. Leon was the goal children were taught to chase if they wanted to compete.
Only the trainers from Team Yell ever wanted to be anything like Piers, a badass who sang to his own song, not the one society dictated.
Sponsors flocked to Leon like mothim to a flame for his perfect public persona.
Only the Spikemuth Chamber of Commerce ever sponsored Piers, and that’s only because they always sponsored the gym leader.
Leon was the light that the world idolized.
He was the darkness that fought back to prove to those that the shadows were protective and safe for people like him. He was a fierce dark-type trainer. He sang punk rock. He had a band of miscreants who would follow his every order.
He could not have a crush on Leon.
Yet, he did.
What if people found out? Arceus, if news got around he wanted some of Leon’s finely toned ass—
“Piers?” Marnie poked his cheek.
He jumped, losing his balance and tumbling off the stage.
At the thud of his fall, the pokemon stopped their game. Obstagoon tossed his crisps bag aside to barrel towards his trainer. He skidded to his knees, dramatically throwing his claws up and crying out as if Piers fell off a ten-story building.
Marnie hopped down. Crouching, she asked, “Did you break your face?”
Piers groaned loudly. “Dark void, open up and swallow me. I no longer want to live in this cruel world that would play my heart like a harp string and snap it with its sick, twisted irony.”
Once Piers went on with his dramatic monologue, the pokemon returned to their games, confident Piers was fine. Obstagoon patted the back of Piers’ head reassuringly.
Marnie crouched next to him. “Is the person you have a crush on that bad? Are they married or,” she lowered her voice, “old?”
“We’re the same age.” Piers didn’t lift his head from the ground. “He’s single as far as I know.”
Marnie poked his cheek. “So what’s the matter? Are you too scared to ask him out?”
“No. It’s worse than that.” Piers crawled into Obstagoon’s lap and leaned his back against the warm, somewhat smelly, fur. Obstagoon wrapped him in a hug. He’d seen his trainer confused and in a pansexual punk panic before. Piers needed all the comfort Obstagoon could give him.
Marnie tucked her legs under her and waited expectantly for Piers to clarify.
He sighed, slumping farther down Obstagoon’s lap. Obstagoon’s arm fur tickled his nose as he buried his face in it.
“I can’t ask him out,” Piers muttered. “He’s my opposite.”
“Opposite?” Marnie echoed.
“Opposite,” Piers repeated. He paused, then said, “I’m punk. He does ballet. What more can I say?”
Her brows furrowed. She opened her mouth, then shut it, opened, shut, then tilted her head with one eyebrow raised.
"He dances?”
Piers rolled his head away. “You kids have no culture.” He sighed. “He’s the kind of person every kid wants to be like. I’m the kind of person kids stop comin’ to community gyms to train because of.”
Marnie hit her fist into her palm. “Oh, I get it. You don’t want to drag down his rep ‘cause people think you’re a lazy delinquent.”
“Hey!” Piers bolted up, right into Obstagoon’s hanging tongue. He wiped the slobber off his forehead with his forearm. He jabbed a finger at Marnie.
“It’s the other way around. He’d pull mine up from a mysterious, cool rebel rocker.”
He cringed at himself. Out loud it sounded childish. What was he, a schoolboy?
Piers flopped back against Obstagoon, grabbed Obstagoon’s arm, and dropped it over his face.
“Suffocate me. Please. I need to die to escape this torment.”
With a humph, Marnie wrapped her arms around Obstagoon’s thick forearm and lifted. She looked down at her brother with a frown.
“That’s it?” She shook her head. “That’s sad.”
“You’re a kid. You don’t understand.” Piers countered, trying to pull Obstagoon’s arm back over his face.
Marnie wrinkled her nose and tugged against Piers’ attempts.
“I am not.” She dug her feet into the ground. “It is sad. If you’re a ‘mysterious, cool, rebel rocker,’ why should you care what anyone thinks?”
Piers dropped his hands to his lap.
Without the opposing force against her, Marnie fell backward, still clinging to Obstagoon’s arm. Instead of letting her fall, Obstagoon lifted his arm, leaving her hanging off the ground. He carefully lowered her, but she kept his arm pressed against her chest.
Piers pushed himself up to his feet. He patted the back of his shirt, throwing black and white fur into the air. Without a word, he headed to the stage and picked up the trash from their food.
“Piers?” Marnie hugged Obstagoon’s arm to her chest. “Are you ok? I didn’t break you, did I?”
Piers turned. “Yeah. Just fine.” He walked back, bag in hand. A smile spread across his face as he reached up and ruffled her hair.
“You’re right. I was being the opposite of cool.” He admitted, prying her hands off Obstagoon's arm. “Thanks for reminding me.”
Marnie was right. He was the cool, fierce master of dark-type pokemon. He became one of the strongest trainers in all of Galar without resorting to Dynamax in a pinch.
Why the hell should he give a flying ratata’s ass about what other people think about who he wants to make out with?
He still didn’t want people knowing about his contest days. The stereotype of elitist snob coordinators still hung too closely to contests. The attraction could excuse Leon, but he didn't have a good enough excuse for dressing skuntank in a tophat and glittery, purple bow tie when he was still a stunky yet. Maybe if the contest scene grew a little, he could try again, but until then best keeping that particular secret under wraps.
Marnie shrugged, aloof. “It’s whatever. Someone needs to help you keep your head spun the right way around. I'm the only one qualified for it.”
“What would I do without you?” Piers chuckled.
“Die, probably,” Marnie replied. “So can you ask this guy out? Does he like you at all?”
Piers shrugged.
He didn’t know if Leon liked men. As far as he could remember, Leon never dated anyone of any gender. Leon had always been laser-focused on training and being the strongest trainer in Galar.
But if he did like men, would he be interested in Piers? He didn't know, but given how much time they’d be spending together training for the contest, maybe he could figure it out.
Marnie, her ponytails somewhat righted, asked, “If you need help, Gloria and me could—”
“I’d rather step on a pincurchin,” Piers cut her off, crushed the paper bag into a ball, and tossed it to the side. It bounced and went right through Scrafty's new card tower.
"Sorry," he apologized.
Scrarfy sobbed and slumped back. Marnie’s scrafty looked towards him then sighed. She walked around and helped him pick up the cards, their friendship restored.
“I’ll tell you if I find out anything.” He pointed at the hot potato game still ongoing with his thumb. “Right now, though, you and me don’t need boys when we can play with the best pokemon in the Galar region, though.” To Grimsnarl, he shouted, "Oi, toss it to me!"
Marnie giggled as Piers took her wrist and led her towards the game.
----
AN: Shout out to my friend Sara for the help with this! You da best!!! ^-^)/ Next chapter should be next week? I'll probably post to A03 first though if you want less of a wait.
Also feel free to follow my art blog @uas-art if you enjoyed the chapter art.
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yandere-daze · 3 years
Note
Hi hi! Your whole blog is so nice i love it sm! Could i request headcanons for Hiyori sleeping with his s/o? Like taking a nap or a sleepover... Im starving for Hiyori content...
Awww thank you so much!! You're so sweet and I'm really happy you like what I write, it means a lot to me 🥺😭
And yeah I also noticed a severe lack of Hiyori content on Tumblr, must be really painful for you
Which is why I'm more than happy to provide!! Fair warning that I don't know him that well yet so if anything sounds ooc then I'm very sorry for that!! Anyway enough of my rambling, let's get to it!
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Hiyori having a sleepover with his s/o
It would happen on a day when Hiyori noticed you were particularly stressed out. You always were a hard worker but nowadays you had heavy bag under your eyes, evidence of your severe lack of sleep
Obviously, as your loving boyfriend, he couldn't just idly stand by while you pushed yourself past your limit! After realizing that trying to talk some sense into you wasn't working, he decided to take matters into his own hands and promptly dragged you through the entire ES building despite your insistence that you were fine
A drive to his home was quickly organized as he ushered you into the extravagant limousine. On your way there, Hiyori explained that you were going to have a sleepover together now, so he himself could make sure that you were resting enough and not skipping out on sleep
Excitedly leading you into his room, he would plob down on his bed with you, grasping your cheeks with his hands as he fondly gazes at you
To no one's surprise, his entire room was very luxurious and you felt slightly out of place in this fancy environment, but Hiyori quickly assured you that there was nothing to worry about
You were his significant other, his sun that shined brighter than anyone else, of course you deserved this and so much more!
He has the softest mattress and pillows and the fluffiest blanket, you were sure to have the best quality of sleep imaginable
Of course, having your boyfriend right next to you and cuddling up to you was also a very nice bonus
Why was the first thing that came to mind when thinking about a sleepover with Hiyori that one vine where that one person dramatically lies on their back on there bed and they're like "alright let's tell each other secrets about ourselves. I'll start. I hate you"
Take that exact scenario but instead he rambles on and on about how much he loves you ababsb
He won't stop, no matter how embarrassed you get, even chucking a pillow at him won't get him to stop. It will just earn a pout from him before he starts talking again
Honestly he's just super happy to have you around, thanks to you he can shine even brighter today!
If you're not against it, Bloody Mary would join you both on the bed, the dog more than happy to have his "second owner" ( you're with Hiyori so often that it recognizes you as such now sbsbs) to snuggle against
Before going to sleep, you two put on beauty masks ( he has the really fancy ones of course) to help you properly relax. You both apply the mask on each other's face, your fingers gently touching his face as he smiles brightly
Him laughing when you blush at the close proximity
After you're both done and washed/peeled the mask away after the required time it would finally be time to go to bed. Normally he likes spending as much time with you as possible but now he just wants to make sure you get the amount of sleep you desperately need
The exhausting catching up to you, you soon fall asleep in Hiyori's arms, a fond smile on both of your faces
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boxofbadaddiction · 4 years
Text
Sure to Spark Rumours
Harry Potter x Reader
This story is inspired from a request of my F.R.I.E.N.D.S Themed Prompt List.
Prompts: 4 & 5
"Hi I'm [y/n or Character], I make jokes when I'm uncomfortable."
"I wish I could but I don't want to."
Warnings: a single curse word.
-my first time ever writing for Harry-
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Umbridge had it out for Harry. No matter what he did his sheer existence just seemed to land him in strife. She were determined, it appeared, to punish him over even the smallest of incidents. At this point he'd simply come to expect them.
So, as the various groups of students gathered within the Castle Courtyard watched her Tiny, Gargoyle-like figure barrell across the way towards the Boy-Who-Lived, Harry prepared himself for the worst. Although, he had to admit this weren't a particularly "small" incident this time.
Crabbe and Goyle had been tormenting a Hufflepuff second year as Harry noticed passing by on his way to meet Ron and Hermione. He had warned the two if they didn't stop they'd soon regret it. Naturally, they didn't listen. Rather making matters decidedly worse for themselves by shoving the tiny student down against the stone floor. As a result Crabbe currently found himself sprouting Bat wings across his face, while Goyle fished himself from the slime of the Courtyard fountain. Rushing his dimwitted best friend to the infirmary with a lame threat thrown over his shoulder.
An action which of course caught the attention of the Hogwarts High Inquisitor immediately.
"My, my, my. Mr Potter. Care to explain yourself?" She smiled sweetly up at the boy. Harry glared back at the woman before him with an utterly unimpressed expression. "Please, enlighten me, on what possible grounds could one justify such a heinous attack on a fellow pupil?" Silence. Harry didn't trust the words rolling on the tip of his tongue not to make matters infinitely worse than they already were. "Given the circumstances and your rather...unpleasant, track record there really is no alternative. Yes, I'm afraid suspension is the only -"
"It wasn't Harry!" a voice called. Eyes all turned to its source where a girl was striding proudly towards the pair.
"I beg your pardon?" "It was me. I did it, Harry had nothing to do with it." Harrys eyes went wide, mouth falling open slightly at the girls words. "Is that so?" Umbridge spoke in an unconvinced tone. "Yes. They were bullying some second year and I wouldn't stand for it. I hexed Crabbe then stunned Goyle." The girl stood so confidently before them Harry wondered if she weren't crazy. She had to be to confess to such a thing. He didn't even know her name, yes they were in the same year - he'd seen her in a few of his classes but no more than that. Why would she cover for him?
His eyes traced her body, stopping on the tie which hung from her neck. Green. Why on Earth...
"I must say I find your declaration rather unlikely, Miss?"
"[Y/L/N]."
"Miss [Y/L/N]. Seeing as Harry is the one with his wand drawn, standing in the middle of the courtyard and you were not."
"Didn't fancy sticking around after the fact." She stated bluntly. "Check my wand if you dont believe me. See the last spell I cast." The Slytherin pulled her wand from the pocket of her robes, holding it out expectantly for the Teacher to take. "I hardly find that necessary. Potter is clearly the guilty culprit."
"Then why would I confess?"
"To cover for your friend, of course."
"Friend? I'm friend no of Gryffindor."
"Perhaps I'll simply ask the two unfortunate victims of this assault. That ought to clear this matter up."
"They'll never admit to being bested by a Witch. They'll happily feed into your lie that this was Harrys doing. Much to your satisfaction I'm sure."
"My dear girl, why would that ever bring me any satisfaction?"
"Because he's your favourite toy." The girl shot fiercely. "We all know it." Umbridge began grinding her teeth in frustration before her sickly sweet, fake, smile was forced back upon her face. "That's quiet enough." "Is it?"
A crowd had gathered by now, all captivated by the scene before them. By the amount of attitude being spat in their Teachers face.
"Very well, Miss [Y/L/N] if you would accompany me to my office where we can discuss your actions in private."
"Mmm, I wish I could but I don't want to." She smiled. "The walk just isn't worth the punishment you won't give me. Seeing as how I'm Slytherin so, really, why bother with the added leg work."
"This is not a matter of want. It is obligation. It is a direct order a-"
"And I have refused."
"My office, Miss [Y/L/N] now. I won't ask agai-"
"No."
"DETENTION! Miss [Y/L/N]. 6pm. Tomorrow night, my office." The girl grinned before her angry professor "It's a date." "Be late and the repercussions will be...severe." "I wouldn't miss it for the world." She winked, deliberately antagonising her now.
Umbridge turned sharply on her heel, eyeing the gathered crowd with her head held high before strutting away.
Stunned and excited voices began to swirl amongst the onlookers as to what they just witnessed. A Slytherin just stood up for Harry Potter? This was a scandal! It would be interesting to hear the rumours which this sparked through the school by dinner tonight.
"You shouldn't have done that" Harry spoke, finally having found his voice. "You're welcome." "You have no idea what she's like. What she's capable of. What she's-" "You've faced Voldemort head on, don't tell me you're scared of a Strawberry Shitcake in there." She guestured with her head in the direction Umbridge had walked away. Harrys brows furrowed at her comment. He wasn't sure what took him most by surprise; the fact she wasn't afraid to say the true name of You-Know-Who, the amusing nickname for Umbridge or the fact she was making a joke at a time like this. As silence overtook them while he contemplated what had just unfolded the atmosphere quickly became awkward. The pressure of countless eyes bearing down on the pair certainly didn't help.
"Hi, I'm [Y/N] I make jokes when I'm uncomfortable." [Y/N] reached her hand out to Harry in greeting to break the silence between them.
Stunned but rather amused a slight chuckle rolled from the back of Harrys throat while he reached, shaking the outstretched hand.
"Why did you-"
"Save your ass?"
"Yeah."
"Can't let you hold all the attention now can we?' [Y/N] smiled as she placed her hands in her pockets before her smile faded completely. With a quick glance around the square to ensure they were far enough from being within ear shot of anyone over hearing their conversation she continued in a whisper, "Look, I'm a friend of...someone's...who's in your little 'club'. I know what you're doing and I fully support it. So when I heard her talking about your suspension I-I couldn't let that happen."
Harry, yet again, was at a loss as her words clouded his brain. She knew? Who told her? A Slytherin supported him? The swirling of questions made him dizzy and soon found himself feeling very uncomfortable in this situation.
She was so different from any other Slytherin he'd met, she seemed kind and there was something relaxing about being in her presence. Something familiar in the warmth of her smile. The effect she had on him was odd to say the least as he were unable to form a single coherent sentence, left but a stuttering awkward mess.
"You a-you may very well be the first Slytherin to ever get a detention from her." [Y/N] laughed at his comment. Thankful for his ability to restore the light-hearted atmosphere. The two stood staring gleefully between one another for a moment. Perhaps a moment too long...
Harry cleared his throat, running a hand through the soft curls of his untamed hair. "Well I'd-a better get-get going. Ron and Hermione are waiting for me. It's where I was heading before I-I mean you attacked Malfoys cronies." He smiled.
"Yeah, no, of course. I'm sorry to hold you." She spoke sincerely. "Thanks again, if you ever need anything I really owe you." He began walking backwards from her. She nodded in reply before turning to walk back to her friend group when...
"[Y/N]!" Harry was sprinting back towards her. "About that friend of yours, next time they-they're ya know. Tag along. Won't you?" His vivid green eyes flickered frantically between her [E/C] ones. A bright smile spread across her features, "yeah? Okay, absolutely!" "Great! I'll see you there then" Harry had been a bit taken back as she accepted but shock quickly subsidised for something else entirely. Excitement? His heart was fluttering in anticipation as he ran off, a giddy smile on his lips.
Just wait until Ron and Hermione hear about this...
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giorno-plays-piano · 4 years
Text
You were all I wanted Part 3
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Pairing: mob!Peter Parker x plus-sized!Reader
Warnings: yandere, obsession, swearing, human trafficking, mentions of non-con, minor character’s death.
Words: 1600.
Summary: You are bought by the head of Stark crime family for a kid he cares about.
Part 1
Part 2
P.S. Peter is an adult!
This chapter turned out to be shorter, but it's still pretty eventful. Hope you're going to like it <3
___________
"But what... what if he won't like me? What if he'll take me away?" You sobbed, panic taking over you as you imagined Tony Stark pressing a gun to your forehead.
"No, he'd never do that." Peter left a little kiss behind your ear. "Mr. Stark doesn't take the gifts he's made back. You don't have to be afraid of that."
You sniffed at his words. That's what you were now. A gift. A possession. A pet whose job was keeping its master happy. You had to be grateful you were given to someone like Peter, at least. You didn't know whether he would always treat you kindly, but as of now he had never threatened to hurt you. You could only pray for him to fancy you so he wouldn't throw you away like some garbage - apparently, Tony Stark treated his women exactly like that.
"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have brought it up in the first place. Of course, you got upset." Peter cuddled with you some more, but you weren't sure whether he was being sincere. Wasn't he sending you a clear message?
Don't go against me or you'll end just like her.
"Oh, I have an idea. Let's go out! Do you wanna see the movie or something?"
You did your best to wipe away your tears and stared at the boy, perplexed. "What?"
"We have a nice little cinema not far from here. We could go right now, just let me check what they've having today."
"But didn't you say I can't leave this place?"
"I meant without me." He showed you the same smug smirk Stark was wearing all the time, and you lowered your gaze to Peter's chest instead. "With me close you can go wherever you want to."
Funny thing to say. In thruth, you could go wherever he wanted to take you.
"Wow, they're having Beyond Darkness in 30 min! We gotta go, you'll loooove this."
"Sure."
In five minutes you were already hurrying after Peter and trying to look nowhere but your shoes. Regardless of what was there in Stark's Tower, you didn't want to see it, not even mentioning all those guys with guns scattered across the building. Peter was saying his hello to each and every one of them as if he were some mafia's social butterfly.
Whatever. You knew Peter was Tony's favorite not because he had a pretty face. You had never particularly asked what his role in all this was, but it was obviously something way bigger than running errands for the gang. Maybe it was better to never figure it out.
"Hey girl, wanna have fun?" Somebody to your left asked you, and you flinched involuntarily, keeping your head low.
Peter stopped in the very same second and sent the stranger a hard look.
"Mike, you offer my girl drugs one more time and I'm gonna shoot your cute little brother in the leg, you hear me?"
You raised your eyes to Peter's smiling face and regretted it immediately. There was something so dark in his gaze you wanted to turn around and run until you were back to your room, hiding somewhere in the corner.
"Shit! Sorry, Spidey!" The guy's high-pitched voice sounded frightened. "Didn't know you got a girl!"
"Yeah, yeah, see you later, we're kind of busy now." Peter grabbed your hand and pulled you away, heading to the exit. "I forgot to mention before that we don't do drugs. At all. They're good for business, but not for us, ok, Baby?"
"Yes, Peter." You answered and kept chewing your lips, thinking of all the things he had just said. You suspected him to be more ruthless when you weren't around, but never to such extent. How damn scary was real Peter Parker?
"And don't worry, I'd never shoot his brother in whatever part of his body." The boy said it like it was something obvious and you didn't even need to pay attention to it.
Why then did that guy look completely horrified?
When you had finally stepped outside and felt the wind playing with your hair you were ready to cry. Just walking out of the Tower was a fucking torture.
It was already dark, and you pulled the zipper on your pretty blue jacket up, going almost shoulder to shoulder with Peter. Normally you'd be at least a little scared to walk the streets of a big city at night, but the guy your mother had warned you about was already holding your hand.
The place the boy brought you to was truly small but cozy with nice vintage red seats, the delicious smell of caramel popcorn spreading everywhere. It turned out that the movie was something in between Star Wars and Star Trek, which wasn't surprising because Peter was a sucker for anything related to sci-fi. Anyway, it wasn't bad and you actually enjoyed watching it. The movie helped you to keep your mind off your earlier encounter with the drug trafficker and the words Peter said.
The only way to live like that and stay sane was to turn a blind eye to anything that happened around, you thought. It was cowardly and revolting, but what could you do against one of the most, if not the most, dangerous gangs in New York? Surely, even if by some miracle you could flee the Tower and go to police, would they really be willing to help you? No, they would return you to Mr. Stark. You were a hundred percent sure he got it covered.
"Are you feeling tired, Baby?"
You snapped out of your thoughts and looked at Peter who smiled at you so lovingly it could make any girl cry.
"Just a little bit."
"Want me to give you a massage when we gonna get home?" His expression quickly turned devious, and he winked at you.
Yeah, great, now you'd have him fucking you before your knees were giving out. The kid had such stamina he could be an Olympic athlete, no less.
"Aw, I love when you blush like that." Chuckling, he put his arm around your shoulders and inched closer to give you a quick peck on the lips. You forced youself to enjoy his little signs of affection and start thinking you ought to be thankful he wasn't into heavy BDSM practices or something like that.
While you two were kissing again, you heard someone's loud footsteps as if this person just jumped out of the corner, and then there was a hateful outburst, "Stay were you are. Your wallets, quick!"
You froze, your hands getting cold as you stared at the face of a guy standing in front of you with a knife in his hands. He was clearly unstable, sick - you could see the dark circles around his eyes, the unhealthy color of his skin, and his greasy hair sticking to his forehead. You didn't know what was wrong with him, but he was twice bigger than Peter. The guy would probably have no problem with slicing both him and you into pieces if you didn't comply.
"I said g-"
"You gotta be fucking kidding me." Peter let out a frustrated sigh before you heard the loud sound of the gun firing.
There was a little black hole in the guy's chest, blood seeping through his dirty white t-shirt and coloring it in a beautiful deep ruby color. You could see the confusion in the eyes of the stranger, his mouth half-open. Slowly, he went down before his legs gave out and he landed at the ground with a loud thud. He didn't move after that.
"Come on, attacking a couple of high shoolers? You're such a psycho, man. Who were you gonna go after us? Kids?" Peter rolled his eyes and hid the gun under his bomber, turning away from the man he murdered and shouting to someone behind him. "It's ok, people! It's just me, your friendly neighborhood Spider-Man! Calm down, go home, it's late!"
You were still staring at the large pool of blood spreading beneath the body of a stranger - lack of light made it look like it was an odd black liquid. Before you could take your eyes elsewhere, you felt bile quickly going up your throat and vomitted, moving to lean your hand on the wall of a building. He killed him. Peter killed him. You didn't even see him pulling out the gun.
"Oh Baby, I'm so sorry." The boy gently held back your hair when you threw up again, feeling scared, disgusted, feverish and cold at the same time. "That's why I don't like drugs and what they do to people. That shithead lost his mind, you see? No sane guy would ever jump on me or my girl like that."
Despite him being so tender, you couldn't even turn your head to look at him as you started shaking from his touch.
You kept emptying your stomach a few more minutes before Peter softly wiped your mouth with his handkerchief and took your arm, walking you back to the Tower and saying all those unnecessary things about how terrible some people are and how everyone has to take care in the dangerous world they're living in. You didn't hear half of that, but you cared little for his chattering.
Peter had shot the man without showing even the slightest regret. He'd shoot you the same way if you ever turned against him - he was Stark's favourite, after all.
__________
Tags: @finleyjayne @alexakeyloveloki  ​@helenaeisenhower @villanellevi @hurricanerin @void-hoechlin @abyssaint @msruchita @opheliadawnwalker3
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Text
Mommy Dearest, Part 1
"What if Leonardo was already married when he met Patience?"
****
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Francesca ironed her husband's white dress shirt, carefully smoothing out the wrinkles. He was a dapper, handsome man and she wanted him to look perfect. Nothing less would do.
A distant cry made her look up and out the living room window. Her boys were carousing in their roomy green yard. Chris was trying to yank his brother down, fingers entangled in his black hair.
"Bambini!" She called out in warning, but they still tussled, and didn't separate until they heard the engine of their father's black car as he pulled into the garage.
The kids nearly stumbled over themselves, shouting joyously and running in through the back door as the front door opened. Her husband put down his suitcase, picked up Chris and swung him around. "You're being a good boy for your mama?"
As he passed, Leonardo brushed a soft, affectionate kiss on the nape of Francesca's neck. "How is our little Fiorella?"
"Sleeping. Finally." She smiled prettily and tucked a strand of her long, thick black hair behind her ear.
"We're having pasta e fagiole for dinner. No, don't get up. I'll make it. You've been busy all day, deserve a break."
Sometimes Francesca wondered what he did out all day. He said he was managing his father's businesses, but Francesca was from Sicily. And she knew what kind of a man Silvio had been. So sometimes, as she fed the baby or did the laundry, her mind wandered, and she wondered.
But watching her husband's back, head bent and light shining off his beautiful golden curls as he tilted his head to listen to his son's chatter...
She wasn't sure why she would even want to.
***
Patience flexed her fists. In. Out. In. Out.
Fifteen minutes.
Michael had fifteen minutes to plant the wire.
Borghese was lingering by an oak tree, by Central Park. He was carefully watching something in the distance in the grove of trees that surrounded them.
Patience stomped up, gripped his leather-clad coat and turned him around.
"You better LISTEN to me," she spat in his face. "I know what you're doing. You fucking criminal. You can hire as many fancy lawyers as you like--"
His eyes were clear blue and opaque as the day she had stormed up on the courthouse steps and screamed at him. "Ssh," he said, voice a hush. His pupils focused on hers, fixed in a terrifyingly intense way. He pressed a finger to her lips just as a dirty-faced toddler stumbled out of the sandbox and latched on her leg.
"Leonardo, cosa non va?" Chirped a pretty voice. A dainty dark-haired woman was walking towards them, holding the hand of a little boy.
Patience stood there, bare in front of his devouring eyes, the warmth of a child against her leg.
"I--I'm sorry," she stammered, picking up the baby girl and clumsily cradling into her shoulder. "I never meant--"
The woman--Mrs. Borghese--regarding her hesitantly. "Who are you?"
The baby kicked at her chest and babbled. Patience looked down. "I'm sorry. I thought you were--" alone "someone else. What a beautiful girl you have."
"Her name is Fiorella," said Borghese softly, taking his daughter from her arms. "You are good with children. Do you have any of your own?"
His gaze was making her tremble. "No," she said quickly, under the disturbing eyes of Borghese and the more confused ones of his wife. "I need--I need to go now." Michael should have had plenty of time to plant the wire. Plenty. She hurried away, hearing Mrs. Borghese erupt in a chattering of Sicilian behind her. Borghese himself did not answer. He was silent, and the silence echoed behind her, and it disturbed her more anything in her life.
***
Patience stumbled backwards, her torn ankle wrenching in pain. "You disgusting murderer," she spat. "You--you let me go r-right now, I have friends, friends in high places."
"No one's going to look for you, Pazienza, and you know it." He was calmly taking off his jacket.
She cast a desperate look outside the window. They were in an apartment--high up, too high up for her to jump out the window. 
"You're a married father, Leonardo BORGHESE! You have a god damn family and you're kidnapping young women! I feel sorry for your wife, I really do, unless that whore is in on it with you."
He didn't seem to be particularly bothered by her spat threats, even when she called his wife a whore. "She's a good wife. That's all she is."
For some reason, that infuriated her father. "Two sons. They're old enough to know what their father gets up to. And I pity your daughter."
That seemed to irritate him. "Lie down and take your dress off."
She spat in his face, and he slapped her without his face twitching or changing. "Oh, dolcezza. You're, as they say, a tough nut to crack."
***
Francesca could not get the worry out from her mind.
"I had the ball!"
"No, I had it!"
Christoforo and Giuseppe. Chris and Johnny. Different as night and day. Both had their mother's thick, dark hair and father's elegant features, but Johnny was loud and rambunctious, his brother quiet and thoughtful. Chris had always been her favorite. He always helped his mama in the kitchen and looking after his baby sister, Fiorella.
"I'm off, my darling," Leo said to her as he shrugged on his dress jacket. He looked so handsome with his hair slicked back, those golden curls teased straight. Where was he going? Why was he dressing up?
"You be careful, dear," Francesca murmured, kissing Leonardo on the cheek. Instead of turning and kissing her back, he simply smiled warmly at her and left through the front door.
As he left, and as she saw him turn, his neck shifted, and Francesca saw a faint bruise on his nape. One that looked like a…
Hickey.
***
A hickey.
Francesca agonized and mulled and worried. The thought festered and nibbled at her even as she fed her baby.
"Mama, Johnny won't let me have the football," whined Chris, who instead of fighting his brother, had come to her. Francesca barely spared him a glance. "You sort it out with him then."
Francesca was from Sicily. She knew what her husband was involved with. He was a good husband--she wanted for nothing. He took her along on his galas, made love to her, bought her jewelry, adored their children. Even if their marriage had been arranged, she had dared to think he loved her.
Until now.
She knew that men--especially men as powerful as Leonardo--liked to have mistresses. It was natural. However much he had spoiled her, he was a man.
But it didn't stop worrying her.
She had been a good wife, had she not? Borne sons, raised them, not complained? What had she done wrong?
The keys to his other houses hung on the rungs by the door. She had not touched them before now.
***
The first house was still shuttered, and there were dead leaves in the driveway. It had not been inhabited for some time.
Francesca almost decided to just go home, but decided to check the apartment building he rented. After that, she decided, she would go home.
The inside of the lobby was cold and quiet, marble floors clicking under her heels. She checked her key. Room 2103.
She took the elevator, nervously worrying if someone should spot her, one of her husbands' "friends". Francesca had never done this before--but she had never mistrusted him like this before.
The silence of the hall rang in her ears. It looked new. Artificial. Like no one lived behind any of the lacquered doors.
She twisted the key into 2103, and slowly pushed it open. The onside stunned her--it was a wreck. It looked like a bunch of hoodlums had come through and trashed it. As she stepped onto the mussed rug, she heard a distant gasp and a moan.
Her heart went into overdrive. She crossed the room in one stride, yanked open the bedroom door, and saw her worst nightmare
Inside the bedroom, on a bed with the sheets crumpled and tossed over the edge, Leonardo, her… her… husband was lying on top of what looked like a young girl, his body between her thighs.
As soon as the door swung open, Leonardo whipped around onto his back, next to the girl, and his eyes displayed a wild panic before they focused on her and recognized her. "Chicca. I can--"
He had not called her Chicca since they had courted. Somehow, that detail made her fury rise to neverending heights. "You disgusting disgrace!" Francesca screamed, tears streaming down her face. Ten years of marriage were slipping down a black hole in front of her horrified eyes.
The girl had rolled over onto the floor, covering her small breasts with the sheet. She had to be in her teens at the very least, early teens if Francesca was being truthful. She felt the disgust roil in her belly.
"Francesca," said Leonardo finally, and he stepped towards her, curving his hand over her tear-stained cheek. For a moment they were back in Sicily again, in Scafapani, at their first meeting in the cathedral, him with his hair in rebellious curls framing his gentle face, her hiding behind her scarf to shield her beet red flush. But he had laughed and taken her hand and kissed it anyway.
And his hand drifted down to her neck.
***
Patience ran out of the bedroom, clutching the sheet around her like a cape, and burst through the front door. She heard Borghese's wife wailing behind her, calling him mixed insults in English and Italian. When she came to the elevator, her high, despairing voice stopped as quickly as it began.
Cut off. Like a pig's throat slit, or a goose's neck strangled.
Tears beaded in her eyes as the silver doors of the elevator opened. When they klinged on the first floor, Patience ran out of the building, never looking back.
***
Chris knew there was something wrong as soon as his father called upstairs. There was a stern, sorrowful edge to his voice. "Giuseppe. Christoforo. Come down here. Your father wants to talk to you."
"I didn't do it, dad!" Johnny protested immediately as their father sat them down in the sitting room. Dad was holding baby Fiorella on his lap.
Chris felt the chill rest over his shoulders before he started speaking. He knew it was more enormous than that.
"You didn't do anything, Johnny. It's about your mother."
"What about mama? Is… is she all right?"
"Mama isn't coming back. She… had an accident."
There was a pause, and Johnny began to howl loudly. Chris's eyes welled with tears, but he didn't speak. All he could do was stare. His brain refused to believe it.
With Johnny's wails, Fiorella began to cry too, and Dad rocked her in his arms, getting up. "I'm so sorry, my darlings. I'm so sorry." He took them both in his arms, and Chris finally let himself weep, face pressed into the breast of his father's suit.
"What are we gonna do?" Sobbed Johnny when his father let go. "What are we gonna do without Mama?"
"Hush now." He gently stroked his son's head, gentle fingers threading their way through his thick dark hair. "Things will be back to normal soon. You won't be without a mother for long."
"Whaddyou mean?" Sniffed Chris. His father smiled a strange, secret smile and looked down at his daughter in his arms, bouncing her.
"There is someone I want you to meet. And I promise you… you are going to just adore her."
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weakeninghope · 6 years
Text
Kiss me (whispering words of love) chapter 2
Pairing: Ash Lynx/Eiji Okumura
Rating: Teen
AO3 link here
Summary: Eiji and Ash meet to talk about Eiji's pictures and end up talking about everything but Eiji's pictures.Or: their first "date-not-a-date"
Notes: "It'll be up this week" I said, replying a comment todayhahahello I'm back! your local authour is way too anxious and is in love with this project and wants to write as much as possible about it! I'm really excited about sharing it with you guys and I really want to thank you for your support in last chapter, I'm really glad you like this idea <3 and stay tuned, there next open mic night is next chapter! We'll have another round of Sing vs The Stool, make your bets.See you next chapter <3Song referenced is Light your heart up by Aimee Blackschleger! (or Mako's theme from Kill la Kill) I think it really suits Eiji
new chapter under the cut!
Despite having come home late that night -for a good reason though- Eiji woke up at 8AM. He had been taking a lot of naps frequently, going to sleep at 4AM and waking up at noon; but that time he woke up instantly, Ash being the first thing in his mind. That night, he dreamed about his song. He dreamed about the two of them, together, holding each other in a secret place only they knew about.
Get a grip on yourself, Eiji.
Has he texted me yet? Eiji thought as he grabbed his phone from the nightstand, since he was still in the bed.
He hadn't. The last message was from Eiji himself, a reply to Ash's “see you tomorrow at 5PM, Mr.Photographer, don't forget the camera ;)”. It took Eiji a few minutes to prepare himself to write an answer. He had imagined Ash winking and his mind had crashed like his old computer would do every time he wanted to use it. In the end, he settled for a “I sure won't, Mr Fancy Singer.”.
Seconds after hitting the “send” button Eiji had already felt embarrassed. Was that too bold? Ash hadn't answered what if he was angry or if that was a joke and he wasn't interested in meeting Eiji at all? What if-
Ibe's coughs broke the turmoil in Eiji's mind. He was still pretty sick and even though he slept well through the night, he woke up a few times, feeling congested and with a runny nose. Eiji didn't mind taking care of him but the other way around; he liked being useful to his boss and most importantly, his friend.
Ibe had helped him to cope with his feelings. Ibe brought him there.
It was thanks to Ibe that he was going to have a d- to meet with Ash that afternoon.
“Ei-chan, I see you're up.” Ibe-san said in between a few dry coughs. “How was yesterday night?”
“It was nice” Eiji said as he got out of bed, stretched his arms and then yawned a little. “But we can talk about it later, I'll change your towel for now and make breakfast, you just rest, okay?” Eiji gently told his boss as he approached him and replaced the old towel with a new, fresh one. The cool feeling of the towel would make Ibe-san's burning forehead feel better.
“I'd like to see the pictures you've taken.” Ibe-san said, gently smiling at Eiji. A snort escaped the Japanese's lips when he remembered Cain the pop-star, the shorty rivaling a stool, the glaring snake and...
Ash.
He blushed when he came to his mind. He looked at the time. 8:30 in the morning. Still no response.
“What's so funny?”
“Nothing, nothing. It was just a particularly special night. I'll tell you when you're better, now rest.”
After that, Ibe-san complied and didn't say anything else as Eiji went to the kitchen to start preparing some Japanase food they both loved for breakfast. He decided to stick with some natto, but he also cooked a porridge for Ibe-san to eat. He made extra natto for himself, he loved it way too much, and it was healthier than all the greasy American food they sold there.
The morning went by slowly for Eiji, since he was checking the phone every 5 minutes to see if Ash had replied, even if he had the sound on and would notice if someone talked to him anyway.
Until a few hours later, when Eiji was getting ready to cook lunch, he heard the phone.
It was a text from Ash.
Eiji's heart was beating fast in his chest, and it did even more when he read the text.
“Sorry, I crashed into the bed and I've just woken up. See you in a few hours.” it said. Eiji exhaled a sigh of relief. He wasn't angry after all, his anxiety disappeared with one simple text.
Eiji carefully typed his reply “At least you're up now, don't be late!! :D” Eiji wondered if the emoji was too stupid but he would come off as rude or too demanding without it, he just hoped for Ash not to think something weird-
“I certainly won't” was Ash's replying text.
Why was he so smooth even by text? How was Eiji supposed to compete with that?
Never mind. He had to make lunch, to eat, to dress up and to mentally prepare himself about meeting Ash. He felt like a middle-schooler thinking about their first crush.
Okay maybe when he met Ash and when he heard him the world stopped and his heart was beating fast and for a few seconds he couldn't even take a picture because he wanted this memory to be his and his alone and wanted to capture it with his eyes instead of using the camera and-
Okay, he totally had a crush on Ash, but that was okay, people have crushes, it doesn't have to be mutual.
But what if it was mutual?
Eiji combusted again, and time flied until he had to dress himself up for the meeting. He told Ibe-san he was off to show some pictures to one of the singers (which was half true, but he hoped that Ash said that as an excuse to meet him).then grabbed the camera and left the apartment, the cafe was around the corner so he was sure he wouldn't be late.
The Japanese dressed himself up as he usually did, nothing fancy, he didn't want a lit sign in his forehead saying “I'm trying to impress my crush”, but he dressed up pretty okay so he figured out nothing would happen if he didn't choose any special clothing.
He regretted his choices later when he saw Ash. When Eiji arrived, the blond was already there. Ash was sitting at the background of the establishment, and there were only 4 people, so they were pretty much alone. He was wearing a plaid, green shirt which was a little bit oversized, but you could see his lean, noticeable collarbones, a pair of slightly ripped jeans and red Converse-like shoes.
There he was, dressed up like a street kid and looking handsome as hell.
Ash made a sign with his hand as Eiji got closer to the table and then he said “Here, Eiji.” soothingly.
Wait. How did he even know his name?
“Hello, singer who apparently knows my name even though I didn't tell you.” Eiji replied.
“Shorter told me. We're friends, in fact, I sang yesterday because he was pretty insistent about my good singing voice.”
“Well, he is right” More than right
“So you liked my performance?” Ash asked in a sing-song tone. “You asked me that yesterday.” Eiji said, but he didn't mind answering Ash's question again because even if asked a million times, he would always say the same “I loved it.”
“That's good to know.” Ash said “But you didn't throw money in the hat” Ash finished in a fake retort.
Shoot! The hat! In those kind of events, there's always this “pass the hat” thing where you throw donations for the singers if you liked their performance, but Eiji was way too distracted and ended up forgetting about it...
“You're right, I'm so sorry! I was so distracted with taking the pictures that the idea didn't even cross my mind... I can make it up to you by treating you to what you want to drink or eat here, though.” Eiji apologized.
“Well, if you insist, Eiji.” Eiji gulped at how his name sounded in Ash's voice “I won't refuse your offer” He said.
“So what brought you here?” He continued.
“Well... I don't know if Shorter told you, but my boss is sick and I came here in his stead to take the job. Even though I didn't manage it as I thought I would. The kid battling a stool was... beyond my expectations” A muffled laughter accompanied Eiji's response.
“Oh, you mean Sing. It's the first time this place holds this kind of event but every time he comes here with his friends someone has to hold him from kicking the stools near the counter, I figured out this would happen.” Ash explained. God, his voice was amazing, it drew Eiji in, he couldn't stop listening, he couldn't stop staring at his deep, green eyes. He was thoroughly delighted.
“Like what you see?” Ash mockingly asked “Since you staring so much”
“Ah! Sorry, I spaced out hearing you talk... I really like your voice.” Oops. That slipped.
“You like it but you don't give a poor singer like me some money to pay for his expenses, so mean, Eiji...” Ash pouted.  Even though Eiji knew it was a joke, Ash's pout was something he wanted to take a picture of. And he had the camera in his bag. God, that was so tempting.
“I told you I forgot!” Eiji half shouted, jockingly.
“Right, right. I know. So why photography?”
Ash looked genuinely interested about Eiji's job and the reasons behind it and Eiji couldn't believe himself. The conversation paused when Shorter came to take note of their orders; Ash ordered a cappuccino and Eiji ordered a green tea. Before leaving, Shorter gave Ash a pat on the back and whispered something to Ash's ear, so Eiji couldn't hear it, and Ash clicked his tongue.
“What was it?” Eiji asked “Do you have to talk to him about something important?” He asked, in spite of Shorter being in the counter already.
“Nah, he was just being a dick. Now tell me.” Ash insisted, a glint of excitement in his beautiful green eyes.
“I used to be a pole-vaulter in Japan but I got injured and everything was over in a second, so my boss took me here with him months ago because he saw I was feeling down. In fact, I got diagnosed with clinical depression after my injury. Pole-vaulting was the only thing I liked, I devoted my life to it, it was the only thing I was useful at and when I was pole-vaulting I felt... like I was flying.” Eiji rambled. Crap! What if Ash got bored?
“I see. I envy you if you know how to fly.”
“I don't anymore. I envy you because you made me fly with your voice. You got rid of my broken wings and I think... I'm stronger now” Eiji gently said. He trusted what he was saying. He meant it. He really meant it and would say it a million times if Ash needed to hear it.
“This wings thing sounds like a song line”
“How did you know it? It isn't even popular. Yes, it's from a song called Light your heart up, it cheered me up a lot when I felt down.”
“You know what?” They paused for a second, Shorter came with their orders and since they were too hot to drink, they continued their little talk “I completely understand what you feel. But I never had wings in the first place. I was born in a cage. My mother left when I was born, my father neglected both myself and my older brother, so when he turned 18, I began living with him. He's a novelist, but he's not having much luck right now with finding an editor so he pretty much does odd jobs, we live in a crappy apartment and I thought I could earn so money if I followed Shorter's idea. I rarely do what Shorter's advises me to, since inside his bald head -I know it surprised you, but yes, he's bald, he shaved his head- there's a lot of ridiculous ideas. But this one was good” Ash explained as one of his hands slipped across the table to clasp Eiji's. “Since I met you.”
Since I met you. Since I met you.
Eiji was left agape, but he intertwined his fingers with Ash's, and at that moment, he decided he wanted to desperately know more about him, he decided that he wanted to listen to his voice without this sad shift in it when he was talking about his past. He had suffered enough already.
“It must have been tough.”
“It was. It is. But I can't do much about it.”
“Hey, can I ask you something?”
“Sure, go ahead”
“Is your real name Ash Lynx?”
“Oh, no. It's a nickname, I actually want to become a singer. I like music, I listen to almost every genre, I like the feeling it conveys and how it makes people feel.” Ash stated with a soft smile. His love for music could be perceived in what Eiji decided was a melody by itself.
“Before you ask me about it” Ash said “It's Aslan. Aslan Jade Callenreese.”
“It sounds like a meaningful name. I like it.”
“Aslan is for “day-break”, it means so in Hebrew, since I was born at dawn. Jade is for the color of my eyes. Nothing special” Ash deadpaned.
“It is more special than Eiji Okumura.” Eiji said, and he added something, feeling bold and rubbing his thumb over Ash- Aslan's hand “And it does you justice, since you're so bright.” However, Eiji couldn't contain the soft blush that appeared in his cheeks, so he turned his head to aside for the other boy not to notice.
“Oh” Aslan raised an eyebrow “Do I light your heart up?” He teasingly asked
“The important question here is if you want me to do so- of if I light yours up” Eiji let go. He didn't know if he wanted an answer. The possibility of a yes set his cheeks ablaze and his heart could be able to beat a mile a minute but the possibility of a no made him feel like something wasn't working; that his wings were, indeed, broken.
“Hey, I'm an amateur singer, not a lightning technician” Ash claimed with a laugh. Another soft sound Eiji would treasure forever.
“Now that you say so, I really worried about your sound technician yesterday, I thought the stool could have hit him”
“Yeah, we all thought so. Shorter too. He started calling him Bones since that moment; Shorter gives nicknames to everyone, you're probably the next in line.” Ash chided while throwing a menacing-not-menacing glare to Shorter, who didn't seem to notice.
“I see.”
“Eiji-”
Ash was interrupted by the loud ring of Eiji's phone. Carefully, he took it out of his bag and answered Ibe-san's phone call. Apparently they had ran out of meds and his fever had gotten a little bit worse and the cafe was already closing and-
Good lord for how many hours had they been talking? It seemed like 5 minutes! They had spent the whole afternoon talking and he discovered a lot of interesting facts about the boy; he was two years younger and was afraid of pumpkins -as ridiculous as it sounded- but that time 5 minutes-likeish was the best time of his last years even though he felt he didn't deserve such a talented angel because Eiji was mediocre and his photos weren't even cool-
“Ei-chan?” He heard Ibe-san weakly ask from the other line of the phone. He had spaced out again. It happened with a lot of frequency, he tended to get lost in his thoughts, intrusive thoughts mostly when something good was happening to him.
Snap out of it, Eiji. Blanca told you that the fact that you even make it out of bed every day is something to be proud of. There's always a path to keep walking on, and you're not alone this time.
“Yes, sorry. I'll be back in a second with what you asked me. Hang in there!” Eiji replied as he hung his phone in a rush.
When he was about to got up from the chair he noticed that he was still holding Aslan's hand and if he wanted to get up he had to let go.
Oh, he didn't want to lot go.
“Got to leave?” Aslan casually asked.
“Yeah. My boss's fever's gotten worse and I've got to go take care for him and Shorter's glaring at us like he wants to kick us out.”
“He's a jerk, don't mind it” Ash said as -unfortunately for Eiji- he let his hand go and got up.
“I'll walk you to the door”.
When they made it out of the cafe they were silent for a minute, neither nothing what to say or what to do. Everything had been so intense; Aslan really felt like Eiji had lit his heart up even if Eiji didn't know it, and Eiji felt so happy he could die.
Or maybe not, because he wanted to meet with Aslan again, so he talked to make up another excuse.
“In the end we spent all the time talking nonsense and I didn't show you the pictures I took of you. Want me to show them to you tomorrow?” Eiji shyly asked. Please say yes. Please say yes.
“Tomorrow is their day off” Aslan pointed at the cafe “But we can meet on Tuesday” He then told Eiji with a soft, gentle, warm smile, as warm as the sun in early autumn's day afternoon, even though they had spent the whole afternoon holed inside a cafe and it was pretty late at that moment.
“And we can keep texting” Eiji said. Ash eyed him curiously “That is, if you don't mind” Eiji said, lowering his head.
Suddenly, he felt Aslan's hand on his head, lifting it. Then his beautiful, soft hand, the ones which holded the mic with grace the night before, traveled around his face and ended up on his hand again.
“Your hand is warm, Eiji.” Aslan whispered. And okay, text me when you get home, so I know you got home safely” He said with a smirk even though he knew Eiji was, in fact, two years older than him and that he lived literally five minutes away from where they were standing.
“Fine, I will.”
And then he let Aslan's hand- he kept calling him Ash in his mind, but he hoped that he can start getting to know the person behind his singing, which was already amazing. He wondered if Aslan composed songs of his own, too.
After a quick walk, Eiji got home, and after a long hour of nursing Ibe-san and watching TV without any text message from Aslan, he received a message from him:
“We left a question unanswered. You light my heart up. Do I light yours?”
Eiji screamed.
Of fucking course the answer was the biggest yes in his entire life.
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