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Chapter Text

Technically, Jiang Cheng's first pokemon is a gift from his father. 

A-jie and he had received theirs at the same time, shortly after his fifth birthday. By then it was apparent that Yanli-jie's cultivation would never be strong, and neither would her body, or she may have received a pokemon to train with earlier, but such things were not meant to be. 

At five years old Jiang Cheng's father filled his entire sky. A thousand feet tall and the steady rock around which Lotus Pier anchored itself, and Lotus Pier was the center of the whole world. 

Jiang Cheng was nearly vibrating with excitement as his father lead the two of them down the private dock in the family quarters, nodded eagerly as he was told again of the importance of being given his first pokemon, the responsibility, the honor. Promised solemnly to care for and respect his new partner. Held his breath in anticipation as his father told them to close their eyes, ears straining at the sound of splashing as he heard his father pull something from the lotus pond, and was given permission to open his eyes to reveal--

To reveal--

...a pair of stupid fish flopping on the pier. 

He didn't yet know the names of many pokemon, but he knew enough to recognize that red-gold scales and whiskers more often went into cook-pots than featured on battle teams. 

At least his new pokemon was a pretty color; his sister's fish was brown and dull as the sun-baked wood of the pier.

Jiang Cheng clutched the pokeball in both of his hands and tried to hide his disappointment. A-Jie, being older and absolutely perfect even then, did much better than he did.

"Thank you for the gift, A-die," she said, bowing. The very picture of filial piety. "I will do my best to care for him."

Jiang Cheng rushed to thank him as well- mortified at insulting his father's gift-- But his father had only looked down at his little face trying so hard not to pout and laughed heartily. 

Jiang Fengmian had wrapped one strong arm around each of them and beckoned them forward.

"He may not look like much now," his father told him, "but he is from a strong line, and shows auspicious traits himself."

Jiang Cheng was still skeptical. A-Jie was already petting at the blue frills on her own fish's back and smiling a little.  Jiang Fengmian had only laughed indulgently again. He picked up the still sadly wiggling magikarp and guided Jiang Cheng's hands to its sides, showing him how to hold it and guiding him to release it in the family lotus pool, and then did the same with A-Jie.

"It's not just anyone who can raise a magikarp, or a feebas," he told them, one large hand on Jiang Cheng's shoulder as the three of them watched the two fish pokemon swim. "It requires patience and diligent effort, just like forming a golden core. It is long, hard work, and the rewards seem far away, or impossible. 

"But every sect leader of Yunmeng Jiang has fought beside a Gyrados they personally raised," he told Jiang Cheng, his face serious, but his eyes kind. "And someday, if you teach him to be big and strong, you will too."

Jiang Cheng's forehead wrinkled in confusion. 

"Do you mean this little fish will one day grow up to be a Gyrados like A-Die's?" he asked. It did seem impossible. 

"Yes." 

And Jiang Cheng had given the tiny magikarp a second calculating look. And then nodded.

 And so his and magikarp's journey began. 

He'd eventually come around and come to love the stupid little floppy fucker. 

He'd whiled away many an afternoon and evening after his lessons sitting by the private family lotus pool, trailing his fingers on the surface of the water for magikarp to swim up and nibble. He practiced meditation there, and practiced sword forms with his training blade under magikarp's vacant gaze. He told the story of the goldfish who swam over the waterfall over and over, making up stories about adventures the goldfish and his boy went on, and the places they went and battles they fought together. Sometimes magikarp seemed to listen, coming to the surface and making little glub-blub sounds with its gasping mouth as it stared at him. 

Jiang Cheng didn't get the idea to teach him to jump until he was nearly nine. He'd race around the edges of the pond, shouting excitedly and encouraging magikarp to leap as high as he could until he'd stirred up Nidoran so much he was chasing his own shadow and Zidian and Clobbopus had fallen asleep in a heap from trying to keep up with their stubby little legs. But by the end of summer, Yanli's feebas had become a beautiful Milotic, a perfect compliment for his perfect sister, and magikarp could leap as high as the eaves of the house. But still, he didn't evolve. 

Years passed. Jiang Cheng whispered his secrets, and his fears, and his sorrows into that pool. He grew bigger, and taller, and magikarp grew too. Jiang Cheng looked at his reflection in the lotus pool and knew he was stronger, golden core thrumming where before it had been only a gentle hum.

But maybe he and magikarp were the same. They had come so far, and yet to look at them hardly anything had changed at all.

Still just a stupid little boy and a silly fish. 

Two days before his tenth birthday, two days before the ceremony where he would officially receive his courtesy name and spiritual sword, Jiang Cheng made his way down to magikarp's little lotus pond around sunset. He was tired from training and damp from getting pushed off the pier by Wei Wuxian again. He wasn't upset about it this time, though. Jiang Cheng wasn't the one who ended up with slimy pond algae shoved down the back of his robes. It had taken a drawn out wrestling match in the water to accomplish, though, and he was worn out from the exertion. 

It's why he didn't notice something was off as he approached magikarp's pool. He didn't register the puddles of displaced water, the strange silence that had fallen over the area, all the birds and frogs around Lotus Pier quiet or taken off elsewhere. 

Then the little lotus pool exploded.

At least that's what it seemed like. Water surged upward in a near vertical column, sending Jiang Cheng sprawling backward onto the wood of the pier. The impact of his head hitting the wood made stars swim in front of his eyes, the reflection of the sun's dying rays in the spray double blinding him as he fought to get his bearings. 

He didn't have time to wonder what happened. He didn't have time to react against attack. He didn't have time to do anything but register the shadow that had fallen over him and look up. And up. And up. 

Growling, the massive pokemon leaned out over the pier. Its coils spilled out of the lotus pond like too many noodles in a bowl. It loomed over him, mouth open and fangs nearly as long as his fingers. Blue and yellow scales shimmered in the sun. Jiang Cheng's mouth fell open. 

"Bàolǐlóng," Jiang Cheng whispered, looking up at the mighty water dragon, "Gyrados ."

Gyrados's tail flicked, sending a lotus pod accidentally flying across the dock without even seeming to notice. It lowered its head, eyeing Jiang Cheng suspiciously. 

Jiang Cheng forced himself to sit up, to move closer to the gigantic beast. He held out a cautious hand, terror thick in his throat, but refusing to break eye contact. 

As his hand got closer to the hard spiky plate on the pokemon's brow, Jiang Cheng fought not to think about how easy it would be for it to just lunge and rip--

All the texts he had read said that magikarp's mind was strongly affected by evolution, making gyrados volatile and often destructive. Jiang Cheng couldn't be sure Gyrados would remember him. Pokemon changed with evolution; he couldn't be sure Gyrados would accept him at all. He couldn't afford to show any weakness. Lotus Pier couldn't afford for Jiang Cheng to show any weakness. 

For the first time in his life, Jiang Cheng realized he was the first and perhaps only thing standing between Yunmeng Jiang and destruction. Strangely, the thought centered him. He was responsible for Lotus Pier and he would keep it safe-- even from something he had loved and raised for years. 

Gyrados rumbled. As the pounding panic began to fade from his ears, Jiang Cheng realized it sounded more like a… well, a purr than a growl. 

Then Gyrados leaned forward and carefully, so, so carefully, nibbled at his fingertips. 

Gyrados's head was roughly the size of Jiang Wanyin's entire body now. Its eyes were fierce instead of wide and vacant, but Jiang Cheng thought he recognized something familiar in its red-gold gaze. 

Despite the terror still quivering in his gut, Jiang Cheng began to laugh. 

Two days later, Jiang Wanyin threw the pokeball and lept from the dock, Sandu in hand. Gyrados materialized beneath him, letting out a deafening roar as his knees settled just behind the spiky ridge along his neck. 

"Let's go!"

And together they shot off across the water of the lake, the lotuses bobbling in the waves of their wake. 

As he and Gyrados lapped Lotus Pier for the third time, Wei Wuxian, his shidis and shimeis, and A-jie cheering and jumping up and down on the dock, Jiang Cheng caught sight of his mother. Her mouth was set in a severe line, but her eyes were proud. She gave him a nod, and the approval warmed him all the way through. 

He didn't even care at that moment that his father had already gone back inside. He didn't care that tomorrow Wei Wuxian would go back to being better than him at everything and that his mother would go back to being disappointed in him. 

Today he was Jiang Cheng, courtesy Wanyin, sect heir of Yunmeng Jiang, and he was on top of the world. 

Chapter Text

Wangji and his brother receive their vulpixes on their fifth birthdays, as is tradition among sect heirs of the Lan main family. Brother's is white and fluffy as fresh snow on the mountains. Lan Zahn's is copper, his ears and paws velvety soft as anything Wangji has ever felt. 

A year later, his mother is dead.

Wangji doesnt understand that yet, though. She is just gone. Her door does not open to him anymore. He is six years old and, with his elder's lectures on filial piety and righteous conduct ringing in his memory, he sits down and waits. Wang Xiang used his body to melt ice in order to catch his step-mother fish to eat. He can wait for his mother to be ready to see him. 

He sits in the snow outside her cottage and waits and waits. Vulpix crawls into his lap and he allows himself the comfort of petting his fur, but he does not take his eyes off the door. Uncle and Brother come and go, unable to convince him to accompany them. Wangji is waiting for his mother. 

What feels like hours later, Vulpix begins to shudder from the cold, and he recalls him into his pokeball. He's barely more than a baby still, and it wouldn't do for him to get sick from the cold. Wangji is responsible for Vulpix; what's more, he loves him and doesn't want him to suffer. Wangji closes his eyes, focusing on meditation to try to keep himself warm. 

A moment, an hour, an eternity later, a soft rustling sound wakes him from his stupor. In the snow in front of him sits a little blue swablu. It cocks its head at him, as if to ask, what are you doing here?

He doesn't respond, just lowers his eyes back to his knees. 

The swablu hops forward, leaning down until it can meet his eyes again. 

Wangji is waiting for his mother. He closes his eyes and waits. 

He can hear the swablu hopping and flapping its cloud-down wings around him, investigating his belt, the fabric of his outer robe, the jade charm hanging from his waist. Not trying to steal, like a murkrow might. Just curious little pecks and chirps. The occasional brush of displaced air from her wings.

She settles on his head, little bony feet pressing into his scalp right above where his guan sits. She folds her wings in, and the fluffy down covers his ears, long gone numb from the cold. They burn as they heat back up, insulated by her feathers. 

He probably looks like he's wearing a very odd mishapen hat. 

He probably looks ridiculous. 

Not dignified, as a Lan should. 

He can't bring himself to move. 

Once his ears have warmed enough to be painful again, he reaches up and moves her down to his lap with clumsy fingers. She lets him. She cuddles into his lap and lets him wrap his arms around her, lets him bury his numb fingers in her soft down until he can feel then again. His knees ache from kneeling so long. Her slow breaths press her back against his chest, a little warm weight against him. 

Once he feels sufficiently warmed up to move, he stands. Swablu only cuddles further into his arms, almost sticking her head into his armpit. He carries her home. It doesn't matter that he doesn't really remember at what point he officially caught her with a pokeball; she was already his. He was already hers.