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#but yeah the older one is the one whos chip got damaged and is stuck pumping them full of stimulants and hasnt slept in 3 months
arolesbianism · 1 month
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Y'know there already is such a nonexistent market for oni art in general so the fact that I wanna draw more au art is killing me. Like I draw for fun and don't need notes to be happy with a piece but also I need ppl to view my art and be curious and ask questions because while I may not desperately need approval I do desperately need excuses to gush abt the things I like
#rat rambles#oni posting#Im thinking abt the rabbit au clones again#in particular the two main nails clones I love them sm theyre so silly#we have guy shaking and crying while internally actually being rly relieved and guy smiling and laughing while being plagued by the Horrors#I should probably give them nicknames but idk what would work best#but yeah the older one is the one whos chip got damaged and is stuck pumping them full of stimulants and hasnt slept in 3 months#and the younger one has been spending the past three months spending day and night at gravitas working their ass off#it wasnt until they got hit by a rly intense wave of fatigue that they were finally pushed into actually going home to rest#at which point the older one was like yo whats up I didnt expect that to actually work lol#things are initially very chaotic after that since younger nails just found out a Lot and older nails didnt rly have a plan for this#they were basically just finishing up a project a past nails clone started since they had nothing better to do#at first it was because they were hoping it could maybe disable their own malfunctioning chip but as the days turned into weeks they#swiftly realized that even if it could disable their chip its probably already far too late for that to save them#and even if the months of no sleep didnt basically instantly take them out there would still be a half broken neural chip in their brain#which likely already had caused complications that they just havent noticed because of the everything else going on#so while they still finished up the project it became a much more half hearted ordeal that they honestly werent expecting to work#but evidently it did leading to the awkward experience of explaining to someone that they're a clone#younger nails hadnt necessarily suspected anything to that degree but they had noticed that smth was off#which is part of the reason they spent so much time working in an attempt to ignore it#so the revelation actually helped somw things click into place and while it wasnt good news by any means it was kind of a relief in a way#not in the sense that now they are in active danger of dying at any time but yknow#they both die eventually ofc but yknow at least they get to be povs of sorts#I mean not much they could do to do anything abt their situation even if one of them wasnt basically doomed to slowly die already
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steddielations · 11 months
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“Evening, sir.”
It’s the Harrington boy. Again.
“I told you, son, it’s Wayne,” he manages a smile, harder to do these days, like chipping it out of cement and dusting it off. But he gets it done.
Steve doesn’t have the Henderson boy with him today, that’s a first.
“Where’s the curly one?” He steps aside, letting Steve into the trailer door, more rickety than before. No money left to fix it after repairing the bulk of the earthquake damage.
“Dustin? He doesn’t wanna watch the game, and trust me, you don’t wanna listen to that kid complaining the whole time,” Steve walks by, sorta chuckling to himself, “I always miss the replay ‘cause he makes me change the channel to those D&D cartoons during the commercials, just like—”
He stops in front of the couch, looking over his shoulder at Wayne like he’s afraid he messed up somehow. Wayne noticed that look often from him, less and less, but still often. All that confidence he carries can drop on a dime, sorta reminded him of—
“Like Ed?”
“Yeah. Sorry.”
“S’alright. I don’t mind talking about him if you want,” Wayne manages another concrete smile, but he means it. Steve always waits for him to bring up Eddie first, like he doesn’t want to remind him if it ain’t on his mind, but Wayne likes to be reminded. It’s nice to feel like he’s not the only one missing him. “But the game was yesterday and y’know the cable’s out.”
“Yep, got it covered. I uh, I taped it,” Steve fishes a VHS tape from his back pocket. Fancy. Wayne would worry about him using that for his sake, but he has a feeling Steve’s folks aren’t around enough to notice.
“The Colts win?”
Steve flips the tape around, “Haven’t watched it, so we can bet on it if you’re feeling lucky.”
It doesn’t feel so dry and heavy when Wayne laughs a bit then, waving Steve to go ahead and start up the TV. He already caught the game on the radio, but he bets on the Colts anyway. Loser’s supposed to do the dishes after they scrounge together some soup, but Steve does them anyway.
Wayne would make a stink about it but he can tell Steve just wants to help, to feel like he’s helping. Same thing when the Henderson boy comes around to see him, wanting to hear all the stories, even the scary ones. So Wayne doesn’t mind letting Eddie’s friends feel like they’re helping him.
His nephew didn’t have many friends. Real, cover-your-six kinda friends. The boys he played his music with, they’ve come by a couple times, Wayne always liked Jeff despite the racket. That older fella that’s doing time now, Wayne wasn’t too fond of. And some of Eddie’s dungeon buddies he talked about were the only few.
Now, casual acquaintances? Anybody who didn’t have anywhere else to sit when he had an empty spot at his table? Sure, Eddie had those in spades.
His boy was good at that, putting on a good old show for his crowd, on a stage to keep his distance. That damn Al did him in good, never could trust easily, having his old man pop up and drag him into his mess before he took off again. And Eddie’s poor momma would’ve done right by him, if she hadn’t gotten sick so young.
Took Wayne a long time to get Eddie to depend on him, to trust this was his place to stay and he didn’t have to earn it, Wayne wasn’t just filling his head to scheme something out of him.
Love ain’t a transaction that way. He wasn’t ever any good at saying it, but he tried to show Eddie the best he could.
His boy though, always carried a debt with him. Like he owed Wayne something for taking him in, had to graduate quick and make it outta here, do something with the better life he gave him. Al dug him in so deep, Eddie stayed roped into whatever his latest scheme was (the cars, the dealing, the gambling, thank God Eddie wasn’t there when the goddamn robbery went wrong, 25 to life) like maybe it’d be enough to keep him from running off again.
The odds have never been in favor of people like them, poor folk in a town that’s stuck in its ways, where everybody’s just like their old man, but Al made his choices and Wayne made his. Rest their mother’s soul, she did her best. Part of Wayne was relieved when Al got locked up, at least Wayne had a better chance of keeping Eddie from going down the same path, try to raise him right.
Being a Munson wasn’t a crime. He didn’t owe a darn thing to anybody. Eddie could graduate at his own pace, play whatever games and music he wanted, dress however, that didn’t mean he was up to no good. And a lot of boys get into dealing for a little easy extra money around here, he was gonna grow out of that just like Wayne did.
It worked until all this mess.
That’s why Eddie ran off after what happened to the poor Cunningham girl. He gets spooked when something goes wrong, like it’ll be the last straw he can’t make up for so he runs off. Like the first time he didn’t make senior year, went and hid out with that Rick fella that Wayne never did like, got Eddie deep into that business he tried to keep a secret.
‘Course Wayne knew. He knows exactly what and where his boy hides. If those damn cops weren’t tailing him, he would’ve gone straight to get him.
That was before he knew it would turn into all of this. Now he wishes he would’ve done it anyway. Gone right to Eddie, told him it wasn’t his fault that everything got all turned upside down. Told him he knew he was innocent right from the get-go, and got him away from this rotten old town.
But he didn’t.
He didn’t go get his boy.
So now he’s just trying to be there for Eddie’s boys, since he can’t.
“You have a night shift tonight right? Gonna put on a pot of coffee,” Steve says once he’s finished up the dishes.
Wayne hums. There’s usually more noise going on during these visits. Steve’s still alright at carrying on, even without the Henderson boy’s chatter to fill any gaps.
It was strange, the first time the two of them showed up. Wayne knew Eddie was close with Dustin, but he didn’t have a clue that he was chumming it up with the Harrington boy. Just don’t seem like the same type of company. He might not believe it if it weren’t so obvious that Steve cared about his boy. He suspected before, but now with Steve showing up here alone, he knows.
Steve misses Eddie in a different sorta way than Dustin.
“No cream or sugar, right?” Steve looks humored by that as he passes the mug of black coffee to him, “How are you related to Eddie again?”
Wayne’s mouth turns upward, remembering his nephew’s god awful sweet tooth. He picked up a box of Honeycombs the other day in the store out of habit. “Just happened to be standin’ there when they beamed him down.”
That gets a good chuckle out of Steve. Nothing wistful weighing it down and Wayne’s glad, watching Steve pour himself a cup of coffee too.
Then bitter-sweetness swirls in his chest, seeing the mug that Steve chose for himself. Must’ve dug it out from one of the boxes Wayne hadn’t hung back on the walls yet. The earthquake did a number on his collection. That Garfield one was the only one he’d gotten around to gluing back together.
“What is it?” Steve asks, cup paused at his mouth.
“Ah nothin’ just,” Wayne waves it off, “That’s the mug Ed always used.”
“Oh, I can use a diff—”
“Nah, nah go ‘head. It’s fine.”
Unconvinced, Steve takes a wary sip.
Mostly these days, Wayne just feels like a watch without a ticker, a chest with nothing beating inside it. He can’t name the feeling he has at seeing Eddie’s old mug being used by someone else, but at least it’s something.
“Y’know, he used to put everything in that sucker. Soda pop, soup, cereal, you name it,” Wayne shakes his head, mouth twitching into a smile, “I’d have to wrestle it away from him just to give it a good washing. It’s well loved, alright. Leaks now.”
As if on cue, Steve has to grab a napkin to sit underneath it.
Wayne lets out an amused hum, “He uh— Didn’t have much stability ‘fore he came to live with me, so he’d get real attached to things like that.”
Carried around a stuffed dragon they picked up at a garage sale ‘til Wayne couldn’t sew the wings back on anymore. Never wanted to throw anything away. Got real anxious about Wayne going to work sometimes, even when he was too old for a sitter. Held onto him saying “Stay home just today, Dad, please.” Which, he didn’t mind Eddie calling him that. It always softened him up, made him give in. Wishes now that he’d told Eddie upfront. Maybe he never would’ve stopped.
“Thought for sure he’d marry that damn guitar one day.”
Steve nearly sputters his coffee, laughing at that, “Yeah, those two are made for each other.”
It’s nice, seeing the way that story lit Steve up. Sorta like his boy can still make someone happy. Hurts like hell that he ain’t here to do it himself, but Wayne was always good at telling stories. That’s where Eddie learned it from.
“I’m uh,” Steve deflates after a minute, looking down at the mug, “God, I’m just really sorry, Wayne.”
“Yeah. I’m sorry too, Steve,” he says, because, well.
Wayne gets the feeling that his boy was Steve’s boy too.
Read the rest on Ao3
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Let No Man Steal Your Thyme - (older Dramione) Part Five
I hope you enjoy this one! It features a surprise snooty owl (I wonder who could own such a creature???) and some well-meaning concern from a friend. And some banter. And an expensive lunch. Because Theo is extra and can’t help himself. And it’s 4.6k words long...
I also realised that, since I wrote the first chapter basically out of the blue and not really intending for it to blow up into a big multi-part story, I’ve messed up the timeline a little with Harry’s kids, so I’ll have to go back and fix that when it comes to a re-edit before it goes up on AO3, but for now, just handwave it, ok? :)
Finally, many thanks for your lovely owls, anonymous or otherwise, about this story and where it’s going! I was honestly floored by the feedback I’ve got, and thank you to those who’ve reblogged it and helped get it out there for folks to read. I have a very small following since this side-blog is fairly new, so all reblogs are very much appreciated. I did a quick doodle for the cover of the story which you can find here, if you’re interested in how I pictured Draco and Scorpius standing in the steam from the Hogwarts Express from chapter one.
Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four
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Far earlier on Monday morning than she was accustomed to these days, Hermione woke with a start and frowned, confused. Eyes dry and prickly, and hair absolutely everywhere, she sat up and looked around, straining her ears as she blearily tried to work out what had yanked her so unceremoniously from a deep and mercifully dreamless sleep. Her Muggle alarm clock silently showed 05:54 in harsh red numbers, and nothing had touched the wards or tried to get in, though there was something thrumming against them, like the lingering reverberations of a plucked harp string.  
The temporary stillness was shattered when a wild scrabbling of claws and the beating of enormous wings started up against her bedroom window. With a flailing shriek of surprise, she nearly fell out of bed, but after taking a deep breath, she stumbled out from under the covers to wrench the curtains open.  
“Bloody owls!” she began, but drew up short when she saw the unfamiliar bird waiting impatiently on the other side of the glass.  
There, battering its truly monstrous talons against the glass, was a colossal eagle owl. When it saw her, it stopped its fussing to perch haughtily on the brick windowsill outside and fix her with a fiery red glare. If owls could have raised their eyebrows, she got the impression that this one would have done it at the sight of her.  
“Yeah, well, it’s early. What did you expect?” she groused as she slid the window panel to one side and the bird looked around her bedroom with obvious disdain. Imperiously, it stuck out one leg, like a noble expecting a servant to remove a dirty boot, and she saw a rolled-up piece of parchment with a green wax seal and a green ribbon to bind it together.  
“Who do you belong to then?” she asked, going automatically to stroke the bird’s flight-ruffled chest plumage. It instantly hissed and nipped at her fingers, and she barely drew them back in time. “Christ! No need for that,” she gasped. She’d never met a postal owl as cantankerous as this one. “I usually give visiting owls a treat, but I don't think I like your manners one bit.”  
With the letter in hand, she slid the window closed again, leaving a gap just small enough that the bird wasn’t going to barge its way in. She wondered if it had been instructed to wait for an answer because it began almost immediately clicking its beak against the glass and hooting indignantly. 
“Manners makyth bird,” she snapped without looking up, and broke the unfamiliar wax seal on the letter.
It had a cursive ‘M’ within a circle, but was otherwise unadorned. Unfurling it, she glanced at the name on the bottom and her eyebrows rose as her growing suspicions were confirmed. It was signed in a princely English roundhand by none other than Draco Malfoy.  
She snorted, glancing back at the bird who was doing its best basilisk impression from the other side of the glass. “Who else would have such a snotty owl?”
It hooted childishly at her again and she laughed.  
Dear Hermione,
I must beg of you to forgive the unspeakably rude hour of this correspondence, but I am leaving this morning for France by portkey for a couple of days and I had hoped to get your answer before I left. I should add now before you read any further — although with your kind heart I fear it may be too late already — that Cassiopeia here is not fond of physical affection, but is very partial to owl treats. She can be bribed into doing almost anything for food, but affection is sadly not in her nature, so please be careful with your fingers around her beak. The only reason I was able to get her to fly at all at this time of the day was to bribe her lavishly. She’s terribly spoilt, and for that, I’m sorry too.  
Hermione shot another look at the bird, who narrowed her eyes suspiciously. “Cassiopeia, eh?” she said and the enormous owl bobbed a few times. “Prideful about your good looks then, are you? You should know how your namesake’s story ended then. But, I suppose you could be forgiven since you are an inordinately pretty bird. You’ll still not get a crumb from me after trying to take my fingers off though. I’ll be having words with Malfoy about that.”  
Cassiopeia ruffled her feathers and promptly turned her back on Hermione. The bird didn’t take off, so she returned her attention to the letter.  
I spent all weekend thinking about our evening together on Friday, but it will come as little surprise to you to learn that it has taken me all that time to muster up my limited courage to ask you to dinner at your next convenience. Naturally, I left it to the last possible moment to ask you. I have a place in mind in London, but it’s a little more out of the way than the restaurants on Diagon Alley. I have it on authority from the owner that you have never been there, and I would very much like to surprise you, but if you would feel more comfortable knowing in advance, then you can ask Theo while I am out of the country.  
Staggered, Hermione stared at the letter and found her vision swimming a little. Blinking, she was shocked to find tears blurring his formal — almost painfully formal — words.  
But how long had it been since anyone had actually asked her on a date? ‘Too intimidating’, ‘too boring’, ‘too work-orientated’, ‘too bossy’, ‘too driven’ were all things she’d heard at one point or another, and admittedly many of them from Ron.  
Thirty seven wasn’t even old - especially by magical standards - but she didn’t exactly have the same bright-eyed charms as someone like, say, Lavender did anymore. Hard work, and a draining marriage seemed to have sapped much of the youth and vigour from her. And, if she were honest, being replaced by someone supposedly ‘more attractive’ had damaged her more deeply than she cared to admit, even to herself. There were certainly days when she felt like a washed-up, burnt-out, dowdy old matron. She had crashed out of a sparkling career in the Ministry to run a scruffy old second-hand bookshop next to the newly-refurbished Florian Fortescue’s ice cream parlour.  
“Why are you even bothering, Malfoy?” she murmured aloud as she stared blankly at the letter in her hands. With looks like his — and a groaning Gringotts’ account if the rumours were to be believed, not that that mattered a jot to Hermione — he could probably have had almost any witch he wanted, his past and reclusive behaviour be damned. And yet he was asking her to dinner after having only met twice since they turned eighteen? Three times, she supposed if she included that brief encounter at the Ministry on the night of the attack.  
Perhaps he was lonely just wanted the company. Perhaps she was just… convenient; a chump with a soft spot for outcasts…
Before she let herself go too far down that unsavoury rabbit hole, she forced herself to read on, heart pounding. Outside on the windowsill, the owl had gone very still, watching her with curious, orange eyes.  
Please feel free to send Cassiopeia back with your response either way. I hope I have not overstepped or misread how things are between us now, especially given our history, but I find my thoughts returning over and over to our evening, and to that surprise lunch on the 1st of September. I’m not sure what I had expected when you asked me to join you that day, but I certainly hadn’t expected to enjoy myself as much as I did. In the years since I became Scorpius’ sole guardian, I have not sought the company of others, nor have I particularly enjoyed it when it has been inflicted upon me, but those two occasions spent with you have drawn me out of myself. You truly are a remarkable witch, and I’m more moved and honoured than I can express that you have given me even this much of your precious time already.  
Before I begin to ramble too freely, I think I must sign off here.  
Yours,  
D.M.  
P.S. Scorpius did write to me in the end. He has a detention already, and Potter’s youngest is also involved somehow… I will get more details from him anon, and no doubt a letter from McGonagall in due course.  
For a long time, Hermione stood in her bedroom, with her hair in a wild halo around her head and her scruffy old pyjamas hanging low on her hips, just staring at his signature.  
When Draco’s owl began to fidget and fuss again, she sighed and looked up. “Sit tight,” she breathed. “I’m going to get a piece of paper and if you keep quiet, I might bring an owl treat with me when I come back, ok?”
Cassiopeia narrowed her eyes and ducked her head suspiciously, but remained put on the windowsill, so she took that as a ‘yes’ and disappeared into her tiny study.  
Grabbing a biro from the chipped mug that served as a pen and quill pot, and tearing a sheaf of paper from a muggle notebook, she scrawled a note back to him.  
With that done, and before she could talk herself out of what she had just accepted, she returned to his owl with a treat. The bird mobbed her for it instantly, but Hermione scowled at her, snatched her hand back, and barked, “Wait! My goodness, you are spoilt. Let me attach this first, and if I manage it without you drawing blood or otherwise maiming me, not only will it be a flipping miracle, but you’ll get your sodding treat, alright?”
The bird went still with a tiny shuffle of her wings, and stuck out her leg.  
“Thank you,” Hermione said tartly.  
Cassiopeia took off with her note attached by the same green ribbon and secured with a basic sticking charm. The downdraft from her departure sent bits of accumulated detritus from the window ledge spiralling up into Hermione’s face, but she coughed and blinked, and watched the bird soar way up into the sky. The receding dot of her silhouette banked west, out of sight and in the eventual direction of Wiltshire and Malfoy Manor.  
Malfoy Manor.  
She’d hardly given the place any thought since that fateful night ten or so years ago when Malfoy had been attacked, a whole wing had been burned to the ground, and Scorpius had nearly been killed. They’d never said in the papers who had done it, and the Auror Office had been distinctly tight-lipped about it. Not that she’d really bothered to find out more, if she were honest. Once Malfoy’s little yowling mandrake had left her office in his father’s arms, she had been almost instantly reabsorbed with her own caseload, and Harry had never mentioned the outcome of the investigation to her. A twinge of gilt shot through her but she pushed it down. It was hardly a topic for dinnertime conversation either, so she doubted she’d find out immediately.  
She thought vaguely about clambering back into bed, but since she was up, she headed to the kitchen and put the kettle on for a cup of tea. It had been a while since she’d been up before dawn, and she had some paperwork to do anyway.  
Cassiopeia’s appearance was not the only unusual thing to happen to her that day. She had no visitors to the shop at all for the entire morning, but when the brass bell above the door did finally chime, she looked up from the desk at the back of the shop to find Theo striding in.  
“Hi, love,” he grinned, stepping deer-like over the stack of recent arrivals beside the counter and stooping to hug her where she sat. “Lunch. You and me. Now.”
“Theo, I have a shop to run,” she said, rolling her eyes. “I can’t just… leave. Besides, I brought sandwiches.”
“I will literally pay you the price of an entire chest of first editions to spend the next few hours in my company if things are that tight. Or I could just… buy you an entire chest of first editions,” he said, adding with his most dangerous puppy-dog eyes, “Seriously, please come to lunch with me?”
She flicked her wrist and the ‘open’ sign hanging in the glass-panelled door flipped over to ‘closed’. “I’m not accepting your money, Theo. What’s the occasion?”
He twitched slightly and then flashed her a grin; a combination that made her instantly wary. “Does a gentleman need ‘an occasion’ to ask a beautiful lady to lunch?” he asked, his brown eyes wide with feigned innocence.  
Hermione slowly raised one eyebrow. “You’re gay. And happily married. And that’s a terrible line. Try again.”
“Doesn’t mean I can’t take my very best friend out,” he shrugged nonchalantly.  
Something was definitely up.  
“Draco Malfoy is, and always has been, your very best friend in all the world. Try again.”
“You,” he said, actually growling the word this time with comical frustration, “Are one very persistent witch.”
“Mmhmm. How do you think I made it to Minister by twenty-seven, darling,” she grinned, still without getting up from her chair. “Last chance or I turn that sign around and forcibly evict you from my shop.”  
Theo whipped his wand out from his inner jacket pocket like he was in a duel, and apparently vanished the offending sign from the door altogether. “There. Your threats are empty. Come to lunch with me.”
“Theodore Nott, you return my sign this instant.”
“Say you’ll come to lunch with me, and the sign goes back up.”
“I will not be threatened in my own shop!” she laughed, arms folding across her chest like a petulant child. “Put it back. Now.”
“Say you’ll come with me,” he said with a wide, playful grin, planting his hands on the counter and leaning his long frame forwards.  
She had to bite her lips to stop from giggling. The charming scoundrel knew she’d say yes anyway. “I’ll tell Dan you were bullying me,” she said.  
“Tell him; he’ll never believe you. He thinks I’m lovely. Come on, Hermione,” he added, softening from playful to plaintive. “I need to talk to you.”
“About what?”
“You and my ‘very best friend in all the world’, that’s what,” he said, and levelled her with a flat stare.
Her stomach dropped and she remembered the letter from that morning. And its contents. ‘…if you would feel more comfortable knowing, then you can ask Theo while I am gone’ Draco had said. He’d spoken with Theo about asking her out. She didn't know whether to be honoured or embarrassed.
Seeing her expression slip, Theo came round the side of the counter to stand beside her and leaned his hips against the wooden desk. “So you like him?”
“I… Why would that be a surprise?”
Theo blinked, and then his gaze flickered down to her left forearm. Everyone knew about the word engraved into her skin with the point of a cursed knife — she’d never tried to conceal it — but not many knew the real truth of just how the slur had come to be carved indelibly into her flesh. Theo was one of the few who did. “You’re really asking me why I’m surprised you like him?” he said in a hoarse whisper. “You, of all people?”
She took a very deep breath, held it, and then sighed. “Let’s go. You’re paying though. And I’m drinking.”
He managed a shy smile, and as they approached the front door of her shop his shimmering illusion around the sign dissolved to reveal it once again.  
“Cheeky bugger,” she smirked at him and he waggled his eyebrows disarmingly. An undercurrent of anxiety still lurked beneath his jovial expression though.  
A number of new restaurants had opened up in Diagon Alley, but Theo’s and Dan’s favourite was a sleek, modern establishment, quite different from the fusty old decor of the Leaky Cauldron or the other more traditional restaurants in wizarding London. It also sat overlooking the crooked columns of Gringotts, and was eye-wateringly expensive. Naturally, Theo was greeted by name at the door, and the pair were shown without fuss or fanfare to one of the nicest — and most secluded — tables.
With food ordered, and enormous balloon-glasses of wine in front of them, Theo fixed her with a serious look and steered the conversation around to the real reason for his impromptu lunchtime kidnapping. “He finally grew a pair and asked you to dinner then?”
“Mmm,” she nodded. “I take it this is… unusual for him?”
Theo tipped his head back and chuckled softly, sounding more tired than amused. “That’s putting it mildly, love. Until Friday, I had the devil’s own job trying to get dear Draco to leave his gloomy little manor house and come to anything. I had to blackmail him into coming to our anniversary, you know?”  
Hermione just frowned, not entirely sure if he was being serious or not.  
Theo let out a slow breath and stared into his wineglass, idly twirling the stem between long fingers. “Don’t get me wrong,” he said without looking at her, “I’m beyond grateful that he finally seems to be opening up to the idea of… being somewhat… vulnerable again, but…”
“You’re worried I’m going to hurt him,” she said quietly, and Theo bowed his head. “Theo, I’m… You know me. This isn’t just some one night stand with a rich, attractive bloke I met in a bar. I haven’t —” she leaned in close over the table and hissed, “I haven’t even had sex with anyone in years, Theo. Years!” She brushed an errant corkscrew of hair back out of her eyes, embarrassed.
His lips twitched at that, but his eyes remained stormy.  
“I’m not going into this lightly. I was honestly as surprised as you are, but I wouldn’t even be considering going on a date with Draco Malfoy if I wasn’t completely convinced that he was no longer the bratty little owl-pellet he was back at Hogwarts.”
At that, Theo barked such a loud laugh that the patrons at the tables nearby turned to look at him like he’d sworn in a church. He covered his mouth with his hand and snickered himself into silent tears for a good thirty seconds before she rolled her eyes and sat back with her glass in her hand, waiting for him to control himself again.  
“I’m telling Dan you called him that. And Pansy. They’ll love it.”
“Right,” she said, cheeks suddenly hot. “Well, as much as he might have been an owl pellet, let’s not have it become a ‘thing’, hmm?”
The mirth in his face simmered back down and he looked at her steadily over the rim of his wineglass. “Look, I care about both of you, and I can see this going two ways. One: you realise that the two of you actually have an awful lot in common, he takes you to increasingly fancy places for dates, you have lots of steamy sex, and finally settle down together. Two: the past gets in the way, you both say hurtful stuff you don’t really mean, and you both end up single and twice as miserable as you were before you went for lunch at the Leaky. Don't think I didn’t know about that, either,” he added.  
“You’re such a gossip,” she snapped.  
“I was being serious, Hermione,” he said, leaning to one side as their food arrived.  
She paused until the waiter had left but didn’t make any move to pick up her cutlery. “Are you looking out for him or for me?” she asked.  
Theo sighed. “Both of you. But…”
“Mostly Draco, huh?”
“He’s like a brother to me, Hermione. He was there for me when no one else was. You know the things my father did to me as a child, and Draco helped me through all of it. And ‘Cissa too. And I couldn’t believe it when he actually showed up at drinks the other night. Watching him, it… it was like the old Draco had come back to me. The nice ‘old Draco’, I mean.” His eyes glistened and he blinked rapidly, voice cracking as he continued. “After the attack, he shut himself away at the Manor with Scorpius, as if he could keep the whole world out just to keep little Scorp safe. I thought… I thought he’d never leave, Hermione.”
“You never talked about any of this,” she said gently, forcing herself to make a start on her linguine despite the fact that her appetite had vanished almost completely.  
Theo shrugged. “I guess… I guess I wanted to give him the privacy he craved, and to be honest, I didn’t think you’d be all that sympathetic to him after your history.”
At that, she scowled, but she could see his point. “Theo, I held his screaming infant in my arms for hours while he was being questioned by the Aurors that night. I saw his face when he came to my office for Scorpius afterwards.” She shook her head. “No one who saw him then could believe he was even a shadow of the person he had been at Hogwarts.”
At her words, Theo had stopped eating, fork held loosely between perpetually-ink-stained fingers even as it rested on his plate. “You did? He never said.”
She tried not to examine that last comment too closely. “Mm. Harry didn't know what else to do with him, so he brought Scorpius to me to see if I could quieten him down. In the end all it took was a handful of my hair and a few poorly-sung folk songs. But you’re missing the point, Theo. You could have trusted me with things that were worrying you. I would have listened to you.”
“I —” he cut off and cleared his throat. “I know. I’m sorry. I just… Aside from Dan, I don’t think I love anyone as much as I love him.”
It was Hermione’s turn to choke up a little, but she swallowed and said, “Then I can think of no greater accolade for his character.” She looked up at him and added, “So where’s he taking me then?”
“You said yes?”
“I did. I like him. And not just because he looks like a flipping marble statue brought to life. He’s thoughtful, and he always was extremely intelligent and articulate. I’ve really enjoyed talking with him this time around. I think… I think…” she pursed her lips and took a too-big gulp of wine. Luckily it all went down the right way, and she forged on. “I think… we could work. Or at least… I want to see where it goes, Theo.”
With a slow nod, Theo finally relaxed his shoulders and let out a shaky breath. “He wants to take you to The Foundry.”  
“I’ve never heard of it,” she mumbled. It wasn’t one of the ones in Diagon Alley, for sure.
Theo made a side-to-side movement of his head. “I’m not surprised. It’s…”
“Oh God, is it horrifically expensive?” she asked, eyes wide with a sudden abject terror. “Theo, if he’s going to take me somewhere hideously fancy for our first date, I’m going to back out right now…”
The corners of his lips lifted and he shook his head. “Not in the way you’re thinking. You have to know the owners to get a table though, and there are no menus. They’ll ask if you have any allergies, but other than that, you eat what they serve you.”
“Holy fuck, Theo…”
“Trust me, you’ll love it. The place used to be a bell foundry in the seventeenth century — hence the name — and it’s this gorgeous brick building with arches and vaults, and cosy little corners,” he added, raising his eyebrows. “You’ll forget where you are and be as comfortable as if you were in your own pokey little Muggle living room. I promise.”
She narrowed her eyes and took another gulp of wine. “I’ll take your word for it, Nott,” she said. “What should I wear?”
Without hesitation, he said, “That burgundy number you haven’t worn since Pansy told you to buy it.”
She blanched at that. “Theo, it’s…”
“Gorgeous? Revealing in all the right ways, yet modest enough to suit you? Dead sexy? Exactly the kind of thing that will make Draco lose his goddamn mind when he sees you in it? The kind of thing that will make him spend all evening simultaneously admiring you in it and mentally tearing it off you —”
“Theo, stop!” she hissed, flushing darker. “For God’s sake shut up!”
He cackled into the remainder of his wine, but refused to give any more sartorial advice.  
“Burgundy dress and heels it is, I guess,” she said, and the two of them focused on their food again.  
“I hope,” Theo said as they left a very leisurely two hours later, “I hope you don’t think I was too…” he jiggled nervously on the balls of his feet as he held the door open for her, “Overbearing…”
“I mean, you did ambush me, blackmail and threaten me into having lunch with you at the fanciest restaurant in Diagon Alley where I couldn’t reasonably kick up a fuss, and then proceed to tell me all sorts of heartrending stories about Draco and yourself…”  
When she saw the wounded look in Theo’s brown eyes, she stopped and turned to face him.
“Theo, no. You’re one of my best friends, and you clearly care about us both. Stop panicking,” she added when she saw the slightly wild light in his eyes. “You didn’t try to tell me what to do or who to see. You’re looking out for your friends, and making sure we’re both… serious about this. And I appreciate that.” She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and added, “But know that if you keep meddling beyond that, I will hex your bollocks off and make you explain it to Dan.”
“Understood,” he said with a watery smile. “I was worried I’d overstepped.”
“I’ll forgive you if you tell me one thing.”
“Name it.”
“Did you have the same talk with Draco about breaking my heart?”
His handsome, freckled face split into a blinding white grin. “I did.”
“Forgiven,” she said. “Now, some of us actually have to work for a living.”
“I work!” he squealed. “I work bloody hard up in the Department of International Magical Cooperation, thank you very much!”
“I know you do,” she conceded. “Not that you actually need a job, you filthy rich prick.”
Theo laughed long and loud, scooping her hand up in his and walking arm in arm down the bustling, cobbled street towards her bookshop. “And to think,” he chimed with a sidelong look down at her, “You used to be Minister for Magic with that mouth.”
“I know,” she said. “It nearly got me into trouble on many an occasion.”
Kneazel and Quill’s little sign swung jauntily in the breeze and Theo gave a slight bow from the waist when they stopped at the door. With anyone else, it might have seemed foppish and insincere, but with Theo, she knew he meant it. He was only silly like this with his closest friends.  
“Good day, fair maiden of the dusty bookshop,” he said. “And thank you for giving my idiot best friend a chance.”
Hermione nodded and smiled. She stood and soaked up the autumn sunshine for a while as she watched his retreating back, until he eventually disappeared into the Diagon Alley entrance to the Ministry and she slid back into the musty quiet of her little sanctuary.
Chapter Six
___
Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed this chapter of friendship! Next time, Hermione and Draco go for that date...!! Things will start to gain momentum too, fear not. It’s not going to be an eternal slow-burn...
writing masterlist | Ao3
70 notes · View notes
hq-vbc · 4 years
Text
forgotten
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you told me to forget but all I do is remember.
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⧏⧐
“either let go of the beers or buy your own.”
iwaizumi cursed as hanamaki snatched the bottle of beer out of his hand.
“give it back, hanamaki.”
“you can’t keep drowning yourself in alcohol. it’s been like three weeks”, hanamaki said, plopping himself to the couch opposite iwaizumi. “and plus, this is mine. I paid for this. what gives you the right to drink my money away?”, hanamaki added. “just go and buy chips or whatever, they’re probably somewhat healthier.”
“what am I supposed to do” iwaizumi let out a cruel snort and mumbled: “obviously nothing to win her back.”
“I’m this close to smack you across the face, honestly”, hanamaki said, chugging the rest of the bottle.
“thought you were a man, y’know somewhat strong”, he added.
“not a man enough for her-“
“oh my god, iwaizumi ”, hanamki slammed the bottle on the table. “your life doesn’t revolve around her. you’re so lovesick it’s disgusting me.”
iwaizumi ran a hand through his hair: “I don’t even know what I did. she just ended it out of nowhere. like literally, I got out of the shower and there was a text on my phone that said ‘let’s end this’ like what the fuck man.”
hanamaki stared at his friend emotionlessly.
“girls do that. they’re cruel and manipulative. once they’re done with you, they throw you away.”
“where did that come from? bad experience, huh?”, the ace scoffed.
“yeah”, hanamaki answered with a groan as he got out of his seat and walked to the kitchen. he returned with two beer bottles, throwing one at his friend.
“because I pity you right now”, he said, plopping back on the couch and snapping the bottle open.
“this time I’ll accept your pity”, iwaizumi answered, chugging half the beer in one go and wiping his mouth with his sleeve.
“how’d you get over it?”, he wanted to know, adding: “I’d rather die than feel like this right now.”
hanamaki threw a pillow at his friend: “don’t say that!”
iwaizumi caught the pillow and tried to throw it back.
“don’t you dare to throw something at me in my house”, hanamaki intimated his friend.
“anyways, I just kind of got over it. I deleted her number, drank a couples of beer and got over it.”
“you make it sound so easy”, iwaizumi commented, messaging his forehead.
“it wasn’t but it will get easier.”
“where is she now?”
“dunno. probably married, kids, steady job, nice house, nice car and not stuck with a lovesick guy”, hanamaki guessed, taking another sip.
“kids? what the fuck- how old is she?”
“let’s just say she’s older than me”, he winked.
⧏⧐
iwaizumi wandered the dark streets by himself, wearing a grey hoodie and black jeans. there was no one else besides him and the occasional stray cat.
he stopped in the middle of an isolated road and sat down.
at this point, he thought, he couldn’t care less if he got hit by a car.
the ace fished his phone out of his pocket and stared strongly at his lockscreen that he still hadn’t changed.
it was a selfie of them both, clad in snowboarding gear and matching thick, grey jackets. there was snow everywhere - on both of their hoods, their shoulders, the snowboarding goggles on their heads. he loved her small hands, which were covered in creme colored gloves, that fit perfectly in his. he loved her smile along with her dimples that no one took notice of. he loved her nose and how bright red it was in the picture from the cold.
he loved everything about her.
but the same couldn’t probably be said by her.
iwaizumi stared at his phone. was he being stupid right now? was the alcohol getting to him? he sighed, wiping the tears in his eyes away.
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he sat up straight and anticipated an answer. he wanted to know what he did wrong. he wanted to apologize and bring her back into his arms where she belongs.
deep down he knew he wasn’t going to get a response. but he still sat there, in the middle of the night with a false sense of hope that maybe she would.
⧏⧐
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⧏⧐
rain.
iwaizumi sat alone on his bed in his dark room, staring out the window into the desolated street.
he had nothing else to do. he ran out of beer but the rain was too heavy to get out and buy more. he had no food in his fridge but a couple ketchup packets and soy sauce.
he wasn’t feeling hungry anyways.
iwaizumi listened to the pitter patter of the rain hitting his window. he was tempted to open it to let some breeze in. he loved the smell of the rain.
but he stopped himself.
the rain only reminded him of her.
iwaizumi took a deep breath to control his feelings. he really needed that beer.
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he stared out of the window and noticed a nest on the tree outside his window. the bird that was arranging leaves all of her eggs so the rain won’t damage them. then another bird came and covered them all from the rain with a chip bag. iwaizumi watched as, who he assumed as the female bird, chirped in happiness as they both sat down with their eggs in the nest, protected from the harsh rhythms of the rain.
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⧏⧐
“iwaizumi!”
he held his phone a little further from his ear as matsukawa’s voice echoed through the phone.
“what’s up?”, the ace said, after he deemed the voice safe for his eardrums.
“wanna go out? me and hanamaki are going clubbing tonight.”
“I don’t know.”
“come on, iwaizumi! you need to let loose and live life! hanamaki told me you’re getting over a break up, right? maybe it will help!”
“matsukawa-“
“iwaizumi, if you don’t go I’m coming over and drag your sorry-ass out myself!”, he heard from farther away.
“sorry, that was hanamaki’s screaming from across the room. you’re on speaker by the way”, matsukawa apologized.
iwaizumi sighed: “I guess I have no choice. I’ll meet you there.” he hung up and threw his phone on his bed, getting ready to “have fun”.
⧏⧐
he barely heard matsukawa saying hi to him over the loud techno music in the room.
iwaizumi settled by the bar after they separated to do their own things, ordering a few bottles of beer as he watched his friends practically grind on random girls wearing little clothes.
he sighed, he wasn’t made for clubs.
iwaizumi chugged a few bottles down in attempt to get into the mood. he thought that if he’s already here, he should at least try to make it worthwhile.
he ran a hand through his hair and watched as the lights in the club began to change colors. he was starting to get a little tipsy but he wasn’t a light drinker. he knew what his limit was.
and maybe he wanted to go over that limit a little bit today.
“hey”, he heard, feeling a hand on his shoulder.
he turned around to see a girl wearing short shorts, a crop top and a face full of makeup.
“wanna dance? you’re too cute to be sitting here alone”, she winked.
fuck it, he thought, grabbing that girl’s hand.
he let the beat and the strong bass overtake him as he danced with her. from the corner of his eyes he could see matsukawa and hanamaki grabbing a few drinks and giving him thumbs up.
the girl grabbed his hands and put them around her waist as she pressed her chest into his.
I’m getting too much into this, he thought, gripping her waist tighter.
next thing he knew, he let himself be dragged to a dark, empty part of the club and her lips pressed against his.
part (II)
177 notes · View notes
laqualassiel · 4 years
Note
How does Sola's first meeting with the glaives go? Given she's a Princess, and her demand to train with them... does anyone think she's spoiled?
Ooh, Sola and the glaives! This’ll be kinda a rambly, since I’m still working my way through the walkthroughs and haven’t gotten to Kingsglaive yet. So forgive me if anyone seems out of character.
-Short version: Not Well.
-Long Version: Sola and the Glaives do not get off to the best start. She’s fifteen, her brother is crippled from an attack she wasn’t present to defend him from, and said crippled brother is in the middle of Niflheim territory with only their father as security. Sola doesn’t care that she’s only fifteen and not a Crownsguard or Kingsglaive. Her brother - her King - is vulnerable and if he’s attacked again, she won’t be there to protect him. Again.
-Needless to say, all of this does not help Sola’s already short temper. Hence her storming into a Kingsglaive training hall and demanding Titus allow her to join their training, despite not being of age to enlist. 
-Sola’s furious temper tantrum a couple days prior was... not subtle, so pretty much everyone in glaive heard about that incident even if they don’t know what triggered it. Most of them think this is just teenage rebellion on Sola’s part and figure she’ll drop out once she experiences the reality of glaive training. Sure, everyone claims she’s the second coming of Cor the Immortal, but none of the glaive have actually seen Sola fight? So most of them take that claim with a grain of salt because she’s a mainlander princess and they figure that even if she’s a good fighter, the rest of the claim is probably just empty boasting.
-But yeah, a number of glaives think Sola is spoiled somewhat. They grumble about Titus letting her join training, but she did pass the entry fitness tests so Titus didn’t really have any grounds to bar her except for her age. But Sola didn’t ask to join the glaive, just their training so the glaives assume that while Titus could keep her out (which he could), the Captain didn’t want to deal with the repercussions of the princess throwing another tantrum. Easier all around to let Sola join until she quit.
-So the glaives at Yamachangs the night before Sola starts training grumble over royal brats getting in over their heads and make bets on how long it’ll take for the princess to quit.
-As for individual glaives... I haven’t figured out exactly when or how they each really meet Sola, or even when each of them join the glaive, so this is definitely subject to changes as I figure that out and get a better handle on the glaives’ individual personalities.
-Titus: Titus wants to Sigh. He’s one of the few to know exactly what sparked Sola’s temper, and he also knows that Sola’s earned every inch of her reputation as the Immortal’s successor. He also knows that if the attack on the King and injured Crown Prince succeeds, then Sola will be Queen, and if the Princess ever figures out that Titus is General Glauca she will Immediately Throw Hands. Which, he could probably survive, but that would draw down the Marshal’s wrath and Titus isn’t sure he could survive a murderous Immortal. Despite that though? Titus reluctantly likes the spitfire. One of the worst tempers he’s ever seen, but Sola’s got an insane work ethic to match her prodigal talent. And his glaives will only benefit from training with her, once she reaches their level, so Titus maybe interferes on Sola’s behalf here or there until Sola settles into the routine.
-Luche: Luche is a Despair. He recognizes that look in the Captain’s eye. Captain actually likes the royal bratling, which means they’re probably going to keep the bratling. Which means they have to keep said Bratling alive out on the front lines, when she has a temper shorter than her height and a chip on her shoulder the size of the Citadel. And the rest of the idiots - bar Lib because Lib is the only one that doesn’t try to give Luche headaches - are going to try to run the Bratling off and Luche can already see the clash of Stubborn. He does not get paid enough for this damn it all.
-Sonitus: He was present for Sola’s initial introduction to the kingsglaive and ooh boy does that first impression Stick. Sonitus thinks Sola is a spoiled, undisciplined brat, and bets that she’ll only stick around a week before bailing, prodigal talent or not. After all, Titus doesn’t believe in going easy on new recruits, and well. There’s a reason the glaive are the elite, and it’s not just because they can use magic. Sonitus doesn’t want Sola barging in and tarnishing their rep.
-Axis: Axis isn’t fond of Sola. He keeps to himself and doesn’t interact with the Princess even though he’s a regular spectator of Sola and Tredd’s spars. He’s the first one to get suspicious over how fast Sola recovers from injuries, and the first to notice how Sola seems to shrug off damage that would at the least inconvenience other glaives after a minute and continue like she didn’t take damage in the first place. He doesn’t say anything because it sounds so odd, and even Lucis Caelum magic doesn’t let you do that. (If he notes Sola’s brilliant red hair and the golden hue to her magic and wonders if he’s not the only one with... hidden heritage, well, it would explain why Sola is not the Crown Princess despite being seven years older than her brother, and why Sola does have her own Shield like every other Lucis Caelum.)
-Crowe: Crowe is only a couple years older than Sola at seventeen. Unlike her fellow glaives, Crowe hopes Sola sticks around. Sure, Crowe isn’t the only woman in the glaive, but it’s still a bit of a boys’ club and having more girls would be nice. Crowe is fairly itching to see how much damage an LC can do with magic - that thought she does not voice aloud because Luche Will Overreact and do something stupid like ban Crowe from asking Sola for tips or tricks. Crowe is the one who bets that Sola won’t quit, because she’s seen the look in Sola’s eyes and bets the princess will out-stubborn even her stubborn comrades. (Crowe is Smug when collecting her winnings from that particular bet.)
-Nyx: Nyx is one of the ones that sees Sola storm the training session. He’s not happy about the Pipsqueak forcing her way into their training, and he’s really not happy about her steamrolling over the Captain to do it. So he’s really not inclined to be all that helpful to her. After all, if it gets her out of their hair quicker, it’s all the sooner they can get back to business as usual. Not that he intends to actively make it harder for the Pipsqueak, Captain would not be happy with them and no doubt the Pipsqueak would bring Cor down on their asses, but letting the Pipsqueak muddle through everything herself should make it clear that no one is going to hold her hand.
-Libertus: Lib’s one of the most welcoming to Sola, compared to the rest of the glaive. He’s determined to treat her like any other glaive recruit despite everyone else’s grumbling. Sola’s trained under Cor the Immortal, and Libertus can’t imagine the man going easy on anyone, not even his own goddaughter. And well, Sola’s test results speak for themselves, and Sola scored a hell of a lot better than most of the recruits that try to join up before boot camp sends them packing. As far as the princess’ attitude? Libertus can name a few glaives off the top of his head with far more irritating attitudes - Tredd - so frankly Lib doesn’t think they’ve got any right to complain about that.
-Tredd: Speaking of Sola’s fellow redhead, Tredd picks a fight with Sola five minutes into Sola’s first day of training. Sola doesn’t explode only because Titus shows up two seconds later and throws them all head first into training until they can hardly move. Tredd will grudgingly admit that Sola doesn’t do too bad for someone who’s never run Titus’ obstacle courses from hell. But well, Tredd doesn’t want some upstart princess thinking she can muscle her way into the ranks. He figures if he can get her pissed enough to throw another tantrum, that’ll give Captain the excuse needed to throw the princess out of training. Only Captain keeps showing up before the princess erupts, and the princess instead channels that anger into training and really Captain?! Tredd is very pleased when Titus finally throws them all into partner spars - no weapons or offensive magic, and anything bar maiming - and partners him with the princess because he figures this is the perfect chance to get her to blow her top.
-He succeeds in sparking Sola’s temper. Tredd walks away with a sprained knee and broken nose on top of his bruises, but Sola takes three times the damage before finally losing the spar. Then shows up the next day for training moving like Tredd hadn’t wrenched her shoulder and stomped on her foot hard enough to fracture it. Tredd isn’t the only one to stare, because it was long enough that elixirs shouldn’t have worked! Hell, Tredd isn’t running the courses for two days until the healing magic settled in his knee and he only sprained it! 
-Sola has the gall to smirk at Tredd and so starts the Rivalry. It is not pretty and Titus bans them from sparring unsupervised after one spar that got out of hand and resulted in both Tredd and Sola getting benched from training by the medics. 
-Tredd wins in all their clashes at first, but Sola is just as vicious as he is and it ironically endears Sola to Tredd and the glaive? Like, the glaives don’t quite realize it at first, but they stop betting on what will make Sola quit (absolutely nothing, they finally realize two months in), and start betting on long Sola will last in the next clash, how much damage the two will dish out before the fight ends, and just how much damage Sola can actually tank before she goes down and stays down (the answer is two broken and three cracked ribs, broken arm, and it was the concussion that left her seeing double that did it), and how the hell none of that damage ever stuck (Tredd’s face when the glaives learn about Sola’s odd magic giving her functional regeneration is a Treasure). Sola finally manages to beat Tredd three months in, and Tredd is Grudgingly Impressed. The rest of the glaives cheer for Sola and gil changes hands. Tredd swears at them even as he lets Sola haul him to his feet.
47 notes · View notes
andtails · 4 years
Text
A Prelude to Chaos Control - Chapter 3: Watch Me Fly
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Click here to start from the beginning. You can also read this story on FanFiction.Net or Archive of Our Own.
*****
Chapter 3: Watch Me Fly
Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep.
Tails reached over to his bedside table to turn off his alarm clock before ducking his head under the comforter to hide from the sunlight peeking through the curtains.
Just a few more minutes...
An hour later, the orange fox was fast asleep, seemingly forgoing his goal of waking up early to fix his sleep routine and head to Angel Island to investigate the Master Emerald.
Meanwhile, Sonic was just getting up himself, performing his morning stretches before heading down to the kitchen for a light breakfast, a far cry from the early morning feast they enjoyed yesterday.
“Morning Ta—" Sonic began to say, waving an arm to greet the young kitsune whom he expected to be waiting for him. “That’s strange,” he said to himself, looking around the immaculate kitchen, scratching his head in confusion. “He’s usually up earlier than me.”
Figuring that he was preparing for the trip, the hedgehog went to Tails’ workshop only to find it abandoned, the pile of components and the Chaos Emerald detector still sitting at the workbench undisturbed from the prior afternoon.
“He couldn’t still be sleeping, could he?” Sonic asked himself as he returned to the main living quarters and walked up the stairs.
Sure enough, he found his little brother’s bedroom door closed. Sonic pressed an ear against the door, hearing only the sound of light breathing coming from the room. He opened the door to see his younger brother fully submerged under the blanket. He sat down on the edge of the bed, the fox still soundly asleep.
“Mornin’ Tails.” The comforter rustled as Tails’ triangular ears twitched beneath it.
Tails wrapped himself tighter in his blanket, not acknowledging his older brother’s greeting. When Sonic drew the curtains, he heard an audible groan from the two-tailed fox, who repositioned himself in bed, covering his already buried head with a pillow.
“C’mon, Tails,” Sonic insisted, as he nudged his little brother. “We’re gonna head to Knuckles’ place, remember?”
“Five more minutes,” Tails replied in a monotone voice, muffled by his pillow and blanket.
“Well,” Sonic said, crossing his arms and tapping his foot, impatience growing in his voice. “Okay then, but I’ll be back if you’re not up soon.” The blue hedgehog exited the bedroom and returned to the kitchen.
“Why am I so tired?” Tails asked himself as he threw the comforter to the side and got out of bed. “I got so much sleep yesterday.”
Making his way to the kitchen, Tails rubbed his eyes as he took his seat at the table, a bowl of cereal and a glass of juice waiting for him.
“Eat up, little buddy,” Sonic insisted, patting him on the shoulder. “We’ve got a long day ahead of us.” He continued eating his own cereal while reading the newspaper, skimming the headlines for anything exciting or remotely Eggman-related.
Meanwhile, Tails began to eat slowly, still exhausted.
“Is everything okay?” Sonic asked, glancing at the tired kitsune from above the newspaper.
“Yeah,” Tails replied after taking a sip of juice. “Just couldn’t sleep is all.”
Sonic stared at his orange friend in concern, noticing the baggy rings around his eyes.
“It was that dream, wasn’t it?”
Tails looked up at his older brother and nodded.
“We could always go later, ya know,” Sonic offered, setting his newspaper down and bringing his empty cereal bowl to the sink.
“We shouldn’t delay,” Tails replied, looking up at the hedgehog, determination gleaming through his tired face. “The longer we wait, the more time Eggman has to plot his next move.”
“Right,” Sonic replied, walking toward the counter on the other side of the kitchen. “Maybe this’ll help.” He turned on a rarely used coffee machine and began preparing a hot beverage for the young kitsune.
“Sonic, you know I don’t like coffee, right?”
“Don’t worry, I’ll go ahead and add some sugar for ya.” As the scent of freshly-ground coffee filled the kitchen, the blue hedgehog found the sugar container in the pantry.
“I suppose I’ll try it.” Tails finished his bowl of cereal before stacking his dish over Sonic’s in the sink. As he returned to the table, a fresh cup o’ joe was waiting for him.
“Now don’t burn yourself,” Sonic warned, placing his arms on his hips. “You don’t wanna have to deal with a burnt tongue all day, after all!”
“Yeah, yeah,” Tails replied, brushing off his older brother’s advice. He took a sip and immediately set the coffee cup down, blowing air out of his burnt mouth.
“See! What did I tell ya?”
Tails ignored Sonic’s comment as he stuck his tongue out and waved his hand in front of it. He took a few more sips after blowing over the hot beverage, creating small black waves in his cup.
“This is actually pretty good,” Tails said, a smile forming on his face. “That is, if you ignore the taste of burnt flesh.” The brothers laughed in unison as they began planning their day.
“Hey Sonic, I think I’ll skip our jog this morning. I’ll go and prepare for departure while you exercise.”
“Nah,” Sonic replied, looking down at the orange fox. “I could go for a rest day every now and then, and besides, I’d rather help you pack.”
“Sure,” Tails replied, waving his hand toward the blue hedgehog, sarcasm palpable in his voice.
“What, I meant it! It’s our adventure, after all, so why should you get stuck with all the packing?”
“Thanks, Sonic,” Tails replied, his sarcasm overtaken with sincerity.
“No sweat, buddy.” Sonic gave his little brother a thumbs up while Tails stood up from the kitchen table, the coffee cup drained of its contents.
Leaving the dirty dishes in the sink, the duo headed to the workshop. Tails and Sonic collected the supplies, which included a toolbox, various wires, a laptop, and a utility belt, generally worn by the orange fox during long escapades.
Fastening the belt around his waist, Tails froze, analyzing their pile of gear.
“I almost forgot!” Tails exclaimed, running back to their living quarters, leaving Sonic behind. Returning only a few moments later, Tails brandished a half-eaten box of Mobian Scout™ mint chocolate chip cookies.
“For an afternoon snack,” Tails explained, throwing the box into the pile.
Chuckling under his breath, Sonic placed everything in a large duffle bag while the young kitsune went back to his workstation, grabbing his Chaos Emerald detector. He looked at the device intently, allowing the mid-morning sun to reflect off its blank, glass screen. He pressed the button at the top of the device, but nothing happened.
“As to be expected,” Tails said, looking down at his shoes, allowing his arms to drop. Sonic, hearing his little brother’s gloom reaction, patted him on the shoulder.
“I’m sure you’ll be able to get it working in no time.”
“Yeah,” Tails replied, smiling back at the blue hedgehog. “I’m sure you’re right.”
With that, Sonic grabbed the bag, and they headed for a small set of stairs in the corner of the workshop. Tails led the way, turning on the light to the lower level as his older brother hoisted the heavy bag in his arms.
“It’s like you’re taking the entire workshop with us,” Sonic said between heavy breaths, struggling to carry the duffle bag.
“Sorry, Sonic,” Tails replied, placing a hand behind his head. “But at least you won’t have it lug it any further.” The orange fox placed his hand on his signature biplane: the Tornado 2, a blue aircraft with two sets of wings, complete with yellow and red trim, Sonic’s name plastered on its side in white, and images of his twin namesakes painted on both sets of wings.
While Tails kept himself busy over the years with various projects in his workshop, none gave him greater joy than building and maintaining the Tornado 2. The sense of fulfillment and accomplishment from improving his plane always filled him with a sense of purpose, as did the vital role he played in defeating Eggman’s mechs from the comfort of his aircraft, destroying the robotic minions with the armaments installed throughout.
As Sonic loaded the bag into the rear compartment of the Tornado 2, Tails stared at the smaller blue biplane, the original Tornado, sitting just a few feet away. Memories of his initial encounter with Sonic came back to him, how he followed the speedy hedgehog around until he found the plane vacated, Sonic nowhere to be found...
*****
Having admired the retro aircraft, as well as its occupant, for some time, Tails figured he could be of great use to his role model by revamping the red biplane, seizing his chance at operating on such a fascinating machine and making improvements. At his speed, he even found time to apply a fresh coat of blue paint.
As he was finishing the final paint swipes to the upper body of the plane, standing on one of its wings, Tails heard a voice from below.
“Heya stranger,” the voice called. Startled by the sudden visitor, Tails lost his balance and banged his head against the wing as he fell to the ground below. Before he made contact, however, the blue hedgehog caught him in his arms.
Having closed his eyes and braced himself for impact, he slowly opened them when he realized that his fall was broken by a gentle force. He looked up to find the blue hedgehog staring down at him, a smile on his face. Tails returned the smile before rubbing the bump on his head.
“Oh, you’re hurt!” Sonic exclaimed, placing him on his feet to free his hands. “Here, let me take a look at that bruise.”
“Thanks, Sonic,” he replied, placing a hand behind his head.
“So, I suppose you could explain what you’re doin’ with my plane,” Sonic requested, as he finished inspecting the bump on Tails’ noggin, seeing no signs of serious damage.
“Well,” Tails replied nervously, hoping that he didn’t already ruin his first impression. “I’ve been following you around and got a glimpse of your plane, so I figured I’d make some improvements.”
“Oh yeah?” Sonic shifted his focus away from the orange kitsune’s head and toward his revamped biplane.
“Beyond regular maintenance, I increased the engine’s energy capacity by 30 percent and upgraded the thrusters. You’ll be able to go at least twice as fast, using less energy too!”
Sonic whistled in astonishment. “Not to mention the new paintjob! That was very kind of you, stranger.”
“Thanks, Sonic,” Tails replied, a glowing smile appearing on his face.
“So, you know my name,” Sonic said, rubbing his chin, “but I don’t know yours.”
“Oh, that’s right! My name is Miles Prower, but my friends just call me Tails.”
“Nice to meet ya, Tails,” Sonic said, raising his arm toward the fox for a handshake. Tails firmly clasped his hand in response. “Say, why were you following me around anyway?”
“Well,” Tails replied, looking away in embarrassment, “I just thought you were cool and…” His voice trailed off and lowered to a whisper.
“Hey, why don’t we sit down?” Sonic offered, placing his hand on the fox’s shoulder, hoping to help calm his nerves.
Sitting against a large boulder on the other side of the clearing, Tails looked up at the concerned hedgehog.
“Well,” Tails continued, playing with his gloved fingers as his face turned red. “I was thinkin’ that maybe you were looking for a friend, especially one who could maintain and pilot your plane.” The orange kitsune’s eyes turned away from Sonic, now facing his legs.
“Let’s see,” Sonic replied, placing a hand on his chin, looking up at the sky. “I suppose I could use a mechanic…and a friend.”
Tails looked up in bewilderment. “You really mean it?” He was surprised to find the person whom he idolized, the epitome of coolness, was willing to readily accept the friendship of a stranger, especially him.
“Of course!” Sonic gave his new pal a thumbs up as a warm smile formed on Tails’ face.
Before they could celebrate their new friendship, however, the duo heard a large explosion in the distance, followed by the bellowing, echoing laughter of an evil scientist.
“It’s Eggman again,” Sonic said, jumping to his feet to get a better view of the rising smoke, his face tensing up as his smile dissipated.
“You mean…the mastermind who roboticizes poor, innocent flickys?” Tails’ voice trembled at the thought of the world-renown malevolent mastermind causing destruction nearby.
“Exactly the one,” Sonic replied, placing a hand above his brow to shield his eyes from the sunlight. After getting a better view of the destruction, he turned to the young fox, who had since covered his entire head and torso with his twin namesakes for protection.
“I’m gonna go stop Eggman,” Sonic said, reaching an outstretched hand toward Tails. “Wanna help me save the day?”
The fearful fox poked his head out from behind his tails, staring up at the blue hedgehog, whose smile emanated bravery and determination, traits which infected those around him.
“You got it, Sonic.” The orange fox allowed his tails to drop to the ground as he clasped hold of Sonic’s hand. As his new friend pulled him up, the young kitsune was still shaking in fear, but he felt ready to confront Eggman all the same.
The two friends ran to the biplane, with Tails jumping into the cockpit while Sonic planted his feet on the leftmost wing.
“Whenever you’re ready!” Sonic yelled, pointing in the direction of the explosion.
“Here we go!” Tails replied as he started the plane. He guided the aircraft down the natural, beachside runway before gaining enough speed to take off, the plane leaving the ground while its wheels retracted.
And they were off, en route to their first battle against Dr. Eggman as a duo, thus forming a friendship so close that the blue hedgehog would eventually come to adopt the orange fox as his little brother.
*****
“Yo, Mobius to Tails.” Sonic waved his hands in Tails’ face, attempting to get his attention. The young kitsune was daydreaming, staring blankly toward the retro plane as he balanced his head with his arms leaning against the Tornado 2.
“Huh?” Tails shook his head to refocus and bring himself back to the present day.
“You were daydreamin’ again, weren’t you?” Sonic asked, smiling at his younger brother.
“Yeah, I guess I was,” Tails replied, placing a hand behind his head as the two laughed.
“While you were chillin’ out,” Sonic said, climbing up to the cockpit of the Tornado 2, outfitted with a front and back seat, “I finished loading up the gear, so we’re ready to go!”
The blue hedgehog lowered his hand down to Tails, allowing him to grab hold and be pulled up. Positioning himself in the driver’s seat, Tails flipped some switches, turned some nobs, and pulled some levers, bringing the biplane to life.
The young fox pressed a separate button on the dashboard of his plane, opening a large door at the end of the runway that comprised most of the workshop’s lower level.
“Fasten your seatbelt,” Tails said, as he finished preparations for the journey ahead.
“Who needs seatbelts?” Sonic said with sarcasm in his voice.
Pushing another button on his control panel, two polyester straps sprung from either side of their seats to secure them in place.
“You do,” Tails replied, lobbing the sarcasm back at him as the plane rolled down the runway.
As the biplane passed through the large door, Tails continued driving the aircraft down the cement path, which ran to the edge of the mountainside, where the ocean lay below. Of course, for an expert pilot like Tails, they would never need to worry about crashing into the water. Nevertheless, as the plane took to the air, leaving the landing strip behind, Sonic shivered as he peered down at the waves below.
“Everything will be fine, Sonic,” Tails said, with empathy in his voice. “We won’t crash, and even if we did, I always keep emergency life vests in the Tornado 2.”
Looking forward at the reassuring fox, seamlessly maneuvering the biplane up to a higher altitude, all Sonic could do was smile.
You’ve grown so much since we first met.
Juxtaposing the Tails he knew from yesteryear with the determined kitsune in the cockpit before him, Sonic took some time to reflect.
You may still be full of self-doubt, but you really shine when you’re in your element.
Sonic continued smiling as he reclined the backseat of the plane, looking up at the blue sky above, a much more welcoming sight that the perilous ocean below. The blue hedgehog placed his hands behind his head and rested his eyes.
Tails smiled as he peered at the napping hedgehog through the rearview mirror before returning his gaze to the sky above, wanting to fly high, as if to reach the highest of all the heavens. He pulled back the yoke as he raised the altitude of the biplane, flying through transparent clouds. As the excitement from the incline dissipated, Tails steadied the plane so it would maintain a consistent altitude and grabbed a corded speakerphone from the dashboard.
“Good afternoon passengers, this is your captain speaking,” Tails said in a monotone voice. “We are currently 6,000 feet above sea level and…uhhhh…traveling at a speed of 80 miles per hour.”
Sonic, who was not entirely asleep just yet, chuckled under his breath.
“We’ll be arriving to Angel Island International Airport in approximately…uhhhh…55 minutes,” Tails continued, emulating the calm, boring messages given by commercial airplane pilots to their passengers. “Please enjoy the remainder of the flight provided by Miles Prower Airlines. Our flight attendants will be available to take your order of chili dogs and soda momentarily.”
Sonic chuckled louder, finding Tails’ impersonations hilarious.
“You crack me up sometimes, ya know that?”
“Hehe,” Tails giggled, setting the phone back down on the control panel and returning his complete focus on flying to their destination.
*****
Contrary to Tails’ claim shortly after takeoff, Angel Island did not have its own airport, though it did have a long enough stretch of treeless land for the orange kitsune to safely land the Tornado 2.
“Hey Sonic,” Tails said in quiet voice, wanting to ease his older brother comfortably out of sleep. “We’re here.”
The blue hedgehog slowly opened his eyes to find Tails gazing back at him through the mirror. After rubbing the sleep from his eyes, and stretching his arms as much as he could in the enclosed safety of the cockpit, he peeked over Tails’ seat, looking at the floating island beyond.
“Alright, open the hatch!” Sonic exclaimed, removing his seatbelt in anticipation for his jump.
Tails did as he was told, pressing a large button on his dashboard that retracted the glass cover protecting the plane’s occupants from the elements. Sonic stood up from his seat and hopped towards the left-most wing, keeping his balance by bending his legs. The blue hedgehog observed the island below him, the biplane steadily descending as it made its way to ground.
“Now’s about time,” Sonic said to himself, placing one hand on the wing as if lining up for a running race. Instead of jumping off the plane right away, though, he charged his signature spin dash and rolled off the wing fast enough to prevent an untimely collision with the plane from behind.
Tails witnessed Sonic’s launch from the plane, speeding forward at breakneck speed before arcing toward the ground below, still maintaining his spherical form. The orange fox could make out the blue figure as he landed on the grassy runway, rolling down its entire length before using his legs to jump out of his ball, perform a few front flips, and gracefully land on his feet. Turning around, the hedgehog looked up at the biplane, waving at its kitsune pilot.
“Phew.”
Wiping away sweat from his forehead, Tails focused the rest of his attention back to landing the plane safely. Even though he had seen his big brother pull this stunt countless times before, he always became anxious when he performed such a reckless act, afraid that he’d miscalculate the trajectory of his fall and injure himself in the landing. Thankfully, the acrobatic hedgehog had never injured himself in this way, at least to Tails’ knowledge, so the paranoia was not based on a prior experience but, rather, a desire for his big brother to remain safe.
Tails was able to land his plane meticulously, despite the lack of cement pavement below, allowing the aircraft to roll to a steady stop. He jumped out of the plane, using his namesakes to propel him to the ground, and remotely locked the cockpit with the wireless keys stored safely in his utility belt.
“Ya know no one’s gonna steal your plane out here, right?” Sonic playfully asked.
“Yeah, I know,” Tails replied, itching his furry muzzle. “Just playing it safe is all.”
“I suppose...ya never know when Knuckles might decide to go on a little joyride,” Sonic said, the brothers sharing a laugh.
“Me, drive that hunk of junk?” said a voice coming from the wooded path leading away from the natural airstrip. Sonic and Tails turned around to find Knuckles the Echidna, the last remaining member of the Knuckles tribe, caretaker of Angel Island, and guardian of the Master Emerald. “Well if it isn’t my ol’ pals Sonic and Tails.”
“How’s it crackin’, Knucklehead?” Sonic asked.
“You know, the usual,” Knuckles replied nonchalantly, crossing his red arms. Looking towards the biplane, Knuckles redirected his attention to the orange fox.
“The Tornado 2 is looking better than ever,” he said, having joked about the plane moments earlier.
“Well, you know,” Tails responded, chuckling with embarrassment. “Proper maintenance is the key to longevity, after all.”
“So what brings you two around?” Knuckles asked.
“It’s a bit of a long story,” Tails replied. “Hey Sonic, should we get the supplies out of the plane before we tell Knuckles why we’re here?”
“Sure thing, buddy.” Sonic gave him a thumbs up as they headed to the aircraft. Tails opened the rear compartment, allowing Sonic to grab the large bag. They headed back to Knuckles and made the short walk to the Master Emerald, describing Tails’ dream and their objective during their hike along the wooded, grassy trail. Knuckles nodded his head during the entire conversation, soaking in all the brotherly duo had to say.
“Even if my dream wasn’t a vision,” Tails concluded. “We’re hoping that by studying the Master Emerald, I’ll make some progress on my Chaos Emerald detector.”
Stepping through tall grass, Knuckles raised a gloved hand to his chin, reflecting on Tails’ story.
“The controller serves to unify the chaos,” Knuckles said out loud, looking up at the blue sky in thought. “Where have I heard that before?”
“Sounds familiar to you, Knuckles?” Sonic asked, the three friends walking side-by-side along the path.
“It does, but I just can’t put my finger on it.”
Passing through leafy foliage, Knuckles lifted the thick branches obstructing the path’s exit to reveal a clearing.
“You’re more than welcome to study the Master Emerald, though,” Knuckles continued, welcoming them to his land as they stepped out of the forest.
The freshly cut grass that lay before the trio sprawled several hundred yards, the Master Emerald shrine resting on the opposite corner near the mountainside, a waterfall glistening in the backdrop. A small cabin could also be seen near the Master Emerald.
“Since when did you build a house, Knucklehead?” Sonic asked.
“What, you think I should sleep outside all day?” Knuckles replied, placing his hands on his hips.
“It’s not like that, Knuckles. It’s just that you’re inseparable from that giant rock. Even being away from the shrine for a few hours makes you antsy.”
“That may be true, but I can still afford to sleep indoors when the weather is bad, and having running water and refrigeration is surprisingly convenient!”
Sonic and Tails snickered at Knuckles’ naïveté as they approached the shrine, now merely feet away.
“We’re here,” Knuckles announced, walking up the stairs as he beckoned his friends to follow.
Sonic tagged along, but Tails paused, fishing through his utility belt for the Chaos Emerald detector before heading up the stone shrine himself. Lifting his legs slowly each step, Tails vividly recalled the dream that felt so real to him the prior night, and how the stone stairs’ imperfections and signs of wear seemed identical to what he remembered from his dream.
Focusing his attention away from the steps, he intently stared at the empty glass screen of his device, holding a finger above the power button, nervous to try the detector. When Tails arrived at the top of the shrine, he walked past Sonic and Knuckles and planted his feet inches away from the large emerald.
“No time like the present,” Tails said, quoting his older brother as he clicked the power button. The screen remained empty. Expecting this to be the case, the orange kitsune stored the defective device back in his pocket and placed both of his palms on the mysterious gem.
“Hey, you know I just polished that—” Knuckles began to say, only to be stopped by Sonic, who placed a hand on his shoulder and shook his head, hinting to the red echidna that Tails needed some uninterrupted time with the Master Emerald.
Tails only felt a slight warm sensation from the glossy gemstone, a far cry from the energy that pulsated from the Master Emerald and radiated through his body during his dream the prior evening.
“Figures,” Tails said to himself as his downcast face dropped to his feet, allowing his hands to slip off the emerald and dangle on either side of his body.
“Hey Tails, I think I may know what’ll cheer you up,” Knuckles said, reaching in his dreadlocks to procure a green Chaos Emerald.
“Woah, Knuckles,” Tails began as he walked toward the red echidna, staring at what appeared to be a downsized replica model of the Master Emerald. “Where’d you find it?”
“Ohh, it was easy enough,” Knuckles replied, itching his nose with his free hand. “After Sonic used the Chaos Emeralds during his last showdown with Dr. Eggman, all seven of ‘em scattered around the globe. I was guarding the Master Emerald at the time, and I noticed this baby soar right over Angel Island.” He paused to look up at the sky, tracing an arcing path with a gloved hand. “From there, it was just a simple matter of following the trail. Thankfully, the emerald didn’t land far from the island, and I glided most of the way down anyway.”
While the red echidna lacked Sonic’s speed and Tails’ intellect and flying abilities, Knuckles had two traits going for him: an uncanny level of strength that allowed him to break the toughest boulders with his spiked fists and the ability to glide from a tall height, allowing him to travel great distances with little effort.
“That’s so cool,” Tails replied, genuinely excited about his friend’s good fortune, almost forgetting about his own problems.
“Here.” Knuckles brought the Chaos Emerald closer to the orange fox. “You take it. Hopefully this’ll help you fix your detector doohickey.”
Tails stared at the glowing green emerald in awe as Knuckles placed it in his right paw. The kitsune raised it a bit closer to his face, transfixed by the beauty of the mystical stone. As with the Master Emerald, Tails didn’t feel a strong surge of energy radiating from the gem, but the slight warmth that the emerald gave out, coupled with the light green glow caused by its close proximity to the Master Emerald, as well as a pinch of placebo, gave the young fox a renewed sense of hope.
“Thank you, Knuckles,” Tails said, looking back up at the red echidna, determination in his eyes. “I promise this gift won’t go to waste.”
“Hey, who said you could keep it?” Sonic and Tails laughed at Knuckles’ defensive response, with the red echidna joining in shortly after. “Consider it a loan to help with your research.”
“I’ll make good use of it.” The orange fox raised his fist in determination.
“Hey Knux,” Sonic said, setting the duffle bag down by the Master Emerald and turning to face the echidna. “Let’s say we go spar for a bit while we leave Tails to his work?”
“Oh, I’m game.” Knuckles pressed his fist against the palm of his other hand, signaling his enthusiasm to the blue hedgehog.
“Let us know if you need any help,” Sonic said to the young fox, waving from behind as the friendly rivals ran down the stone steps of the shrine to hone their combat skills in the clearing below.
“Will do,” Tails replied, waving back as he watched the two throw their first punches from the safety of the shrine before turning his attention back to his defective detector, pulling it out of his pocket once again.
Clicking the power button, the device failed to track the Chaos Emerald in his other hand, another expected outcome.
“Well,” Tails said, as he cracked his knuckles and unzipped the duffle bag, pouring its contents to the ground.
“Time to get started.”
*****
“Wooahhooohoohooo.”
The bellowing laughter of Dr. Ivo Robotnik, colloquially known as Eggman, could be heard echoing through his secret base, various computers, monitors, and hi-tech gadgets surrounding the perimeter of the spacious corridor in which he stood. He continued laughing while stroking his long, orange mustache, a color that matched surprisingly well with the bright red jacket covering his portly figure.
“This is my most dastardly deed, yet!” Eggman announced, speaking to his robotic henchmen, Decoe and Bocoe.
Both serving as personal servants to the evil doctor, the machines were humanoid in shape and programmed with their own artificial intelligence. Decoe was a bit taller and thinner, his metallic body a dull yellow hue, whereas Bocoe was shorter, wider in stature, and gray in color. Both were busy working on a large circular, tubular machine that stood in the center of the room, seven emerald-shaped slots strewn across its control panel.
“Eggman is really working us to the bone,” Decoe said to his brother, wiping away non-existent sweat from his metallic brow.
“If I don’t get a break soon, my body will begin breaking down,” Bocoe replied in agreement, dropping his wrench and standing up for a stretch break. “If this keeps up, I’ll need to call my union rep!”
“Quiet, you numbskulls!” Eggman yelled, wondering why he ever gave the two robots distinct personalities. Decoe and Bocoe, knowing what may happen to them if they continued ignoring their master, turned quickly to his direction and stood at attention.
“Very good.” Eggman leaned back in his chair as he spun it around, staring into a computer monitor while typing away. “Now, as I was saying, this is my most dastardly deed yet!”
“I have to admit,” Decoe said to his robotic companion, Eggman lost in a sea of bellowing laughter, “while all of Eggman’s plans fail miserably, this one may actually have a fighting chance.”
“I agree,” Bocoe replied. “The hardest part will be to gather all seven Chaos Emeralds to power this thing.”
“And that is exactly what I plan on doing,” Eggman interrupted, standing up from his chair and walking past his servants to face the large machine at the center of the room. “Once I have all of the Chaos Emeralds, I will be unstoppable!”  
“Psst,” Bocoe whispered to his counterpart as Eggman continued his maniacal laughter. “Is this the part where Eggman outlines the plan that we already know?”
“And now for my plan!” Eggman exclaimed, as if on cue.
“Seems that way,” Decoe replied, making his voice even more monotone than usual, unafraid to hide his apathy.
“When I have all of the emeralds, all I’ll need to do is feed them to my energy amplifier, and I’ll have unlimited power!”
Decoe and Bocoe sat on the floor, at least thankful to have a break of sorts.
“Each individual Chaos Emerald possesses untold levels of power,” the doctor continued, rolling out an old fashion chalkboard with seven crudely drawn gems in its center, emphasizing his child-like drawings with a pointing stick. “Their energy climbs exponentially when brought together, but when coupled with my eggzzellent energy amplifier, I will have enough power to finally dispose of that meddlesome hedgehog and establish the Eggman Empire.” He grabbed a stick of chalk and began viciously crossing out a picture of Sonic standing next to a drawing of the amplifier below the emeralds.
After clapping his hands together to remove the chalk dust from his gloves, a cloud of the white powder forming in front of him, he turned around to notice his robotic minions sleeping peacefully on the ground.
“Get up, you useless scrap metal, before I send you to the junk yard!” The metallic duo awoke and jumped back up, raising a hand to their foreheads as if giving a salute.  
“And now, a demonstration,” Eggman said, making sure that Decoe and Bocoe were paying attention. He pulled two Chaos Emeralds, one red and one purple, out of his jacket pocket, stroking his mustache. The doctor placed the two emeralds into their designated slots in the energy amplifier. He pressed a red button, causing the machine to roar to life, static buzzing around the mystical gems. The humming of the machine grew louder as the ground began to shake, causing the two robots to hold each other in fear.
“All right,” Eggman said. “I think we’ve had about enough.” He pressed the button again, allowing the energy amplifier to cool down. Decoe and Bocoe let go of each other, sighing in relief.
“Just you wait, hedgehog,” Eggman said out loud. “Once I have all the emeralds, I’ll be unstoppable.”
“And you will be toast.”
*****
Chapter 4
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Text
Okay I got one Yes so have this introduction to Sadie Sawyer
“Okay, everyone out of the fucking car.”
“What? Why?”
“Because you’re being too fucking loud. Go burn off some energy while I get gas.”
“I don’t wanna go in some stupid gas station. I spend all day in stupid gas stations.” Otis gets out of the car and yanks open Babys door.
“There is a whole fucking town here. Go find something to do and let me have a moment of peace to fucking think while I fill up the car.”
“Fine.” Baby sighs and scoots out of the car, pulling Ida behind her. “There’s nothing to do around here, this place is abandoned.”
“Than why is the gas pump working? Get out of here.” Baby and Ida headed off away from the gas station. Sadie got out of the front seat and followed them.
“Do you think there’s any food around here?” Ida called.
“Probably in the gas station,” Sadie called back. Unlike the other girls, she found comfort in the familiarity of her surroundings.
“Than go on back there and get us something!” Baby suggested. Sadie stuck her middle finger up, but the others didn’t see. She did turn around and head back to the gas station, but she didn’t plan on getting anything for Baby and Ida.
“Hey,” Otis called out when he saw her coming back. “You going inside?” She nodded. “Take this and pay for the gas.” Otis practically shoved a wad of money into her hands.
“You pay for gas now?” She questioned. Otis made a face at her. There was nobody inside the gas station, which suggested that they probably wouldn’t be paying for gas after all. Sadie looked around the inside of the store, taking in the merchandise lining the walls. It was mostly car parts and accessories such as air fresheners and steering wheel covers, but there was a decent selection of chips and candy. The soda options, on the other hand, were just enough to piss Sadie off. “Are you fucking kidding me?” She mumbled, staring at the Pepsi cooler. The door opened behind her, and she thought it was Otis.
“I’ll take your gas money.” Sadie whipped around at the voice that definitely wasn’t Otis’. “I talked to your brother out there. Said you came in to pay.”
“He’s not my brother,” Sadie commented, leaning back against the counter. She was sizing the man up. “I don’t need any more of those.”
“You got alot of brothers?”
“Four. All older.”
“I got two. Younger, but me and Vincent are twins.”
“Yeah, we’ve got a set of twins too.” Sadie finally took her eyes away from the man to look out at Otis. He was leaning against the hood of the car, staring off into the town. Probably watching Ida and Baby.
“I’ll take that gas money now.” Sadie rolled her eyes.
“I don’t know if you deserve it. See, we stopped for refreshments and your drink selection is… subpar.” The man chuckled.
“You not a Pepsi drinker?”
“My family owns a barbecue joint in the middle of nowhere in Texas. If I ever thought of drinking Pepsi they’d shoot me on the spot.”
“Texas? What brings you out this way?”
“Baby and Idas anniversary. Taking a road trip. Although I don’t know why they had to drag us along.”
“Baby and Ida? Your sisters?”
“Ida is. Baby is her girlfriend. You didn’t see ‘em running around out there?” The man shook his head. “That’s suspicious. Means they’re up to something.”
“Will I have to bill you for property damage too?”
“Not like this place is exactly bright and shiny anyways.” Something flashed between Sadie and the man as they looked at each other other the counter. “You told me your brothers name. Now tell me yours.”
“Bo. You?”
“Sadie. Sadie Sawyer.” Bo nodded.
“You said he wasn’t one of your brothers. Is he just your driver?” He gestured out the door towards Otis, who was still perched on the hood of the car.
“Yes. He’s Baby’s brother, actually.”
“She got a lot of brothers too?”
“Three or four. They’re always coming and going, it’s hard to keep track.” Bo laughed again.
“Well, Sadie. I like you. So you can keep the gas money.” He leaned closer to Sadie across the counter, inches from her face. “As long as you keep it for yourself.”
“Like I’d give it back to Otis. He broke my knee last year, he owes me.” Bo nodded his approval.
“You still looking for a Coke? I think my brother has some in the fridge up at the house.”
“Alright. I’ll wait right here.”
“Why don’t you come on up? Give your sister something to talk about on the drive from here.”
“I like the way you think.” Sadie waited for Bo to round the counter and reach the door, than she grabbed a pair of pliers from the counter and slipped them in her pocket. She wasn’t stupid, she knew how to lure people in. She was just hoping to have a little bit of fun before moving onto their next stop, which better have been a roadside diner with greasy bacon and lots of Coke. Otis turned to look at the sound of the door opending, and his raised his eyebrows at Sadie as Bo held it open for her. She stopped next to him.
“You comin’?” Bo asked when she stopped.
“Just gotta tell Otis where I’m going first. Don’t want him talking too.” Bo nodded and leaned against the side of the next building, thankfully out of earshot. “He said he’s got two brothers. I know one of 'em is here somewhere. You feeling up for a fight?”
“Always. You got your knife?”
“It’s in the glove compartment. Let Ida have it. I grabbed some pliers.”
“Pliers? That’s it? You’re gonna fight this guy off with pliers?”
“I’ve done more with less. So you got my back?”
“I’ll be right behind you.” Sadie pushed herself off the car and joined Bo again on the sidewalk.
“So who else lives around here?” She asked, loud enough for Otis to hear.
“Just me and my brothers. Me and Vincent, mostly. But Lester is around sometimes.” Sadie glanced casually over her shoulder, and Otis gave her a thumbs up. He was sure they could take these guys.
“So you run the gas station?”
“I run the gas station, Vincent runs the museum.”
“You get alot of customers?”
“Depends on the season.”
“I guess it’s the same everywhere. Summer is always the busiest.” Bo looked at Sadie with interest. “We own a gas station too.” Ida and Baby were on the other side of the street, staring into the window of a pet store. They didn’t seem to notice Bo and Sadie walking by. When they reached the house, Bo let Sadie in first, than pretended he wasn’t locking the door behind them.
“Kitchen is right through there.” He pointed. “I’m gonna head to the bathroom first.” Sadie nodded. She took her time to get to the kitchen, and she was slightly disappointed to find Bo leaning against the counter when she arrived, holding a knife. He was making this way too easy. For a split second, Bos face showed confusion. He was obviously expecting her to run, or be afraid. He recovered quickly, and lunged towards her. Sadie ducked easily, and landed a solid punch in his stomach. As long as one of the brothers didn’t show up too soon, she’d be able to handle this herself. While Bo was doubled over, he grabbed Sadies braid and yanked her to the ground. Her hand was already in her back pocket, reaching for the pliers. When he pulled his foot back to kick her, she snipped the back of Bos ankle and rolled out of the way before he could collapse on top of her. He hadn’t expected her to fight back, and if he had, he hadn’t expected her to be this good at it. If she had been a normal person, she would’ve ran; taken off down the hill towards Otis and sped off in the car before Bo could gather himself enough to chase after them. But she killed for a living, and seeing as how she had been on this stupid trip for a week already, and they still had nearly a month ahead of them, she didn’t want to get rusty. She wasn’t worried about Bo fighting back, he had been caught too off gaurd for that, but she wasn’t used to killing and not getting to wrap the remains up and stick them in the fridge afterwards. She decided it was time to bring in reinforcements.
“Otis!” He must have been right outside, because a window shattered and he appeared in the living room in seconds.
“Are you okay?” She seemed remarkably in control of the situation, now straddling Bo on the kitchen floor with both the pliers and his knife in one of her hands, and the other around his throat.
“Go find me a cooler. I don’t like wasting food.” Shaking his head, Otis wandered deeper into the house.
“Food?” Bo questioned. It sounded like he already knew the answer. “You’ve done this before.” He had stopped reaching for her hand, and as a compromise she loosened her grip on his throat. Not that it was doing much good to begin with, her hand was too small to wrap around his neck with any significance, it was really an attempt to keep him from sitting up and biting her.
“I’m used to the kill coming to me, not the other way around.”
“Are they in on it?” She knew he meant Otis and Baby.
“Gas stations and roadside attractions seem to make good lures.” Bo almost laughed.
“You think we could make a truce? Share tips and tricks instead of… whatever this is?” A loud banging noise from somewhere in the house caused Bo and Sadie to snap their heads up. “Maybe keep our brothers from killing each other?” Sadie raised her eyebrows. “I know he’s not your brother. But Vincent is mine and he’s definitely good at what he does.” Sadie relinquishes and stands up, even offering Bo a hand. She keeps her grip on the weapons. Bo points towards the direction of the noise and Sadie takes off, Bo limps after her.
“Hey, boys!” Otis has a man with long black hair in a headlock in the middle of a hallway, and the man has a knife pointed at Otis’ gut. “Knock it off. Otis, we’re playing nice.” Bo stops behind Sadie and gestures to Vincent. He drops the knife, and Otis backs away.
“You make a new friend?” Otis asks, almost incredulous.
“Go get the lesbians. We should talk.”
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readbythestarlight · 5 years
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c2e84
Wow, that was a surpassingly normal ad!
Oh boy here we go lore drop!
Therizdune the chained oblivion who is chained at the bottom of the abyss
"He’s basically the boogeyman" if the boogeyman was a HORRIBLE ELDRITCH MONSTER
...IS the boogeyman a horrible eldritch monster?! Oh god.
[[MORE]]
This is great and awful like terrible abyssal eldritch things that can creep into the world through gaps and rifts encourages people to be violent and awful
Also I’m so satisfied that the chains actually ended up being significant
Okay so Yussah knows a guy who we know knows Trent, so... that’s not cool. I mean o totally trust Yussah now it’s not that, it’s just can we trust Ormid?
So not all the Cerberus assembly is bad re: Yussah. But like he’s basically a hermit living in his tower, yeah? Who doesn’t go into the Empire? So like how out of touch is he?
"Trent seems just creepy" that’s putting it mildly
Money? Ball bearings? xD
Oh nice some of the Halas money
Oh Nott honey
Fjord being like "Nott? Caleb please talk to your goblin."
And they’re just all discussing it in the background
NOTT DO NOT
oh boy don’t like that
Oh dear...
"Your FACE is stupid" oh Nott
Lock the gem away somewhere
"You’ll still work at it and try?" Oh honey of course he will
I like how they handled that. They didn’t put Nott down, they gently reminded her that Halas can’t be trusted.
Oh I hope that doesn’t trigger Caleb
And I hope that didn’t just fuck them over with Halas maybe
Cad’s like "can we not?" and then just silencing everyone who keeps trying to talk to him
Y’all need to call your OTHER wizard friend (aka HOTT BOI) to let him know you’re fine and not dead or anything cause this is probably the longest he’s gone without hearing from you
"Everything’s been smoothed over" I wonder if Dairon had anything to do with that
I wonder where she is...
Also this is late cause he said it like ages ago but I love Cad’s little bits of homely wisdom, like the whole holes in a bucket metaphor.
PLATINUMMMMMMM
A WHOLE SATCHEL
TIME TO BUY A KEEP Y’ALL
Kidding I like the xhorhaus
Holy SHIT
21,000 gold??
That puts them at 350 platinum which is like 3,500 apiece NICE
Please def check in with Orli I miss him
I’m gonna insist they all get either matching M9 tattoos or Captain tusktooth tattooes
ORLIIIII
Oh my
Yeah a charisma bump is a good choice Nott xD
YOU ALL BETTER GET MATCHING TATTOOS
"chaos crew" lol
Imagine the stories those "new faces" have heard of the M9 from the older crew
1312 gold not bad!
Fuck y’all I love Orli! I missed him. I hope Fjord retires and goes back to sailing with Orli and the crew someday.
F: "Can I ask, how painful is this... procedure?"
O: "oh-ho-ho! Quite."
Oh lord
B: "Is that infected? Is that infected?!"
O: "No, he’s just a.....................Pansy."
Girls day!
Ohhh I like that idea Nott! Can’t wait to see the new art of that.
I like the start of the idea but the "like the Traveler’s hugging me" is slightly creepy to me. Idk.
BeauJester shippers just got a gift xD
Oh... Molly’s all seeing eye tattoo. My heart. Taliesin looks really touched.
Omg a nat1
Ouch fuck Matt you didn’t have to describe that
Matt’s like "here’s your pretty tattoo Nott, here’s your very lovely tattoo Jester, here’s your TOTALLY BOMBASS tattoo that goes all the way up the BACK OF YOUR SKULL Beau"
like I’m not saying Matt plays favorites but his wife’s character definitely got the coolest tattoo
Boy talk over fish and chips heck yeah
Mmm gonna get some deep talk from Caleb?
Caleb expressing that he feels like maybe they’ve been brought together for a purpose <3
Cad telling him he’s believed Caleb was meant for something important since the beginning
Caleb the green bean farmer
"The god’s plant us, plant their will and their desire, and we move towards the fruit we’re meant for bear for them." Aw that’s... sweet, Cad.
Fjord being like "idk man I’m still figuring it out" what a mood
Caleb admitting he feels like he should run away
"I have started to forget what it was like not being with you people. And we are missing one, I am stuck on the fact that we are still missing one."
I wish I was fast enough to transcribe word for word this conversation because it’s excellent
I like Fjord’s question of "when you know, do you run away or do the right thing knowing it could kill you"
C: "You two are alright."
Cad: "We’re getting better."
F: "So are you, you know, you should give yourself credit."
C: "Mm..."
Cad: "I know... just think about it."
(Wow my old Widofjord feelings just came back with a vengeance.)
Cad adding in his own encouraging words about how Caleb is growing and becoming better made me happy too
C: "I hate tattoos."
Nott in the distance: AHHHH
C: "they’re just not for me."
Cad: "they’re frowned upon in my family."
And then they go see the girls
"We brought fish and chips—what they fuck"
All the Jester ships are eating well tonight
I’m so glad Jester finally got her cool tattoo
Y’all don’t want to see mom and Yeza and Luc?
lol Jester "I didn’t tell my mom about the tattoo"
"I’ve seen parents find out their kids had tattoos literally at the funeral"
I literally could not tell if that was Cad or Taliesin sharing
You guys didn’t even say bye to Orli! YOU MONSTERS
Boy that talks blurb with Brian talk about Caleb is GOOD SHIT MAN
No Brian don’t stop please go on and on about Caleb
lol Matt getting himself in the face with the paper
I knew Dairon was the one who got them out of trouble <3
EXPOSITOR OUTFIT AYYYY
just got new official art and now Beau gets a new outfit and the girls get tattoos xD
B: "I apologize"
M9: "wwwwwoooooaaaaahhh"
And library access again yay!
HEYYYY DAIRON
Beau gets to be a role model now lol
Oh yikes... selling out the Kryn to the King... don’t like that
Vence... NewTHEYLESS??
I don’t like that
Everyone: *excited freaking about Beau’s expositor room*
Cad, a good 10 seconds behind: "You had a monk bunk."
Dairon admitting she realized her prejudices against the Kryn were wrong. You know what that is? Growth.
They’re all so proud of Expositor Beau
Caleb trying to do "normal" accents is amazing lol
I don’t want him to be split from the group but I definitely understand his concern
Scary world ending lore oh boy
Oh god I forgot about the gentleman being here...
YES NO DO NOT GO ALONE that’s a dumb idea honey Jester please
N about J: "well she convides in everybody. Just says whatever she wants to say all the time."
This whole Beau and Nott conversation is amazing xD
Fjord and Jester: talking
Beau and Nott: talking
Caduceus walking along and enjoying the group communicating and sharing their feelings
Is he an earth genasi?
That’s the second time another wizard has called Yussah a fool, poor guy
I like how Ormid’s like "who the fuck are these people" but he also trusts Yussah enough to listen to them that’s nice
Hmmm I don’t like that’s awfully suspicious
WHISPERSSSSS
He keeps coming back to the beacon and I don’t like it
So like.. what if he is in on the whole thing and is trying to steer them away from looking deeper into the beacon?
Jester honey why you go and name drop Trent?? Like fuck.
Also interesting that both the King and his council have been more aggressive and pro-war lately, and the Bright Queen is also bent on the conflict in a way that I’ve personally felt doesn’t seem to quite mesh with her character, it definitely lends towards the idea that they’re being manipulated
Ormid’s a bit of a dick, although I guess I can understand, they’re not explaining themselves super well
Hng idk how I feel about Ormid and I’m not sure that I like that he now knows Dairon is working to get an audience with the king
But then again I’m bad about telling which NPCs are trustworthy and which aren’t.
Ormid’s face when they mentioned the cat OH MY GOD
okay fine god now I have to trust him
"I know we are talking about very important things but" I’m dying
Y’all fixing to get a symbol of the Cerberus Assembly damn
I don’t necessarily LIKE Ormid not entirely trust him but he’s already
Insight check on Sprinkles to see if he wants to go back with Jester aw
lol getting pet advice from him maybe I like him a little bit
PUMAT SOOOOL
it’s been so long!
PUMAAAAT SOL
Guys I have missed Pumat so much he just brings me so much joy
Fetch quest for Pumat DO IT PLZ
Oh
Wait
Basilisk oil that’s maybe not a great idea
GO SAILING TO THE ISLANDS
They gotta go to islands for Traveler Con right is that close?
"Let me get it from CritRole stats" lol
Oh thank god health potions
Armor boost oil is neat (plus 1 to AC isn’t bad) but ouch it’s pricy
I love that they CANNOT keep money they get it and then they spend it. It’s #relatable
Uh.... what’s happening to my boy?!
Caduceus?!
MATT WHAT ARE YOU DOING TO MY BOY??
45 pats slashing??
WHAT IS HAPPENING
CADUCEUS
oh NO
fuck no
Is there a rift near?!
WHAT THE FUCK
The Inevitable End?
WHAT IS HAPPENING?
Evil assassin person??
45 points of damage fuck
This is bad
Sam: “WE’RE SHOPPING MATT” MOOD
23 doesn’t hit?!
Oh they’re in trouble
God DAMN I’m freaked out omg
Does he have The Invulnerable Vangrent as a map??
God what a cliffhanger
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bangcrispy97 · 5 years
Text
Community Service - JiCheol
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The only reason that Jihoon came out with Soonyoung was because he didn’t want to see the male pouting, whining and then shouting that Jihoon hated the environment.
Jihoon did not hate the environment, thank you very much, he just hated being outside.  He’d much rather stay inside, in his room, playing LoL on his computer is all.
And besides, he was just picking up trash.  How hard could it be?  They’d be wearing gloves and they’d be getting water.  Which… water wasn’t the greatest thing to entice people to volunteer with, but it was appreciated.
“I can’t wait, I’m so glad you’re coming with, Jihoonie!”  Soonyoung was loud as he drove them to the river that they’d be cleaning.  Jihoon never did trust Soonyoung behind the wheel very much, but Jihoon didn’t have a car, preferring to take the bus. “Yeah, whatever.”  The younger looked out of the window, seeing the familiar city passing by. “Seriously!  The guys at work were worried that nobody would show, and if you’re coming, even that makes a difference!”  Soonyoung was so loud, and he kept glancing away from the road to look at Jihoon as he spoke.  IT had the younger on edge. Jihoon nodded, hoping that Soonyoung would get a hint and shut up and actually focus on the road, but no such luck.  Jihoon was nervous the whole way to the area around the large stream that they were clearing of litter. Admittedly, Jihoon was impressed with how many people showed up, and Soonyoung seemed to be extremely pleased.  He was always smiling, but this smile on his face was somehow wider, betraying his joy. They parked and Jihoon got out quickly, as if Soonyoung would torture him with more driving if he didn’t. The two boys made their way to the group of people who had gathered to help out, waiting to start.  They were passing out gloves and there was a sign-in sheet being circulated as well.  Soonyoung went to greet some of his co-workers, leaving Jihoon to stand awkwardly on his own.  He didn’t know anyone other than Soonyoung, and although a few people looked to be Jihoon’s age, there was a large amount of people older than his 22 years. Jihoon was able to sign in eventually, and he got a pair of black disposable gloves as well as a trash bag while he waited for directions. Already, he could see bits of trash in the banks of the park river, stuck in roots and in greenery.  It disappointed him. Before everyone was set off to do their own things, and to collect stuff (apparently there was a competition of weight of trash found?), there was a group photo taken.  Jihoon had to wonder why. And then everyone was off.  Soonyoung very much had ditched him. Sighing, Jihoon took off to collect litter by himself.  He took out his earbuds and put one in his ear so that if there were any other directions later, he would be able to hear them.  It was warm out, and Jihoon was glad he’d worn shorts - even if he did feel like he looked like a child. It had been maybe five minutes before someone approached him to talk.  It wasn’t Soonyoung, and Jihoon didn’t know if he’d have preferred that. “Hey, what brings you to this?”  The wording felt awkward and Jihoon looked up from the chip bag he was attempting to free from the caked dirt of the riverbank. Fuck, he was pretty. Jihoon blinked up at the boy dumbly for a moment or two before he caught himself.  “My friend dragged me… why?”  Why did this beautiful man want to know about him?  He was squatting, looking very much like an elementary student - maybe the stranger thought he was a child?  That couldn’t be good. The handsome man smiled, though Jihoon hadn’t said anything funny, he didn’t think.  The man started to collect rubbage near Jihoon and the short male was a little on edge. The two worked in silence before the man spoke up again.  “My name’s Seungcheol.”  He smiled, looking up at Jihoon, and man, was the short male breathless at it. “Jihoon.”  He felt ridiculous.  Why couldn’t he speak?  He felt so awkward and like he was going to scare the handsome stranger away. Suddenly, Jihoon was tripping on a root as he was moving further down the bank, having cleared his area pretty well.  “Shit!”  He had cut himself, he easily discovered.  Also, Seungcheol had seen him fall. “Oh man, are you okay?”  Seungcheol was suddenly at Jihoon’s side, looking to see the damage.  “Oh, shoot.  Uhm I think there’s a first-aid kit back over where the group was, lemme help you over there…”  And suddenly (again), Jihoon was in a stranger’s arms, being carried.  Though Jihoon wasn’t particularly heavy, he was still a grown man.  A grown man who was blushing at feeling Seungcheol’s muscles as he carried him. “Sorry, it’s fastest..”  Seungcheol chuckled, moving effortlessly even with Jihoon’s added weight. The small male nodded, quiet. Soon, Jihoon was being set down on a park bench near where everyone had first met up, and honestly he was a bit disappointed to lose the contact with Seungcheol.  The strong male went to grab the first-aid kit, and Jihoon was grateful.  He wasn’t sure why this stranger was being so nice. “I’m not a kid by the way.”  Jihoon spoke up, hoping Seungcheol wasn’t just being nice because he thought he was 12. “Well, I thought you weren’t.  With your voice, and carrying you just now, you’re too heavy to be a kid.  How old are you?”  Seungcheol spoke as he sat on the ground in front of Jihoon, opening the kit before glancing up at him for an answer.  Jihoon couldn’t stop his blush. “22.”  He found himself hoping that Seungcheol was close in age, and not like a teenager or something. “Oh thank god.”  Seungcheol chuckled, sitting back for a moment before he was gently cleaning Jihoon’s wound.  “I’m 23.” Jihoon noticed a smile growing on his own face as he watched the older work.  “So had you been planning on hitting on me or something?”   Seungcheol’s ears turned red and Jihoon chuckled.  “I mean, I dunno,” he sputtered as the smaller looked on.  “You’re really cute...did you wanna like, uh, go on a date or something?” Jihoon blinked and shook his head.  “No, not really.  Not now at least.  I wouldn’t mind trading numbers though.  I like to know someone a little more before I go on a date with them.”  Seungcheol looked up at Jihoon, a little taken aback, but charmed by the younger.  He was like a different person when he was more confident in a situation, and he liked a comfortable Jihoon so far.  He nodded, having finished putting a bandaid on Jihoon’s cut.  “Of course.  Yeah, I get it.  Did, uh, do you think you can keep working?”  Jihoon nodded. “I can probably walk by myself though?”  He chuckled and Seungcheol bobbed his head in agreement, going to grab another pair of gloves since he’d taken his dirty ones off to help clean Jihoon up. The both of them then (slowly) made their way back to their abandoned trash bags.  Nobody else had gone that far away and they could continue where they had left off.  Now that Jihoon didn’t think that Seungcheol was some creepy kid-lover, the conversation flowed easily between them. “So, I’m here with a friend who works for the city, why are you here?”  Jihoon asked finally, curious.  Seungcheol chuckled. “Uh, it’s court mandated.”  Jihoon froze and looked at Seungcheol who looked embarrassed.  “I’d been having a bad day at work and an officer saw me flick a cigarette butt away… so I got fined, but since I can’t afford the full fine, I appealed to trade community service to lighten the price.”  He shrugged.  “The thing is, I don’t smoke all that often, just when I’m really stressed, and that was the first time I’d done that.” Jihoon nodded.  “I’m glad you explained.  I don’t know how I’d explain to Soonyoung how I got the number of a hardened criminal.”  He chuckled, smiling at his jest. Seungcheol shook his head, also smiling.  “Needless to say, I won’t be doing that again.” Jihoon was finally able to get Seungcheol’s number before he and Soonyoung left, and the whole car ride home, Jihoon was texting him as Soonyoung bragged about having found some really heavy mattress thing. A few weeks later had Soonyoung handing Jihoon a printed article with the picture they’d taken before the collection at the top.  They’d won the weight competition, and Jihoon was sure to take the article to show off to Seungcheol at their second date that week.
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alcheminary · 5 years
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uhhhhh yeaaaaaah I’ve got an order for some edwin featuring parental roy and riza, hold the royai?
merry new year, @bifullmetal, I’m your secret santa for 2018!! I’m sorry this is late, I was held up by some travel plans that popped off a little earlier than I thought they would
you asked for basically anything, so my plan going in here was to deliver a wintery and modern spin on the classic mermaid au fic. of course it ran away from me, so now you get a wip of a fic, and that just seems like a bum present so I draw art to make up for that, and gosh dude I just hope you like it
thanks to @fullmetalsecretsanta for putting this event together for 2018, you guys are awesome, for sure
anyway, here’s a sneak peek at the first chapter!
(edit: sorry for the extra late posting, I saved this to my drafts again on accident which is kind of the most embarrassing mistake I could possibly make)
“The Sea Bleeds Blue” Chapter 1 (prototype)
“... the man is reported to have been under the influence of alcohol during the time of his encounter…”
The tiny little TV blares throughout the house from its perch on the kitchen counter, a feat much more impressive in possibly any other structure that isn’t a cramped beach house. Like, seriously cramped. The kind of cramped where you can barely lay flat across the floor without hitting a wall.
It’s not like Winry Rockbell hates her grandma’s beach house. In a way, she gets it. You get older, your health starts to go, the warm weather is easy on your joints and the air is just so much easier to breathe compared to city smog. And everyone else your age has the same idea, too. When you have a nest egg and no other obligations, why not? Why not just live at the beach, wake up every morning to the soothing ebb of waves, sip your coffee on a porch overlooking the scenery, be a family vacation destination in and of yourself, and just wait to die?
That’s her whole bugbear with the thing actually, now that she thinks about it. People come to the beach to die.
She blinks hard, reaches for her wire cutters, and tries not to think about it much more than that.
“... officials like park ranger Jean Havoc however say the injuries are more likely to have been caused by a particularly territorial sea lion,” the newscaster on the TV continues, her voice tinny and distorted by the on-board speakers. Honestly, she could fix those if Gran would let her...
“He might’ve been feedin’ ‘em, harassin’ ‘em… Sea lions ain’t known to be gracious about their personal space, so all it takes is one loud, persistent jerkwad to ruin their whole day. Heck, mine too! Hahaha.”
“The man was admitted to the hospital this morning, and is expected to make a full recovery…”
Paninya scoffs, loud enough to startle Winry just as she’s threading the headlight through its socket. Luckily a less delicate part of this process. “Sea lion my butt. I’ve bounced frisbees off those things and they haven’t moved.”
She pauses as she considers that image. “Please tell me you don’t make field goals out of sea lions on purpose.”
“Of course not! They’re just… big. And bouncy. And all over? You can’t go down the boardwalk without tripping on them. Like, seriously, is there like a sea lion sanctuary nearby or something? Don’t they migrate?” Paninya asks, her nose scrunching up.
“Uh, I think Mr. Hughes might—”
“No, wait, that’s beside the point,” she interrupts. “And the point here is that I’m not buying what that park ranger is selling.” Her deep brown eyes watch Winry expectantly.
Winry puts down the wires she was futzing with and turns to give her a long-suffering smile, resigning herself to the next few minutes being completely unproductive. “Alright, detective, give me the scoop. What’s really going on in Brightly Cove?”
Paninya always gets this wild grin on her face when she does this. The corner of her smile lifts up just so, her eyes glint, and she squares her shoulders like she’s the hardboiled crime noir star the situation needs.
“Okay, so,” she starts, “You saw the gashes on the guy, right?”
Winry shrugs. “A little bit.”
“Okay, well, they’re completely inconsistent with a sea lion attack. We’d be looking for bites and puncture wounds, and he got approximately uhh, NONE of those. So either sea lions have mutated to have razor sharp claws in the past week, or it wasn’t a sea lion and the park ranger is bullshitting us to cover up what it REALLY was.”
“Right, I’m following so far.”
“So, let’s set the scene.” She stands up to stalk around the incredibly small kitchen table toward Winry. “You’re a dumb tourist that came to the beach in the winter. You’ve brought a brand new jet ski with you, completely oblivious that the water is way too cold for that right now. Because you’re a dumb tourist.”
Winry takes the cue. “I’m a savvy tourist because I’ve arrived when no one is here and none of the shops are open! Locals LOVE my business! Sure hope nothing happens to me without any lifeguards!”
“You’re out on the water when you get caught… in a current! Waves come and pummel you towards the shore, one by one! Before you know it you’re smashed up against the rocks,  no shore to save you. You’re stuck.”
She musters the most dramatic slump over the back of the chair that she can manage. “Woe is the fate of a tourist such as I.”
“But wait!” Paninya raises a hand to her forehead, shielding her eyes from some kind of indoor sun. “What’s that coming toward you? It couldn’t be, is it a person, come to save you in your darkest hour? But then it comes closer, and you realize fate has never been so kind… because there, in the distance… is…“ She leans in close to Winry with a grave look.
“Is…?”
“Bigfoot with a machete.”
“Bigfoot with a—?!” Winry sputters, pushing Paninya away as she absolutely howls with laughter. “Your idea of a more likely culprit than a sea lion is Bigfoot with a machete?!”
“Uh, yeah?” She lifts an eyebrow. “Come on Winry. The gashes. The rocks. The collectible shot glass he leaves at the scene of every crime. It’s totally Bigfoot’s m.o.”
Winry turns back to the mess of robotics on the table. “I’m done with you. Completely done. I’m kicking you out.”
“What? Noooo, come oooon, I’ve got nothing else to do today! I’m gonna be so bored, Winry, pleeease,” Paninya whines, flopping bonelessly onto the table with her best puppy-dog eyes. Winry is mostly unaffected.
“Why not just go hang out with Lan Fan?” she asks. “She puts up with you way more than I do.”
“Can’t. She’s out with her grandpa ‘scoring sweet holiday deals’ at the outlets.” The complaint comes with air quotes. “Besides, you’ve been talking about how cool this project is gonna be for like, mooonths. I can’t miss it after that kind of hype.”
“I have kind of been taunting you with it, haven’t I?” Winry sighs, curling a loose wire around her finger. “Tell you what. If you can be quiet and not so… Paninya the amazing living distraction on me, then I’ll let you come with me later to do the experiment.” Paninya’s whole disposition perks up like a labradoodle. “But! That means no distractions.”
“Aye captain, no distractions,” Paninya promises with a little salute.
~~~~ ~~~~ ~~~~ ~~~~
Several hours in that ramshackle beach house kitchen, crammed around a table and dutifully trying to keep potato chip crumbs from invading her whole zone (which, to Paninya’s credit, does not technically count as a distraction), and it’s finally complete. Just in time for low tide, too. The thing she’s been dreaming of doing for months, the senior project that will launch her college applications from drab to fab, the thing that will get her out of this backwater beach town for good...
“Okay, so. No more secrets. Tell me what your project is, Win,” Paninya demands, handing her a roll up cord out of the backpack they brought with them. Winry beams at her.
“Wwwweeell, do you remember those guys from like, San Fran who started building an aquatic robot to explore a hole that was rumored to have treasure at the bottom?”
Paninya pulls out a half-eaten bag of Ruffles from the backpack. “No, but that sounds completely rad. Is that your project? Oh shit, are we gonna find treasure?”
“Probably not,” Winry casually admits, ignoring the way Paninya deflates. “But the robot, yeah. The one they built was a world-wide collaboration across the internet. They had a goal, and people would test their builds by building one of their own, tweak it, and report their findings on those tweaks. It was super cool.”
“Yeah, cool for nerds maybe…” Paninya mumbles around a chip.
“SO,” she presses on, “I built one of my own. With some tweaks. You know, in the spirit of the thing. Now I just need to test it out, record my success, and write a whole essay on it.”
“Which is why we’re in the spooky cave that you can only get to at low tide and has a mysterious bottomless pit in it? So you can see if your ‘bot dives or fries?”
“Yep!” Winry answers cheerfully. “And why not just use Ling’s pool to do this instead? My legs don’t get good traction in here. I almost slipped earlier. I almost died.”
“Because Ling’s pool isn’t saltwater, and you’re fine.”
“Wow. Cold. Is this what a shitload of free time your senior year does to you, or is it just the overachieving itself?”
“Both,” Winry chirps, and plugs the cord into the tablet. She moves to plug in the other end into the robot itself, but frowns. The waterproof chassis doesn’t look right, like it settled in transport, skewing the whole design just slightly enough that it kind of worries her. Just that tiny bit of pressure on the cable could knock it out with the right bump, or damage the whole port.
Oh well. That’s why a scout’s always prepared, right? She pulls a knife out of her pocket and carefully shaves the plastic away to make room. And just like that, the plug fits like a charm. Nice and snug.
She turns to Paninya, and nods. “It’s show time.”
“Wait, waaaait,” Paninya stops her, waving a cheese-dusted hand around as the other reaches into the backpack. “It’s bad luck to sail a ship without a name. Got one?”
“Uh… I’ve just been calling it Divebot mark 1?” she offers.
Paninya stops digging through the supplies to stare. “Come on, Win. I’ve taught you to ‘yes and’ better than that.”
“Ugh, fine, okay. Um… Divey Jones?”
“Better.” Paninya reveals a can of ginger ale, and at Winry’s own disbelieving stare, shrugs. “It’s not like I have champagne, dude. Ready?”
“Ready.”
Gently, Winry eases the newly christened Divey Jones into the pool of water in front of them at the same time Paninya starts vigorously shaking the can. It floats on top of the surface, gently bobbing, and Winry tosses a grin at Paninya. First success: buoyancy. Next: video feed.
She boots up the tablet, jailbroken to run an open framework because nobody wants you to sandbox their stuff anymore, and opens the custom app she programmed just for this project. One part video capture, one part robot controller. It saved her the parts cost of making a controller, but also? It’s just a little more impressive for whoever looks over her work. Look, she can engineer hardware and software!
When the window prompt comes up to sync the devices, she starts to get jittery. It was one thing to test out at the house, where everything seemed to work just fine, but this was it. This was what either made her winter break a vacation or a mad dash to troubleshoot whatever could have possibly gone wrong in her schematics. The only thing separating her from either possibility was the flip of a switch.
She picks Divey back up from the water, turns it over, and flips it from “off” to “on”.
Immediately, it begins whirring to life, humming in her hand as the battery does its work. She picks up the tablet and pulls out a notepad lined with little squares to check off as she goes through the boot up process: Video feed online? Check. Headlights? Check. A quick figure eight around the little pool confirms that the fins and motors are working, and she checks that off as well.
It’s time for the big moment. She and Paninya nod at each other.
She deflates the swim bladder a little bit, and as Divey Jones begins to sink into the black abyss, Paninya opens the can of ginger ale to a satisfying arc of spray across the cavern, whooping and laughing at the mess it makes. “Bon voyage!!” she calls down the hole, and Winry shakes her head, smiling and turning her attention to guiding the robot on its way.
The “bottomless pit” is an old volcanic magma tube of some sort, five feet in diameter at the top but quickly narrowing as you go down, and filled with water that pours into the cave at every high tide. The cave that contains it is only accessible on foot during low tide, and you have to be careful not to get caught in the cave during high tide. There’s a ton of warnings on a sign outside that attempt to dissuade tourists from trying to camp out in it, and for good reason.
She got stuck in here at high tide once, when she was a kid. Blacked out and woke up to an ambulance and her grandma freaking out. Couldn’t step foot into the place for a few years after that, partly because of trauma, and partly because the park rangers have tightened up their watch on the place ever since.
So. She and Paninya aren’t really supposed to be here. But, you know. It’s for science.
Paninya leans her head on Winry’s shoulder and watches the video feed on the tablet, the only indicator of where the robot is now that it’s turned a corner out of sight. She presses a chip to Winry’s lips, who mindlessly opens her mouth to accept it she’s so focused.
“How deep is this thing, anyway?” Paninya asks after a few more moments of watching video of dark gray rock walls float by.
“Hopefully less than fifty feet? The cable isn’t any longer than that.”
“Yeah, and you’re almost out of rope,” Paninya observes, looking at the coil beside them that grows thinner and thinner as the robot dives onward. “So now might be a good time to say you see the bottom.”
“Well, I don’t see anythi… wait.” Winry leans forward, bringing the tablet screen up to her face, her brow furrowing. There’s a small irregularity in the tunnels further down where it opens up a bit more. It’s like… what it looks like when an octopus camouflages itself against a rock. But the video on Divey’s tiny little camera is so grainy… and it looks so, so much bigger than an octopus.
Paninya leans in closer. “What? What do you see?”
“I… don’t know?” she answers honestly, and then something really startles her. “Oh fuck, it moved. It just moved—”
“What moved? Where am I looking?”
“Right here!” She points at the screen, at the tiny mass of pixels that is growing and changing and moving, even as the robot sits still, and she doesn’t know what it is. A thought occurs somewhere in her head that maybe she should start backing Divey up, but before she can do anything the mass surges forward in a terrifying blur and the feed cuts to static.
“Divey, no!!” Paninya squeals, and Winry nearly tosses the tablet across the room. But she’s cool. She keeps her cool. She’s smarter than to throw away the one thing containing most of the several past months of work.
“What the hell could…” She stops, the zippy sound of cord sliding across rock catching her off guard. That pitiful coil of cord that was slowly disappearing into the abyss with Divey is disappearing so much faster now, and with the tablet still connected to it.
“Winry, Winry Winry Winry, the tablet, you’ve gotta let go of the tablet—” Paninya babbles, scrambling to get onto her feet, and Winry doesn’t even think this time. She fumbles for the knife at her side, and in one swift motion, severs the line, just in time for the newly frayed end to get sucked into the hole like spaghetti.
Her mouth is dry as she looks up at Paninya.
“Run.”
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snowdog49 · 5 years
Text
She’s my Nerd
Check out my AO3 account! Story found here.
Happy 503 Week! 
It didn’t matter if it was sunny or cloudy outside, after school each day, the trio of friends huddled around the new game system. The graphics were the best of the day and the three games they had kept them more entertained than any outside activity could. There were only so many frogs to catch, sheep to chase, and forts to build. Edward, all summer, had mowed enough lawns to earn the money to buy it. It was his first big purchase. And although his mother wanted him to buy a chemistry set or something educational, she also knew that Ed was going to do his own thing. He always had.
That whole summer they sat in the living room, fed the best chocolate chip cookies, and played the three games they had. The only time they stepped away, was when Ed and Alphonse had to go mow lawns. Even those days, Winry still would come over and play without them. They were hooked, as all twelve-year-olds were that summer. Ed would be hunched over, button mashing, while Al leaned over the back of the couch screaming at him to “hit X” while Winry would tell him to give her a turn.
“You need to use your magic attack!”
“Don’t tell me how to play, Al!”
“Use it! They’re going to kill you!”
“Shut-up, Stupid!”
“Boys!” Their mother would call from the other room.
“It’s my turn!” Winry would always find herself pouting on the other end of the couch. “I’m a better player anyway!”
“Use magic!”
“You can’t play, Win,” Ed argued as he turned the controller and his body as if it’d help his character dart out of the way of an incoming obstacle. “You’re too afraid of the Homunculus!”
“I am not,” she folded her arms and stuck out her tongue.
“You threw the controller,” Al glared at her. He turned back to his brother, “You have to use your magic!”
“It’s called Alchemy,” Ed corrected quickly. “And I don’t have enough materials!”
Everyone in the room moaned as Ed fell back into the couch.
“I told you!”
And this is how it went. And when it did come to most games, Winry was better. There was nothing cuter when it came to the little girl, in a summer dress and her blonde hair pulled back, telling Edward to suck it. Of course, that was quickly followed by Ms. Elric reminding her of her language. When playing the one on one combat games, she dominated. Her reaction time made her almost unbeatable. It got to the point that she had her own victory dance.
“You’re just upset because my female gun shooting soldier is better than your sword swinging ninja.” Winry grinned at the younger brother.
Alphonse shook it off easily. “Pfft,” he scoffed. “I let you win.”
“Al,” Ed mocked. “She whooped you. You didn’t have a chance.”
Al turned to Winry next. “And he’s not a ninja. He’s the prince. See his name? Princes are better fighters.”
“Not against a badass chick with two .45s!”
Ed took the controller from his younger brother with a big grin. “My turn.”
“Your character is too small,” Al teased. “She’s going to wipe the floor with you.”
“It’s not my fault he’s so small!”
“Maybe he’d get bigger if he’d win a round,” Winry smirked, pressing start.
The summer couldn’t last forever. School was just around the corner. Ed and Al ran out of the house, stopping at the junction to wait for Winry to join them. They were clad in new shorts and fancy t-shirts with their favorite video game characters on them. Al remained faithful to his ninja “prince” while Ed proudly sported a bright red shirt with one of the characters, in a giant suit of armor, beating the evil homunculus villain with magic powers. They puffed out their chests, happy to brag about their game console and how much they have achieved. They could only imagine all the other kids in the school talking about the same games, and Ed, in particular, was under the imaginary influence that he was the best at the games. He was excited to tell everyone in the class that he beat the Alchemist game in one summer!
Winry came hurling down the dirt road with her little backpack, waving at them. “Thanks for waiting,” she grinned. “I’m super excited!”
“It’s just school,” Al grumped. “Mom said we have to get homework done or we can’t play.”
“Homework is easy!” She fell in fell in step alongside her longtime friends.
“For you, it is,” Ed sighed.
For the first week, it was easy. Ed and Winry were in the same class, and since they were close outside of school, they tended to be more like siblings in school. After the second week, Ed grabbed his lunch and ran into the schoolyard to meet with Winry and Al at their table. It had been ritual since Alphonse started going to school. But when he got out there, in the bright sunlight, Alphonse wasn’t there. Neither was Winry. He walked up to the table and wondered why. Winry should have at least been there. She didn’t have detention, and she left earlier than him.
“I kicked his butt!”
Ed turned as he heard the familiar boast that he had endured all summer.
“You? A girl? Yeah right!”
“I did! Ed picks the tiny boy character. And my army lady always kills him!”
Ed rolled his eyes as he started walking towards the two. The kid she was bragging to was a year older than them. He was bigger by a couple of inches, but was rather mouthy. Everyone in the school found him a loud mouth. If Ed remembered right, his name was Roy. His dark hair always covered his eyes, and he tended to be a know-it-all. Ed found him more of a punk and ignored him for the most part. In reality, he would not put it past him to be talking about the game and Win, in all of her adorably friendly self, went over there to talk about kicking some of Ed and Al’s butts.
“No way,” the kid shook his hair. “That’s the best character! His metal arm and leg does double that damage in contact attacks!”
Winry stomped her foot. Ed knew she was getting worked up. Her face scrunched and her cheeks grew red. “That’s why the girl soldier is better! You shoot him and jump away! And!” She added quickly, “her secret attack is a dog!”
Ed came up behind his childhood friend but didn’t say anything. He just frowned at the older student getting her worked up.
“Girls shouldn’t be playing video games anyway,” the boy waved his hand at her.
“I like video games,” she began to argue. Her eyes started to swell with tears and her fists tightened at her sides, shaking in frustration.
Ed’s frown grew. This kid was obviously a jerk, and for teasing his friend he was ready to kick his ass. He didn’t care about detention, he already spent enough time there.
“You’re a nerd!” The boy laughed.
Ed had enough. No one was allowed to make her cry. He stepped quickly around Winry, socking the older kid in the face. Down they went. Ed sat on top of the kid, holding his shirt and he shook him. “She’s my nerd!” He yelled, punching him again.
“Edward!”
Winry turned to see Al running up at them. The younger brother grabbed Ed and started to pull him off.
“She’s a better nerd than you’ll ever be! And if you ever…”
“Ed,” Al yelled. “Stop!”
“He called Winry a nerd!” Ed pointed at the kid, wiping the blood from his nose, still recovering from Ed’s tiny fists of fury.
Al glared at the kid, pulling his brother back. In a sweeping move, Ed was able to turn and kicked as hard as he could to the boy’s thigh. The darker haired student wailed. “You make her cry again and I’ll break your face!”
Winry blinked at the whole event, unsure of the chaos that had erupted so fast. Did Edward just defend her honor? That was definitely weird. She didn’t even know Ed thought of her like that. She was just his friend, why did he defend her? She took a few steps back and followed after her so-called hero, but only to see the teacher grab Edward by the arm and drag him off. She sat down, looking at her lunch. She wiped her eyes and smiled at Al who offered her his apple. “You wanna kick my butt later?”
She couldn't help but smile and nodded as she took the apple.  
“Ed will be in detention,” he chuckled. “That means that we don’t have to share our cookies and milk with him.” But she did plan on saving at least one for Ed.
That was the nicest thing Ed had ever done for her. She did hope he didn’t get in too much trouble. As she ate her lunch, she began to wonder what she could do to say thank you. She was good at art… or cooking. She wondered if she baked him something if he’d like that. Even in class, as Ed slumped over his desk, glaring at his assignment, she thought he was her hero. He was the best fighter in the whole school. That was it! She let a grin grow wide on her face. She’d let him win. She’d let his tiny character defeat her army lady. She wouldn’t give it to him, but she could easily press the wrong button a few times.
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serenlyss · 5 years
Text
Abuse of Authority
Rating: T for some language and descriptions of violence (though there’s no actual fighting) Pairings: None this time, but I guess you can spot some Ritshou or Terumob if you really squint. Just Reigen being a dad for the most part. Summary: It's been a long day. Shou's father exploded. Mob grew a giant broccoli in the middle of the city. Teru lost his apartment. Ritsu helped burn down his own house. Reigen can't just leave them behind, so he offers them all to stay in his apartment. Is there enough space? Not really. Was he equipped to suddenly take care of four teenagers? Not in the slightest. But he'll be damned if he doesn't try. Crossposted to AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18445943
My first fic on tumblr! I’ve been wanting to write for MP100 for a few weeks now and finally got around to it. I guess you can call it a canon divergent post-world domination arc fic about all the kids having a sleepover at Reigen’s. Hope you like it!
“It’s not a lot of space, but it should work for a night,” Reigen sighed, reaching into the pocket of his slacks to fish out a ring of keys. The sound of metal on metal as the keys bounced off each other was loud compared to the quiet of the night; the sun had long gone down, and now that Claw had disbanded and the attempt at world domination had been thwarted, the whole city had gone ghostly silent. Not a helicopter or police car dared get too close to the giant broccoli in the center of the city, too afraid of another potential disaster.
“I’m sure it’ll be fine, right guys?” replied Shou, a grin on his face despite the harsh circumstances of the night’s battle. He stuck close to Ritsu’s side, making up for his obvious displeasure at being forced to stay in Reigen’s small apartment with a surprising enthusiasm. “It’s like a sleepover! It’ll be fun!”
Reigen flipped the lights on in the apartment, hanging his coat and keys next to the door like he always did. “Wait out here, I’ll find some food,” he said, though he doubted he had much to eat, especially with - how many kids were there, like three? Four? No, Teru had gone home. Too many to feed when he’d only ever shopped for himself, anyway. Still, anything was better than nothing. He disappeared around the corner into a separate kitchen, the sounds of cabinets opening and closing sounding from behind the wall.
Ritsu sighed, adjusting his grip on Mob’s legs as he carried his older brother into the dim apartment. He’d fallen asleep again after saying goodbye to Teru, his arms limp over Ritsu’s shoulder and his breathing soft and even. He leveled a glare at Shou. “Don’t make me remind you that it was your idea to burn down our house,” he retorted, clearly cross, though there was little real bite behind his accusatory words.
Shou just laughed in reply. “Come on, Ritsu, it worked, right?” He clasped his hands behind his head, stepping into the apartment behind Reigen and looking around curiously.
On Ritsu’s back, Mob stirred, woken by the sound of his friends’ voices. He hummed, arms moving up to grasp Ritsu’s shoulders gently and he looked around with bleary eyes. “Hmm? Did we make it?” he asked, breaking off into a yawn as he did.
Shou flashed him an apologetic smile. “Sorry, did we wake you up?” he asked. “You should sleep more, you really used a lot of power before.”
Mob shook his head, reaching up to rub his eyes with one hand as Ritsu set him back down on the ground. “No, it’s alright. I slept all the way back here,” he replied, though he was obviously still quite groggy. He looked around, as the others had, taking in Reigen’s small apartment. A tidy living area took up the front room, with a couch and coat rack up against the back wall and a coffee table in the center of the room. A modest television sat on a square-shaped table on the opposite wall, though it was powered off for now. “I’ve never been to Master’s apartment before,” he said thoughtfully, the title rolling off his tongue naturally after all these years of being Reigen’s student.
Ritsu fought back the scowl that came to his face at this, never having approved of Mob’s apprenticeship under who he considered a fairly obvious fraud. “It’s cleaner in here than I thought it would be. Reigen always seems so disorganized, I thought there would be stuff all over the place.”
“Hey! I’m very organized, thank you very much! I wouldn’t be able to run such a profitable business if I didn’t even have that going for me.” Reigen appeared from the kitchen again, holding a bag of potato chips in one hand and a tupperware container of brown rice in the other. A stack of mismatched bowls was balanced on top, one for each of them. He set them on the coffee table, then pointed a finger at Ritsu. “You should be more grateful to me for offering up my home to you. I could have just left you in the smoldering remains of your house, you know.”
“You wouldn’t do that,” Mob replied with an easy smile, reaching for one of the empty bowls and cupping it in both hands. “You’re too nice for that.”
Reigen opened his mouth, presumably to retort, then closed it again, feeling himself at a loss for words. “When did you get so ballsy?” he said quietly, voice taut, but he had to fight to keep the corners of his mouth from turning up.
Shou barked out a laugh, loud and rich, snapping up a bowl himself and eagerly reaching for the rice with a fork. “Aw, c’mon, Ritsu, drop the glum face for a bit. He was kind enough to let us sleep over, after all,” he pointed out.
Ritsu reached for a potato chip, examined it for a moment, then popped it into his mouth. “Whatever,” he mumbled. “Speaking of which, where are we even going to sleep?” He glanced up at Reigen; there wasn’t exactly a lot of extra space in here, and he doubted there was any kind of guest room in an apartment like this.
Reigen shrugged. “The couch folds out into a futon that could probably fit two of you, but whoever’s left over will have to make due with sleeping on the floor. I have some extra sheets and blankets for my bed you can borrow, make it a little softer, and I bet I could find a pillow or two if I look hard enough,” he explained. “I don’t usually have guests over, though. Honestly you’re lucky I even have the futon, I only bought it because it was cheap and small.”
“I’ll take the floor,” Shou offered immediately, glancing toward Mob and Ritsu before they could say anything. “You two share the futon.”
“Are you sure?” Ritsu asked, surprised by how fast he’d offered. “I don’t mind sleeping on the floor.”
Shou shook his head. “I can sleep anywhere, dude. You don’t have to worry about that,” he assured with a grin.
Mob offered the boy a small, kind smile. “Thank you, Shou, that’s very kind of you,” he said earnestly.
Reigen chuckled as the three conversed, but he was interrupted by a call on his cell phone. He pulled it out, frowning when he didn’t recognize the number.
Mob glanced at him, tilting his head in curiosity. “Who’s calling?” he asked. “It’s pretty late at night, isn’t it?”
“Probably a telemarketer calling to ask for a donation or something,” Reigen replied, standing up. “I’ll see who it is, you three keep eating.” The poor kids were probably starving after such a long day of fighting against adults. The thought made him scowl. Why should kids their age have to fight against adults abusing their powers? They may be espers, but they were still children who had other things to worry about. He closed the bedroom door behind him as he lifted the phone to his ear, picking up the call. “Hello?”
“Oh, Reigen! I’m glad you picked up, I was worried you might be asleep.”
Reigen blinked in surprise at the voice that came from his phone’s speaker. “... Teruki, is that you?” he asked, his brain taking a bit to catch up to his ear in his tired state. “Er, do you need something?”
A soft, somewhat nervous laugh came across the line. “Sorry to bother you like this. I got your phone number from Kageyama, so we could keep in touch, and I guess it came in handy. Um…” he trailed off, line going silent, and for a moment Reigen was afraid the connection may have cut out.
“Are you still there?” he asked, though he could pick up static noise on the other side of the line. “Look, kid, just tell me what you need, alright? We’re fine, if you’re wondering that. The other three are eating in the main room, do you want to talk to them?”
“Ah, sorry, that’s not why I called,” Teru replied quickly. “I, uh, got back to my apartment, but… it’s in worse shape than I remember. And by that, I mean most of my wall is gone and my furniture is kinda… destroyed.” He cleared his throat, sounding embarrassed. “I know I said I’d be fine on my own, but-”
“Your wall is gone?!” Reigen interrupted, his thoughts finally catching up with him enough to sputter something out. “What do you mean it’s gone? What happened? You know what, that doesn’t matter right now. Are you safe? Jesus, you shouldn’t sleep in an apartment with a hole in a wall, you might get sick.” He continued to ramble for a moment, listing all the irresponsible things that could happen to a kid living in an apartment with no wall and no furniture, but paused when he heard Teruki’s stifled laughter on the other end of the line.
Teru attempted to disguise the laughter with a cough, clearing his throat. “Yeah, yeah, I get it,” he said in an almost teasing way. “And yeah, I’m safe, it’s just my apartment that was damaged. But, uh, I don’t really have any other place to go right now, so… is the offer to crash at your place still open?”
Reigen blinked, mind running a mile a minute as he tried to determine if there was enough space. Even if there wasn’t, though, could he really say no? “What about your parents?”
The line went quiet again for a moment before Teru answered, in a softer voice, “They’re overseas. I live by myself, so you don’t have to worry about that. They send me money, too, but I’m too young to book a hotel room, so, uh, my options are limited. Do you have space?”
Well, now he definitely couldn’t say no. But still, a kid who couldn’t be older than fourteen, living by himself with no parental guardians to even check in on him in person? Not only was it probably illegal for Teru’s parents to leave him alone like that, but there was no way a kid like him could care for himself completely. There was a reason kids weren’t considered adults until they were eighteen, even if he could cook and clean for himself just fine. “Yeah, yeah, I have space. Do you live far? I can come by in a taxi and pick you up if you need it. Do you have any extra clothes of blankets or anything that didn’t get messed up?” His worry for Teru was rising by the moment as he started to imagine what the life of a fourteen year old boy with no parents and all the responsibilities of an adult must be like. Was he eating right? Was he keeping his place clean? What happened when things broke, and he didn’t have the authority to call a plumber, or a mechanic?
“Uuhh, I’ll look. I think I have some clothes that weren’t burned, but my bed got toasted. And it’s okay, I can walk. Just send me the address,” Teru replied, and in the background Reigen heard the sound of drawers opening and closing. “Aha! My clothes seem like they’re mostly intact, at least the ones not in the closet. I have some sweatpants, pajamas, tee-shirts… want me to bring extras? I’m not sure if Kageyama and his brother were able to salvage anything from their house before… you know.”
That was actually… a really good idea, Reigen realized. They’d stopped by the school to pick up Mob’s gym clothes, but none of the Body Improvement club members had anything else that would fit the smaller, slighter middle schoolers, and he sure as hell didn’t either. “Yeah, if you can spare them, that would actually be really great. You sure you don’t need a taxi, though? It’s late at night, there might be some creeps hanging around.”
Teru laughed again, the sound echoing from Reigen’s speakers. “I think I’ve been in enough fights that a few creeps won’t be any threat,” he assured, though it didn’t do anything to make Reigen feel better, because now he was thinking about how Teru had probably been targeted by Claw just like Mob and Ritsu had, and it was making his stomach feel sour.
Still, he didn’t doubt Teru could hold his own. “Alright, if you say so. I’ll leave the door unlocked, so just let yourself in,” he said. “I’ll text you the address. Just… be safe, alright?” His voice softened some, hoping his warning would get across to the younger boy.
“Will do, boss, don’t worry about me. I’ll be there soon.” He paused for a moment before adding, “Thanks for taking me in.”
Reigen smiled softly, running a hand through his hair. These kids were going to be the death of him someday, he could feel it. “Don’t mention it, kid. See you soon.”
“See you.”
A click signaled the end of the call, and Reigen tucked his phone back into his pocket. He stood up and stretched his back with a soft sigh. He’d have to buy more food, and make sure he had plenty of blankets… well, the shopping could at least wait until tomorrow morning. For now he’d better tell the other boys about his phone call. He pushed open the bedroom door and abruptly halted when he sat that the couch had been completely opened up to reveal the collapsible futon inside.
“Oh, Master! We were just getting the bed set up,” Mob said, looking up at him with a smile. “Who was on the phone?”
Reigen made his way carefully around the futon, which now took up a good chunk of space. The coffee table had been moved closer to the kitchen and now pressed up against the wall with the couch’s cushions laying atop it, the leftover rice and opened bag of potato chips taking up one side. “Ah, it was Teru,” he replied. “Turns out his apartment got pretty badly, er, damaged.”
Mob’s smile faltered at this, replaced by a fairly obvious worry. “Is he alright?”
“He’s fine, he’s actually on his way here,” Reigen answered. “He’s going to bring some of his extra clothes, too, and more blankets if he can find any. You’re in luck.”
Shou let out a breath from where he’d been sitting on the bed’s edge, flopping back fully onto the futon underneath. “Thank god, these clothes smell like dog shit,” he said, tugging on the collar of his jacket.
“Shou,” Ritsu scolded with a glare, earning a laugh from his red-haired friend.
“Sorry, sorry, my clothes smell like crap,” he corrected, cheshire grin spreading across his face as he tilted his head backward to stare upside-down at Ritsu. “For real, though, these pants are ruined.” He gestured to his torn jeans, which had ripped in several places from his earlier scuffles and the explosion that came from Mob’s collision with his father.
Ritsu sighed, perching himself on the bed’s other side. “Mine too,” he grumbled, poking his finger through a tear in the bottom of his shirt. “Anyway, d’you think Teru will bring us some real people clothes or more of what he usually wears?”
Shou shrugged, stretching his arms up behind his head. “I dunno, I don’t really care as long as they fit and don’t have holes in them,” he answered.
“Teru always looks very colorful,” Mob chimed in, placing one of Reigen’s spare pillows on one side of the bed. “I like the way he dresses.”
Ritsu couldn’t help but laugh softly at this. “Of course you would.”
Reigen had fallen quiet as the kids talked idly amongst themselves, scrolling through his notifications and reading any important messages. He’d received a text from Teru not long after they’d gotten off the phone saying he was on his way, so now it was just a waiting game. He raised a hand to his mouth to stifle a yawn, eyelids heavy from the long day. “Don’t you kids think you should get some sleep?” he suggested. “It’s been a long day.”
“Aw, c’mon, dad, it’s a slumber party now, right? Everyone knows you have to stay up all night,” Shou replied with a snarky grin, sitting back up on the bed. “You, on the other hand, are free to go to bed whenever you want to.”
“Twenty-nine is not old!” Reigen snapped. “Besides, I can’t sleep until Teruki gets here and I know everyone has a place to sleep. It would be irresponsible of me not to make sure of at least that.”
“I didn’t call you old, I said you’re a dad. Or at least you act like one,” Shou pointed out, though his own experience with parental figures was… pretty bad, if he was to admit it. Still, the way Reigen shepherded the group and made sure they were taken care of is what he imagined a good father was like. Well, not everything about Reigen screamed good father material, but some things. Certain things. “Never mind that. We can keep an eye out for Teru, no worries.”
---
Despite Shou’s enthusiasm about staying up late, he was the first of the three to pass out, sprawled out on the floor next to the futon on top of a soft blanket Reigen had given to him to use. The house got much quieter after that as Mob and Ritsu moved to put proper sheets and blankets on the futon and eventually followed their friends lead, the two of them squished together comfortably on the small bed.
Reigen didn’t sleep yeet, as much as he really wanted to, afraid that he’d miss Teru’s arrival or somehow mess things up in another, unrelated way. He found himself dozing occasionally as he sat in one of his kitchen chairs, roused only by the door quietly cracking open a little while after Ritsu finally fell asleep. Teru slipped inside, hefting a stuffed-looking bag over his shoulder as he did.
Reigen stood up immediately, holding a finger to his lips as Teru flashed him a confused look. He nodded to the three other kids asleep on the floor and futon. “You took longer than I thought, I was getting close to calling you to make sure you hadn’t been kidnapped or something.”
Teru smiled at the sight of his friends, though he looked slightly disappointed that they were already asleep. “Sorry, it was, uh, a longer walk than I anticipated,” he murmured in reply. “I brought clothes, though, at least what I could salvage, and I managed to snag a blanket that wasn’t buried in debris, so that’s cool too.”
Reigen gave a nod a this, seemingly pleased, and waved for Teru to follow him into his bedroom. He left the door open, moving toward the closet at the side of the room. “C’mon in, I have some extra blankets and pillows you can use, but you’ll have to sleep in the floor with Shou. Mob and his brother claimed the futon couch,” he explained, reaching up to take down another stack of blankets from the top shelf of his closet. “Thanks for bringing the clothes, by the way. I think the others will appreciate having something not torn to shreds to wear in the morning.”
Teru glanced around the room before taking a seat on the edge Reigen’s bed, nestling his backpack between his legs. “No problem. I figured it would help pay you back a little for letting me stay over, at least ‘til I can figure out what to do about my apartment.”
Reigen set the pile of sheets on the bed for now, glancing at Teru with a slight frown. “You don’t have to pay me back. You’re a kid who needs a place to stay, I’m an adult who has some empty floor space and a couch. Besides, you’re all Mob’s friends, and, well, I owe him.” He glanced down at this, focusing on the pile of blankets and hoping Teru wouldn’t pry any further. The last thing he needed was to spill all his secrets regarding his falsified relationship with Mob to a fourteen-year-old with bad fashion taste.
Luckily for him, Teru didn’t ask about the alleged favors. “Still, I feel bad about barging in at the last second. I’ve always just kinda taken care of myself, the last few years,” he admitted, fiddling with his backpack strap. “It feels weird to ask a favor from another adult again, I guess.
Reigen sighed softly, then moved to sit in the bed next to Teru. “I mean, I did offer you to stay here before you mentioned having a place of your own,” he pointed out. “Besides, it can’t be healthy to be by yourself after… everything that happened, with Claw and the kidnappings and the whole world domination stuff. You guys may be psychics, but you’re still just kids.”
Teru chuckled softly, shrugging his shoulders. “Those guys had been coming after me long before they got to Ritsu. I was used to it,” he said in such a casual manner that it threw Reigen for a loop all over again. Just because he could defend himself didn’t mean he had to, he was barely a teenager.
“You shouldn’t have had to get used to it in the first place,” Reigen retorted, a hint of bitterness in his voice. “I know you kids are powerful, I’ve seen all of you fight firsthand, but that doesn’t mean you should get used to a life like that. You all deserve way better.” He clasped his hands together, fingers gripping tightly. “It’s not fair that you kids had to do all the fighting for the rest of us because none of the adults were strong enough or brave enough to do it themselves. I wasn’t… able to do anything, in the end.”
Teru hummed, leaning back on his hands and looking up at the ceiling. “I don’t think that’s true,” he said softly. “You did punch Shimazaki in the face, after all.” He flashed Reigen a grin. “Plus, you’re giving all us kids a place to sleep. Without you, we might all be sleeping on park benches tonight.”
He paused, smile fading some and turning bittersweet. “I guess you’re right, it does suck that we had to do all of that, but that’s kind of just how I’ve been living, these last few years. Dodging Claw when they came after me, controlling my classmates with fear and violence, doing everything I could to survive. I was… a pretty shitty person, before Kageyama brought me down a few pegs. I probably still wound be, if he hadn’t.”
“All kids are shitty. Being a good person is something us adults are supposed to teach you. Sounds like you didn’t have a lot of that, growing up.” Reigen ran a hand through his hair, pushing his bangs away from his forehead with a sigh. “Look, I know I only got wrapped up with you kids basically by accident, but… you can call me if you ever need anything, alright?”
He glanced sideways at Teru, caught off-guard when he saw that Teru was staring back at him with wide eyes. Feeling suddenly embarrassed, he raised a hand to his mouth and added, quickly, “As long as it’s not during my work hours, of course! I can’t do anything if I’m with a client, or out on a job, but, y’know, you can leave a message or something.”
Teru laughed aloud, raising a hand to his face, and as Reigen chanced another glance his way he saw him wipe a tear away from the corner of his eye. “Thanks, Reigen. I’ll take you up on that, if it ever comes up,” he replied earnestly, and as he lowered his hand again it revealed a shaky but very pleased smile.
Reigen found himself momentarily speechless as he stared down at Teru. Was it really so pleasing to him just to be offered some help in case of emergency? The suggestion had just felt natural at the time, but it was clear that Teru had really taken it to heart. He glanced away, feeling his face heat up in telltale embarrassment, and stood up again. “Well, in any case, it’s late and you should probably get some rest,” he announced, glancing down at the watch on his wrist. The hour hand taunted him, sitting a little past four in the morning. Good god, it really was late. He picked up the bundle of blankets and an extra pillow he’d taken from his bed to lend to Teru, pushing them into the boy’s hands. “Here, go find a spot to set these up. I’ll take the clothes you brought with you and throw them in the wash for now, that way they’ll be ready for everyone in the morning.”
Teru nodded, taking the blankets and passing Reigen his backpack. “They’re in the big pocket,” he explained, heading for the door. He paused as he reached it, glancing over his shoulder. “Thanks again, Reigen. It really means a lot to me.” With that said, he cracked open the door and slipped outside, closing it quietly behind him.
Reigen set the backpack on the bed, catching some muffled talking on the other side of the door, what sounded like Teru telling a drowsy Mob to go back to bed. He opened the large pocket of the backpack like Teru had told him and began pulling clothes out from inside. Although the clothes themselves seemed to have been untouched by whatever destroyed Teru’s apartment, they were still dusty, and some of them carried a faint, unpleasant smoke smell. Guess I was right about needing to put these in the wash, he thought to himself, setting them aside for now. Hopefully the smell wouldn’t stick, or they’d have to be thrown out entirely.
He moved to his dresser and cracked open a drawer in search of clean pajamas, knowing his suit was thoroughly destroyed and definitely stunk from how much he’d been tossed around today. He quickly changed into a more comfortable, and more importantly clean, tee shirt and pair of sweatpants, tossing his ruined suit aside. He’d have to throw it out and buy a new one, but that wasn’t where his thoughts were leading him. He frowned deeply, going back over his conversation with Teru over the phone. He lived by himself, in an apartment. He had to cook and clean for himself, get himself up for school, do all his own shopping, the list went on and on.
It felt like Teru’s parents had abandoned him.
Reigen shook his head, sighing. It wasn’t his place to cast judgement, at least not yet. Not until he’d heard the whole story. Though, with the way Teru had been so hesitant to admit his situation in the first place, he doubted the boy would be too quick to incriminate his own family.
That didn’t keep him from worrying, though. There was no way it was legal for an adult to leave their son at home while they went overseas, even if Teru was capable of at least keeping himself alive. What did he do when he was sick? He had no adult to call his school and tell them he wouldn’t be coming. Pursing his lips, Reigen scooped up the bundle of clothes Teru had brought with him and headed out of the bedroom, careful to make as little noise as possible.
Mob had gone back to sleep already, the thick blanket on the futon pulled up so far it nearly covered his mouth and nose. He looked cozy, Reigen noted with a soft smile. Teru had set up shop on the floor beside the futon, and though he stirred slightly as Reigen passed by him, he didn’t sit up or open his eyes. Shou was laying starfish style on his back, his own blanket covering his stomach and leaving his arms and shoulders exposed. One of his bare feet peeked up from the bottom of the blanket, and his mouth was partially open, an occasional soft snore sounding from him. Ritsu had curled up on his side, the blanket tucked firmly around him. The kids looked peaceful, and not at all like they’d just gone through a near-death experience. Well, he supposed, it wasn’t the first, and there was potential that it wouldn’t be the last.
Reigen frowned at the thought, feeling uncharacteristically protective all of a sudden. Watching Mob fight had been terrifying, for all kinds of reasons, but it had paled in comparison to the fear he’d felt when Mob had run to him, bruised and bleeding, telling them to run away before they were all killed by Touichiro’s uncontrollable psychic power. Seeing Mob’s true power didn’t make him feel nearly as afraid as he’d been when Touichiro’s power had erupted, the unspeakable terror he’d experienced at the thought that an adult’s childish actions had caused the death of a middle schooler.
Reigen swallowed thickly, turning away from the now-crowded living room of his apartment and passing through the kitchen to the adjacent laundry room. It wasn’t just Mob who had suffered as the result of adults turning their backs on the younger generation. Every one of the children now asleep in his living room bore the trauma of the realization that adults weren’t always going to be on their sides. Shou and Teru in particular seemed as though they didn’t have a lot of trustworthy adults to turn to in times of need, their trust shattered by the abuse of authority and power disparities they’d lived through.
He dropped the bundle of clothes into the washer, not even bothering to separate them into color groups as he closed the lid and began to wash cycle. He’d throw them in the dryer in the morning, before the others woke up. For now, though, the fatigue of the day bore down on his shoulders and eyelids, silently begging him to get some rest. The clock now read four-thirty in the morning, and he didn’t doubt that he’d likely sleep in past noon, but it wasn’t like he had anywhere to go tomorrow, anyway. His office was a pile of ashes, and with Seasoning City in a state of panic, he doubted any schools or offices would be operating for a few days, until the situation was resolved.
He dragged himself back to his bedroom, practically collapsing into bed. There was still lots to do before he could consider his work done, but for now, he just needed to sleep.
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violetsmoak · 5 years
Text
Appetence [8/?]
AO3 Link:https://archiveofourown.org/works/20251420/chapters/47997634
Blanket Disclaimer
Summary: Red Robin is investigating the disappearance of a friend and stumbles into a spot of supernatural trouble. He doesn’t expect to be saved by Jason Todd, miraculously alive five years after his death and now with the inexplicable ability to commune with the dead. Meanwhile, when Jason returned to Gotham he meant to maintain a low profile and not get involved with Bat business. That was before he found out how hot his Replacement is.
Rating: PG-13 (rating may change later)
JayTimBingo Prompts This Chapter: #cemetery #paranormal investigator
First Chapter
Beta Reader: I’ll get back to you on that.
________________________________________________________________
Jason is actually surprised when his office isn’t immediately descended upon by bats or birds or other nasty little creatures of the night.
It makes him like Red Robin—Tim—a little more.
(Not that he didn’t already.)
It may or may not have been one of the reasons he had to bail so fast the other night. The combination of not wanting to discuss his avoidance of Gotham, and the pained, earnest expression on Tim’s face when he asked about it. The one that made Jason feel guilty about it—which, why should he feel guilty, he doesn’t even know the kid—and sent him peeling out of the bar as fast as possible.
Of course, he doesn’t really think he’s going to be able to avoid Tim forever. There’s still that dark presence attached to him; one he needs to find out more about before he can do anything about it.
Still, it’s not an imminent threat, and he’s not sure how to broach that conversation.
By the way, you have this kind of shadow following you? It’s bigger than I’ve ever seen on anyone before. Might want to do something about that. Oh, how do I know? Yeah, I happen to see ghosts.
Tim might be used to all kinds of weird shit since he’s from Gotham, but admitting that you see dead people is something even established occultists don’t do on the regular. Either you end up being solicited for all kinds of ridiculous requests about the afterlife or have someone get offended and angry because they think you’re lying to them.
Or, you know, thrown into an asylum for talking to people no one can see.
In his experience, none of those things are fun.
And then there’s the other thing.
The small but strong, smooth voice, and the slightly too-long hair and the eyes that look as deep and dangerous as the Atlantic—Tim apparently checks all of Jason’s boxes and they’ve only met the one time.
Or more than one time, as it turns out. He just wasn’t aware of it.
“You know, you might be talented in other ways, but those fries aren’t going to burst into flame if you keep glaring at them.”
Jason glances up to where Trista is doing her weekly inventory; the pub is empty but for Jason, who was feeling too lazy to walk a few blocks to the local grocery for an actual healthy lunch.
“Who says I’m trying?”
“Oh, no, you see, that was my clever way of initiating a conversation without it seeming out of the blue. You’ve obviously got something on your mind.”
“I have a lot on my mind. Constantly. Most of it related to the sad sacks milling around waiting for me to solve their problems.”
“But that’s not what that is this time,” she points out. “This time I think it’s got something to do with the pretty boy who came in here the other night.”
“You’ve been sampling your own product.”
“Shut up, you know I’m a teetotaler. And I’ve seen you beat people up for less than looking at one of the girls out there the way you were looking at Blue Eyes. He can’t be older than the kids that run for the mafia.”
“He’s almost eighteen,” Jason says defensively, and then feels the blood rush from his face, because oh god, I’m trying to justify it what is wrong with me?
That earns a raised eyebrow from the bartender. “And how do you know that? Did you Face-Stalk him the minute you noped out of here?”
“Did I…what?” Jason asks, staring at her in puzzlement. He knows what the words mean individually, but the meaning behind what she’s suggested is lost on him.
Trista sighs. “How do I know more millennial slang than you do? You’re like ten years younger than me.”
“Because I was dead and you’re forever young at heart?”
“Smooth. You’re still paying for your fries.”
Jason makes a face at her but is relieved when she leaves the subject alone. Trista might tease and caution, but she doesn’t pry; just waits for the story to tumble out on its own.
Must be some kind of barkeep skill. But it’s not going to work today.
He tosses a twenty on the table—well beyond what the chips are actually worth—and heads back to his office.
Settling back at his desk, behind the clunky computer that looks like it might be as old as Jason, he scowls at the screen.
He might not know what ‘Face-Stalk’ means, but he can guess. And it hits a little too close to home.
Jason may or may not have spent the morning after his little interview with Tim doing research on his replacement, learning whatever he could about Timothy Jackson Drake-Wayne.
And doesn’t that complicate things. The little shit neglected to mention that little tidbit.
Jason never bothered learning much about the Robins who came after him; it was too painful a reminder of a life that was no longer his. Of a family that moved on so easily following his death that they stuck another kid in the suit like Jason had never worn it.
Because of how often the world is in some kind of peril, he was never completely ignorant of them. He’s seen broadcasts of big showdowns in California and other places where Capes get together and get their hero on. He had watched his replacement and Nightwing joking and laughing, closer than Jason and Dick had ever been and decided he didn’t want to know anything more.
He’s starting to see why that might have been an oversight on his part.
It seems Tim Drake lived a few estates down from Wayne manor. They were goddamn neighbors and Jason never knew.
Which is a shame.
He could have used actual friends as the newly adopted son of Bruce Wayne; it might have made the transition easier. If he’d had someone to fall back on, someone outside of the Mission to talk to about what he was feeling, maybe he might not have been so determined to go to Ethiopia.
“Well, now, that’s not true,” Sheila says, making Jason jump as she suddenly materializes in thin air. “You were going to come looking for me no matter what.” He shoots her a glare. “You realize you’re talking out loud, right?”
“And you realize most people give a warning before they walk into another person’s living space?” he retorts. “I could have been doing anything in here.”
Sheila pretends to examine the water damage in the corner of the office. “As if you’re that interesting.”
“Is there something you need?”
“To move on.”
“Please, be my guest.”
She glares at him. “I would if you weren’t so thick.”
“If you’re going to start with that shit again, you can go back to wherever you go when you’re not here,” he grumbles. “I’m not in the mood for this argument again.”
“That’s not actually why I’m here,” Sheila replies.
“Oh, really? Imagine that.”
She ignores that. “The boy is dangerous. You should stay away from him.”
“Of course he’s dangerous, he was trained by B.”
“Not for that reason. You know what I’m talking about.” She shivers—if ghosts can actually shiver. “That shadow that’s attached to him. It’s feeding. On him. On others. You should stay away.”
Jason raises an eyebrow. “On a normal person, that might actually sound like motherly concern. But we both know that’s not your thing.”
“You’re right. If that thing decides to make a meal out of the stubborn little medium, I’m stuck here for all eternity.”
“And there it is.”
“Self-preservation is not a sin,” Sheila informs him, before vanishing.
“Having selfish motives is,” Jason mutters to himself, as he goes back to his work.
But the fact is, if Sheila’s uneasy about the aura Tim’s giving off, that’s a bigger problem than he thought. For the most part, ghosts and spirits don’t interact with one another. They need a human conduit or emotion to use as grounding. If a malevolent presence is strong enough to disturb the personal sphere of other ghosts as well as the living, then that suggests a growing nexus of negative energy.
And any number of bad things can come from that.
Jason’s research has so far confirmed what Tim had said about his parents’ deaths—the potential reason the kid’s aura got disturbed in the first place. Negative energy needs some kind of disruption or inciting incident to thrive, and that’s probably what kicked it off. Both of them were murdered—one poisoned in a voodoo ritual, the other butchered by Captain Boomerang a few years later.
And that’s not the last time Death took someone from you, is it?
As a vigilante, he lost teammates—the Super kid and the tiny speedster. Bruce’s death, however temporary, still happened, still hurt. And then there’s the entire year and a half where the newest Robin, Bruce’s son, doesn’t appear anywhere. Tim mentioned it was because he was dead, and whatever his personal feelings are toward the kid, he couldn’t have not been affected by the death of an eleven-year-old that for all intents and purposes is his little brother. More recently, the public record notes the death of Tim’s stepmother from an apparent suicide in a psychiatric facility.
All that trauma and death happening to him so close together would explain a dark presence clinging to him, at least to some degree. But it shouldn’t be as dense as it is. Negative energy like that is supposed to dissipate as a person deals with whatever is causing it—in this case, grief.
So either he’s not dealing with it—which is possible considering his mentor and considering how most Capes like to brush the emotional shit under the rug—or something about him is actively drawing it to him. To it.
It sort of reminds him of something John told him he encountered in Japan, but he can’t remember the specifics.
Jason thinks the catalyst might be related to something Tim didn’t mention, the part of the story he obviously skipped over when it looked like he was reliving something traumatic.
Joker-related traumatic.
Somehow he doubts Tim will be as forthcoming with that experience as he was giving the rundown of the year Jason missed. If only there was a way to start that conversation in an inconspicuous way…
Of course, that would mean starting a conversation first. Which depends on whether he calls me or not.
Reflexively, he digs his phone out to check if there have been any missed calls and then shoves it away when he realizes what he’s doing.
He is not waiting by the phone for him to call. If this were an imminent problem, he could easily get in contact with Tim—he highly doubts the number to Wayne Manor has changed, and even if it has, it’s just a matter of calling the company line at WE and finding someone to let him speak to Tim Wayne.
(And yes, he might have found out where he worked. But that’s public record, and not an indication of any other untoward interest.)
But it’s not an imminent problem, and he’s not getting involved unless Tim asks him to, and even then he’ll probably stay out of it because he promised himself when he came back to Gotham he would avoid any drama related to the Bats.
Even if one of them is really hot.
Jailbait, he reminds himself doggedly. Jailbait, jailbait, jailbait-with-Batman-as-a-stand-in-father. Just an all-around bad idea.
And so, Jason dutifully closes down the webpages and ridiculous amount of open tabs on his browser and prepares himself to do some actual work related to his job.
The low-paying, barely acceptable job…
He spends a few days building up his business, putting the word out about his services and specialties. He makes rounds to suppliers that John told him about, stocks up on the usual staples like candles and holy water takes on the occasional haunting (and is forced to desecrate a grave or two in the process when the spooks get nasty).
Things are actually going well for a while, enough so that he (almost) forgets about Tim and his shadowy parasite, doesn’t have to deal with anymore cryptic warning visits from Sheila and even starts to relax into an honest-to-goodness routine.
Of course, it’s too much to expect that the brief lull can continue in peace. Tim’s promise not to say anything or not, it’s only a matter of time before Batman cottons on to Jason’s presence. Red Robin might be on the outs with him and the rest of the family for whatever reason, but he doubts anything would be bad enough to keep the former Boy Wonder from sharing such a juicy tidbit as Jason’s resurrection and return to Gotham.
Considering his background, the kid probably feels too much of an obligation to Bruce not to say anything. And buried beneath layers of denial and his own naïve plans, Jason knows there was never a scenario where he could stay under Bruce’s radar for the rest of his life.
Not as long as he decided to stay in Gotham.
But because this is Jason, so of course everything whatever he’s involved in always goes to shit, he doesn’t wake up in his office-cum-bedroom one night with the lights cut and Bruce looming over him in the dark.
Instead, he gets attacked while in the middle of burning remains in a graveyard.
Or, about to burn some remains.
One minute, he’s standing over the freshly dug grave with his lighter and accelerant, surgical mask and visor on because that shit burns—the next, he’s being hauled backward and knocked into a headstone, tools going flying.
When he looks up, his breath gets stuck in his throat.
Five years later, and he still feels like a snot-nosed kid staring up at the Bat in stunned amazement. Even though he’s long since caught up to him in height (there might be an inch or two difference, but he’s not sure how much of that is from the cowl) and musculature, he feels like a colt beside a stallion.
And beyond the mask, and the cape and the only face Gotham’s underbelly knows, he can sense the steely blue gaze of the man who put him on his life’s path.
The only father that ever really mattered to him, when it came down to it.
“Damn. I didn’t even hear you,” he remarks as he struggles to his feet, surprised his voice remains level. “I forgot you can be freakishly quiet.”
He blames not hearing the approach because of the noise filters in his ears—blocking ghosts has the nasty side-effect of blocking some of the living, too. He’s trained himself to listen for a normal person sneaking up on him—not too hard, considering most night watchmen or security guards make more noise than they realize—but Bruce isn’t exactly normal.
“There have been seven grave desecrations in the past month,” he growls at him in full Batman voice, and Jason swallows.
Not from fear, but because he had forgotten. How had he forgotten what that sounds like?
“The GCPD wants to know why. I don’t care. I want it to stop.”
There’s an implicit threat--an ultimatum there.
And it hits Jason, then: Bruce doesn’t recognize him.
He has no idea who he is, and it’s not just because his face is covered.
Tim really didn’t say anything to him.
Jason’s not sure what he’s more surprised about, that his replacement kept his word or that Bruce didn’t just jump him from behind and tie him up.
From what Jason remembers, he only ever went for the dramatic entrance on nights when he was looking for a fight.
Which, if that’s the case…shit.
“Okay, chill,” Jason says slowly. “Believe it or not, I’m past the need to do things the violent way first.
Batman looms, exuding menace. “And yet you have no problem violating graves.”
“I’d ask you to let me explain, but we both know you won’t believe a word I say. So…actions speak louder than words, right? I’m just going to take off my gear—”
Immediately, a batarang slices into the hand Jason moves, and it’s only training that turns it into a flesh wound instead of a worse injury. “Keep your hands where I can see them.”
Jason narrows his eyes.
And there’s the inflexibility. How much I didn’t miss that.
He forgot how sometimes, the only way to make Bruce listen to something was to grab his attention in other ways.
“Okay, you paranoid son of a bitch,” he mutters and rolls his shoulders. “Now it’s on, just on principle.” He shifts his stance. “Let’s boogie.”
If the words throw Bruce off, there’s no outward indication. He charges forward with intent, and without hesitation; Jason meets him the same way.
The older man’s body twists, bringing momentum to the downward punch meant to knock Jason out with one blow, but he braces, is surprised to catch it before it connects.
If Batman is surprised, he doesn’t show it; he’s already moving, left knee jerking up to hit him in the chest—Jason moves back enough to avoid that, but not the snap of the foot that catches him in the chest, sending him flying backward.
Jason doesn’t linger on the ground to recover, instead rolls forward and to his feet, then charges, vaults over a headstone to achieve lift, and aims a kick to the side of Batman’s head. The vigilante avoids it, and when Jason tries to follow up with an overhand hammer fist, he catches that, too.
Shit.
Realistically, he knows he doesn’t have a chance in Hell of beating Batman. Maybe in another life, if he kept training like his mentor, he likes to imagine he would have surpassed Bruce. Jason always had a raw strength to him, forged in the streets that no billionaire’s coddled son could have, no matter how many martial arts he studied and how many masters he learned from.
But Jason didn’t get that life, he got this one, and he’s learned to roll with the punches—literally.
They fight, trading blows and blocks. Jason is surprised that despite being a little rusty when it comes to close combat, he’s still able to keep up—still able to meet each blow and to even take a hit that he’s seen down a man twice his size.
Either I’m better than I thought, or he’s slowed down over the years.
Both options are as equally unlikely as the other.
The two men grapple for a bit, and Jason can’t help running his mouth, because that’s how he always fought.
And because he’s suddenly angry.
“It has to be beyond thought,” he bites out as Batman gets his hand free and tries to hit Jason’s face. “Well past instinct.” He avoids the attack, jerking his head to one side. The momentary lag in Batman’s movements is the only clue he recognizes the words he once spoke to him. “You simply act—”
Batman has hold of their joined hands and tries to use his weight to lever Jason backward, but he moves with it, bending and jumping, using the momentum to flip around in a backflip and free himself.
“—a finely tuned instrument—"
Years of unspoken resentment, feelings he tamped down because they were irrational, nights he woke up sobbing—
Why didn’t you come for me why didn’t you look for me why didn’t you imagine I could be alive why didn’t you get there in time?
They trade more blows for a few minutes before Jason is sent backward again, rolling into another headstone and back to feet.
“—a body trained to perfection—”
He charges forward again.
“—techniques honed and mastered—”
Batman has another batarang in hand, is trying to plunge it into a part of Jason’s body that’s both non-lethal but capable of neutralizing him at the same time.
“—and expensive toys to wield against the “malignant scum that ravage this city,” Jason sneers, narrowly avoiding the sharp edges as he shoves the blows off-course. “So what the hell are you doing here?”
“Who are you.”
It’s not a question, more a demand, and Jason ignores it.
Batman varies his approach then, giving up on the batarang and trying to use the sharp edges of his gauntlets to hobble him. Sometimes he comes from beneath, sometimes from above or the side.
There’s no anticipating the move, only reacting to it as it comes.  
And taking advantage of an opening when you see one.
Jason moves then, lands a blow with the heel of his hand to the unprotected curve of jaw. While Batman staggers, Jason jumps up and twists around, slamming a kick to his side that sends him flying into a headstone this time.
Anyone who’s ever fought the Bat knows you don’t give him a chance to recover, and so Jason is already darting forward, bending and jumping with his knee forward, slamming it into Batman’s chest as he gets to his feet. The blow sends vibrations of pain up through Jason’s leg and around to his spine because of the damn armor, but it still has Batman doubling over as the headstone behind him crumbles.
“Grave robbing cases aren’t really your thing,” Jason points out even as the vigilante is up and ready again, raining down blows on him with all the vigor of a second wind. “Even the Commish wouldn’t expect you to look into this. Not with all the other freaks in the night!” He curses and ducks back when a gauntleted fist nearly busts his jaw. “So why go all out here on some petty crime?”
Jason flips him, but Batman only skids back a few paces before retaking his stance.
“Could it be, maybe you’ve got a personal stake in it?” he taunts. “This graveyard…the resting of your first great failure…”
The growl Batman emits is almost animal then, and Jason barely has time to brace himself for it as a vicelike grip seizes him around the throat.
“Who. Are. You.”
Jason gasps for breath, his own hands wrapping around the gauntlet in an effort to hold himself up, to keep breathing. He gasps out, “Not your last though, was it?”
As expected, the comment pisses Batman off enough that he has to let him go or risk collapsing his throat. Jason finds himself sailing back through the air again, landing on his back.
He coughs, trying to draw in air as the caped figure approaches.
“Heard all about the past few years,” he bites out. “Replacement-bird filled me in.” He swallows painfully. “Kind of surprised he didn’t fill you in.”
Batman moves then, barrels forward in what Jason recognizes as a crippling blow to the solar plexus. He rolls away just in time, clambers to his feet again to exchange blows.
It should be harder now. He’s amazed it doesn’t feel like it.
Lack of oxygen maybe. Starting to get punch drunk.
“Just what did you do to piss him off, B?” Jason challenges.
“I won’t ask the question a third time.”
“You won’t believe me ‘til you figure it out yourself.”
In the split second where he tries to parse the comment, Jason grabs hold of Batman in a move he learned from him long ago and perfected at Dick’s side, flipping him over his back in a punishing suplex.
There’s a muffled thump of a body hitting the ground, and Jason backs away, panting.
Batman’s already getting to his feet.
Goddamn him and his insane stamina…
“What would you do if I told you that grave over there—the most recent one in the family mausoleum? If I told you it’s empty,” Jason asks, still breathless. “That it’s been empty for five years.”
Batman snarls and is on him again.
“No body there while you went on training your bevy of child soldiers.”
They trade blows, fists and knees and kicks and blocks.
“That you being here tonight is just a pointless exercise in guilt to continue your damned mission.”
They have each other in a tight grapple hold now, and the vigilante’s face is inches from Jason’s.
“You cannot possibly imagine that I believe this…this ruse,” he grunts.
“Yeah, I think you do,” Jason wheezes back. “I think you feel it in your gut. You know whose arm you’re trying to break right now.”
“It’s not…possible…!”
“No, it really is—”
And then Bruce gets his free hand on his face, fingers punishing against the bones and muscles. Jason jerks backward, feels elastics snap against his head as the surgical mask is ripped off, and then he’s reeling backward.
He lands in a crouch, looking up as Bruce starts toward him.
And then freezes.
The cowl might hide his features, but Jason knows how Batman’s body language changes when he’s trying not to betray shock.
“Jason…”
“Hey, B,” Jason smirks.
⁂⁂⁂
To Be Continued
________________________________________________________________
There is no universe where Jason doesn't pick a fight with Bruce when he comes back, reasons or not. Some of the dialogue was from Under the Red Hood, just adapted to this timeline/'verse. Tune in next time for more emotionally stunted reunions! 
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chemicalmagecraft · 5 years
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I Would Totally Kick Jiraiya’s Butt Chapter 13
I sighed, then took another bite of my dango. The page of my book flipped, and my frown deepened. Poison-making looked hard... And more than that, it was complicated and boring. Sure it was practical, but nowhere near as fun as, say, the chakra threads I was using to "levitate" both my dango and my book (I didn't want to get dango on my book or book on my dango).
"'Sup, kid," a familiar voice said, and I extended another thread to catch the hand that reached for my dango. "Almost didn't recognize you there with that tan, but who else casually uses a jutsu like that?"
"Anko," I greeted faux-angrily. She was somehow almost always there whenever I went to get dango, and I eventually managed to talk to her. "I do believe that I told you not to touch my dango." The thread around her wrist went slack and dissipated, allowing her to withdraw her hand. She just shrugged, sat down across from me and started eating her dango.
"So is that a book about poison?" she asked me.
"I don't really understand it, but yeah it is."
"I happen to know a thing or two about poison, especially after..." Her expression soured. "Him."
I closed my book and licked my lips. "Speaking of him," I said. "I do believe I've figured something out." I raised my hand to one of my DSC earrings, and it floated to the back of her neck, where her curse mark was. "Ah, I was right. I should be able to partially nullify your seal."
Her eyes widened. "You can?"
"I mean, I don't think I'll be able to remove it without causing major damage to you, at least not without the original notes, but this..." I used the demon sage core to extract the natural energy from the mark, then placed a seal on it to prevent it from drawing in more. "Feel better?"
She rubbed the curse mark. "Yeah, lots..."
I smiled slightly and my core returned to my ear. "That's because I just removed its ability to accumulate natural energy, and drained it too. Now that I've become more adept at using these things, I can use them to detect the natural energy around me. Orochimaru's mark certainly is interesting, shame the man himself was terrible."
Anko grinned at me. "You know, I actually have access to all his stuff, seeing how I was his apprentice and all. He didn't like the idea of anyone else touching his notes, so me giving it to someone is probably a good way to spite him. Plus I could teach you way more about poison than some dumb old book!"
My grin widened. I'd have sealed her mark either way, but finding a dialogue tree that got me Orochimaru's notes and explanations on it was a godsend. "Looks like I found myself a teacher, then. Oh, and by the way."
"What's up, kid?"
"That seal was probably screwing with your metabolism. You'll probably have to actually work off all those sweets now."
Anko winced. "Dammit..."
kukukuku~
I meditated under a tree again, paying some attention to Hinata playing with Naruto and Tenten as with before. This time, though, I was just doing the regular sage training and not my weird convoluted separate-recombine approach. I'd managed to use a single sage core to make a really thin barrier that pivoted like the platforms on the spires the toads had that also made it look like I was just mildly floating. "What are you doing?" a voice asked. I couldn't see him with my eyes closed, but Chikage within my shadow shared her sight with me. And then I would've figured it out anyway from the sound of someone eating chips behind the original speaker.
"Why hello, Nara Shikamaru and Akimichi Chōji," I said, not even opening my eyes. "I am meditating on the energy that abounds in nature, and surrounds us all. With it, a true sage can do incredible feats."
"That can't be true," Shikamaru said. "Wouldn't we know more about such a troublesome power?"
I smirked, and a random falling leaf that got too close to me was shredded from a disturbance in the surrounding natural energy.
"Woah!" Chōji exclaimed. "What was that?"
"Mendokuse..." Shikamaru muttered. "So why don't people use this more often?"
"I don't know," I admitted. "I believe it has something to do with how the only other user of the power of the sage that I know of with no relation to the summon animals of snake or toad was Senju Hashirama, who at the same time one might argue had a slight relation to toads through his distant ancestor. And I have a theory that he actually had some sort of natural energy-related power even beyond sage powers, one tied to his bloodline."
"Mendokuse... How do you know this?"
"Magic. While I don't suggest you actually draw in natural energy without supervision from someone who would be able to expel the natural energy from your body, you seem like the type to be content to lie still from elongated periods of time, which you could use to try and sense the natural energy in the air, which is the basis of using sage power."
Shikamaru blinked. "So you're saying I could potentially get a lot more powerful just by sitting around?"
"You need to draw in natural energy for a bit before you can actually use it, but yeah. Also, you need a good amount of chakra before it's safe to do it, so don't expect to just take a nap and get superpowers."
"Well then why are you doing it?" Chōji asked. "Even if you have more chakra than normal, you're a kid like us. Is it really that safe?"
"Tseseseseh~" I chuckled. "Nnnope, I'm just an idiot with a lot of chakra."
"You're the one kid Ino told us about, aren't you?" Shikamaru asked. "The weirdo."
"Yup."
"Mendokuse..."
I felt a wave of bad vibes through Chikage and heard some shouting. I bolted upright, forgetting that I was in the middle of absorbing natural energy. My leg gave out from under me, causing me to drop to one knee and suck in a breath. "Are you okay?" Chōji asked me.
I rolled up the pant of the offending leg, revealing skin that was half crystallized and half scaled. "Ah, that's not good," I muttered, then licked my lips. "This is why you don't mess around with natural energy without adult supervision, kids..."
"Mendokuse... Is there any way we can help you?"
"No, hang on. I got this. Let's see here..." I concentrated, using my experience manipulating natural energy with my various unconventional forms of sage jutsu to help me. The problem was that I had natural energy concentrated in my leg. I didn't have much in the other parts of my body, so I just redistributed the natural energy. My leg returned to normal as I felt the surge of power from a proper sage mode. Thanks to Chikage, I was able to see that the markings around my eyes changed to be the yin-yang symbol thingy, and moon symbols appeared on my cheeks. 
"There, that's better," I said. "Really hope this stuff isn't carcinogenic... Let's go check out that shouting." Before either of them could object, I shot off. Even with my sage chakra not quite as potent as it could have been on account of my age and chakra capacity, I was still a lot faster than the two. I did go at a pace that they could easily catch up to, though, on account of the fact that I didn't want to burn through all of my sage mode. At what Chikage told me was the source of the negative emotions, I felt two familiar chakra signatures, very much in a panic. I came upon the scene. Thankfully, there were only a few people there, and they all appeared to be too afraid to do anything.
"Get back!" the guy holding the knife to Ino's throat shouted. He appeared to have taken her and Sakura hostage. Judging by the sack of loot on the ground by him, he'd robbed someone and was trying to get away. I could tell that neither he nor any of the onlookers had much shinobi training with the exception of one man who was probably a low chūnin judging by his chakra, which was probably why there was such an impasse. "I'm not afraid to use this!"
"Really?" I asked. "This is the third young clan heiress that I've had to save. This is starting to be bad writing."
The man pointed the knife at me. "What are you gonna do, kid?"
I gave him a twisted smile. "This." I flashed through a series of practiced seals as fast as I could, drawing on the power of my sage cores, punctuated with a technically-superfluous slam surface seal. "True Demonic Illusion: Summoning of the Shadow Demon!" I shouted as an illusory seal made of some sort of dark energy formed underneath me. As I stood back up, a false, distorted Chikage rose from the ground behind me, forming from the dark energy. The illusion of Chikage looked older and larger, and it had sharpened teeth, claws, and eyes of pure shadow. To add to the dark imagery, it was wearing Chikage's new outfit, which she'd made inspired by the gothic lolita style to go with her whole "demon of a thousand shadows" shtick. It actually looked rather good on our dark skin. The illusion beckoned to the man, causing a feeling of unease in the bystanders.
To the would-be kidnapper, though, the illusion caused a pressure of unrelenting foreboding as the sun went dark and the land turned to shadows. "What the hell is that!?" He dropped his knife and hostages and tried to run.
"I think not," I said dully as my shadow, the true Chikage, reached his shadow, causing him to freeze up and my shadow to return to normal from Chikage entering his. "You've been possessed by my demon." In truth, the entire genjutsu was just smoke and mirrors, albeit elaborate ones. The illusory Chikage was both a medium to the hallucination suggestion and misdirection from Chikage's shadow movement. The reason that that worked, though, was because Chikage had the ability to possess people by entering their shadows, which was awesome. Without need for the genjutsu, I dropped it, letting the phantasmal copy fade from existance. I snapped my fingers, causing the man to stand up straight so he wasn't stuck in an awkward position, then walked up to Ino. "You okay?" I asked, holding a hand out to her.
She sniffed. "My neck hurts a bit and I scraped my knees, but I'm good now." She smiled and let me pull her up, and I placed two fingers on the thankfully small cut on her neck. Green-hued chakra sprang from my fingers and sealed her wound. I moved on to her knees, then walked over to Sakura.
"What about you, Sakura-chan?" She whimpered and showed me her hands, which were all scraped up. I smiled at her and placed my hands on hers, but before I could even use my basic healing jutsu something weird happened. The natural energy flowed out of my body and into her. Whatever she was doing, I could tell she didn't even know she was doing it. Once my sage mode was depleted I pulled her up and removed my hands from hers, revealing perfectly unscathed palms.
"Thank you, Kouki-kun," she said. Whatever the heck happened, she was now naturally passing natural energy through her body. If I had to bet, she'd automatically heal any injuries that happened to her. Interesting.
"Thanks, Kouki," Ino said. I looked over to her and noticed she was smiling and blushing slightly. She probably didn't have an actual crush on me considering her age, but I knew how she would think about the dashing knight in shining armor...
"Mendokuse..." I internally sighed.
"Mendokuse..." Chikage telepathically agreed.
"Mendokusai desu ka?" Usagi asked.
"Mendokuse..." Chikage and I mentally chorused. At least if she kept that up I'd save Sasuke a bit of trouble and she wouldn't ruin her friendship with Sakura, but... ugh...
"Where's the thief?" an Uchicop asked as he landed, then saw the guy standing there and whipped out a kunai. "You! Stop!"
"He's under my spell, he literally can't move without my sayso," I said. "Or at least I'm assuming the guy who took some hostages and had a sack of what appeared to be ill-gotten goods was also a thief."
"What do you mean, under your spell?" he asked. The thief's shadow morphed into Chikage's for a moment, just a flash.
"A genjutsu that I thought of after hearing of the Sharingan's genjutsu-casting abilities," I lied. "It uses a special ability of mine with an illusion as a visual medium to place a suggestion on a victim that allows me to control them. Unfortunately I can only do one person at a time so far and a powerful enough shinobi would probably be able to resist it, but hopefully it'll get a lot more useful when I'm older."
"Right," the cop said, then cuffed the crook. "Well, thanks for the help." If I had to guess, he was one of the more good-natured Uchiha. I doubted he'd have anything to do with the rebellion. "I'm sure you'll be a good ninja when you're older. For now, though, maybe you should stay out of trouble, kid."
"No promises." He snorted and escorted the guy away, taking the sack with him.
"What was that?" Shikamaru asked me. "And don't say genjutsu, because I know the difference between an illusion and shadow-manipulating jutsu."
"Definitely not your clan's jutsu, don't worry," I muttered so only he'd hear. I leaned over just a bit so that the tip of my shadow touched a nearby shadow, letting Chikage come back to me. "I was telling the truth when I said it was a special power of mine."
"It have anything to do with that weird meditation thing you did earlier?"
I smirked a bit and licked my lips. "Let's go with that. You'll never be able to use it, if that's what you're asking."
"Mendokuse..."
kukukuku~
I sighed, lying down on my bed. "What are we going to do about Ino?" I asked Chikage.
She shrugged, floating around as always. Not that I could blame her. "We... let her down gently?"
"Yeah, but how? Relationships are hard..."
"Gonna have to get back to you on that one..." We both sensed someone coming to the clan compound.
"Hey, is that..."
"Lemme check." She shadow-travelled there and back, only gone for less than a second. "Yup, Aburame Shibi. And it looks like those bugs we spared earlier were kikaichū, 'cause he's bringing a couple mutant ones in a bug cage." I nodded, then we became whole again. I silently walked to the front door, where the clan leader already was.
"...apologize for the intrusion, but earlier a member of our clan's kikaichū were drawn to an unusual source of chakra located within your compound," he explained to my father. "She managed to regain control of them, but not before some had died and others had... changed." He brought out the mutated bugs, which had rune-like markings much like the first-stage curse marks. They were acting pretty crazy. "They may not be able to escape this cage, but they are still far livelier than the normal variety and much harder to control. I am not accusing you or any of your clan of anything, but I would very much like to know what caused this, as it might prove useful to our clan."
"Well, the thing about that is..." Dad said.
"Would you trust him, father?" I asked, announcing my presence.
He nodded. "Go ahead, Kouki."
"Right, let's go somewhere more private," I suggested.
"So," I said once we'd come to a suitable room, "what the kikaichū felt was... let's just say a jutsu of mine." I brought out the half-sized demon sage core that fed on the Aburame's bugs. "This is called a demon sage core. Despite all appearances, it's a living thing that generates special chakra that, among other things, can be used to make more demon sage cores from living animal tissue. Unfortunately that's the only way to make it, though, and since I don't want to mass-murder people or large animals, that pretty much means I have to use its animal-attracting properties to occasionally draw in and cannibalize insects. I was doing that earlier, which is why you're here." On a hunch, I reached out to the demon kikaichū, influencing them through my power within them. They instantly calmed, becoming absolutely still. "Could you release them?"
"I see..." He opened the small cage. I commanded the bugs, causing them to fly out of the cage as one. They entered a formation on my command and began orbiting my body.
"Don't worry," I said, noticing a small shift in his emotional state. "I have no interest in usurping the kikaichū jutsu and even if I did I can only control these mutated ones through my power that they absorbed, if that's what you're worried about."
"I understand. It is interesting, though, that you're able to control them so easily."
"I doubt I could control anything more complex than them with so much ease. Not without a lot more of the special chakra, anyway." A thought occurred to me. "Actually, I thought of another thing I'd like to try, though this one might possibly have the potential to be arguably a usurpation of your clan secrets, so I'll only try it with your permission."
Dad sighed. "Why am I not surprised... I apologize for my son, Shibi. He... can be rather focused on power, even if he tries not to overstep boundaries."
"I am fine," Shibi said. "Why? Because he asked for my permission, and clearly wishes not to overstep his bounds. Tell me, Kouki-kun, what is it you wish to try?"
"I don't have much data to go by, but I think I might be able to gain special chakra-related powers by granting my special chakra to a subject and then absorbing it once it's fused with their chakra," I explained. I'd noticed, after the whole demon sage seal debacle, that I'd gained extra, Uzumaki-like vitality. After a talk with Ai, I found out that I could still manifest the adamantine chains that I used against her, despite that chakra having been fully processed by my body, much like how absorbing enough of Shukaku's chakra combined it with Kurama's chakra in me. 
It made sense, all things considered, that a combination of my red chakra, which was easy to transfer from body to body, and natural energy, which had mutagenic properties, would allow my body to adapt to others' chakra intead of just adapting other chakra to me. In fact, I could also make my chakra signature almost identical to hers, which was probably useful somehow. "I'd like to see if I could gain the kikaichū's ability to drain and absorb regular chakra by, well, killing some of them by draining them dry. With your permission, of course."
Shibi nodded slightly. "An interesting power. Could you grant that ability to another?"
I shrugged. "Maybe. I mean, I didn't exactly come with a manual, but if you want me to see if I could grant some of your people kikaichū powers then I'd certainly be willing to find out. Plus, the possibilities..." I grinned. "Tseseseseseh~" I hiss-chuckled, then licked my lips. "It's certainly something I'd be willing to do for you. Is that a yes?"
"I would prefer if you left a few for us to study, but take as many as you need."
"Alright, then. Let's see if half works, shall we?" Half of the beetles returned to the cage, while the other half landed on my hand. They didn't bite me, but I had them start draining me to get a feel for how their power worked. "Assimilation jutsu." Safisfied by what I felt, I reversed the flow of the chakra, capitalizing on the connection the chakra-draining gave us to more easily suck the chakra out of their bodies. Despite the enhanced lifespan and vitality granted from their mutation, they stilled and fell from my body as all the chakra left them. "Do you want the corpses or can I try to resuscitate them to add to one of my cores?" I asked.
"Do as you please. Did it work?"
I commanded the demon sage core to go at the recently-deceased beetles, then looked inward. "It feels like it's working, but my body has to 'digest' the chakra before I can use it. And it might be partially physical, in which case I might not have the power. I'll get back to you on it. Now." The demon sage core, slightly bigger now that it was done absorbing the bugs, floated over to Shibi. "Don't worry, it's harmless unless it's specifically made to attack someone."
He took the core. "Why are you giving this to me?"
"As Father said, I'm... more than a little obsessed with power, I admit. It doesn't have to be my power, though. I'm also interested by my allies' power, even my enemies' power. And giving my allies power?" I grinned slightly. "Well, I'm sure you can tell how I feel about that. I'm not even worried about if you turn against me for some reason. We've already established that those things are less than useless against me. Not to mention, I'm getting something else out of this too."
"How so?" Shibi asked.
"Kikaichū, like most insects, have a low lifespan, and can reproduce at a rapid rate because of that. It wouldn't be too much to ask, then, to sacrifice any of your kikaichū at the end of their lifespan when they start to become less useful to you to that core to produce more demon sage cores for me, would it?"
"We feed our dead kikaichū to the living, but we can feed some to it, if that is the price for having it to study."
"Good. Make a snake seal and pulse some chakra at the thing to send it into 'eat' mode for a couple of minutes, which'll make it eat any insect-sized organism that touches it. Hopefully. Just in case, don't touch it while it's in eat mode."
"Suddenly I feel as though I should not be holding this," Shibi said, then placed the core in a little baggie that was probably for dead bugs."
"Probably a good idea, once it's fully out of my influence. This close to me, though, I don't have to concentrate on it to have some measure of control over it. It should stay more or less inert, though, in a state where it'll produce chakra enough to fill its stores and not resist kikaichū draining. Tell me if it doesn't work quite right, though, and I'll try to make adjustments."
Shibi got up. "Thank you for this, Kouki-kun. I will do my best to make you not regret giving it to me."
I gave him smile. "Goodbye. Make sure to only let people you trust near that thing, or even aware of its existence for that matter. Good luck!" Shibi faltered a bit, then continued on. "This is going to be fun," I said.
kukukuku~
A/N: The next chapter's going to be a time skip. Well, an even longer time skip.
And I'm actually going to do a poll! I'm not entirely sure how the Hyūga clan would take Kouki having the power to copy their bloodline, but the subject would definitely come up over the course of the time skip, so I'll leave that up to you guys!
A: Kouki is allowed to gain the Byakugan, on account of being a Hyūga.
B: Kouki isn't allowed to gain the Byakugan, on account of not being born of the clan.
I'm leaning more towards B, but I won't not do A if enough people want to see it. And by the way, I'm welcome to and invite other suggestions.
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bts-svt-mx · 6 years
Text
Maid For You (Part 3) Taehyung x Reader
Author: bts-svt-mx
Taehyung x Reader
Jungkook x Reader
Rating: Fluff, M, eventual smut if i get to it lol
Tags: Slow burn, Enemies to Lovers AU, Idol! Taehyung, Taehyung x Reader, Jungkook x Reader, Hoseok, mentions of other members
Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5 (M), 6, 7, 8, 9, 10
Word Count: 2,400
Description: Wanting to get out of your parents house and experience what the world had to offer is way more expensive than people tell you it will be. So when your glamorous “manager to the stars” cousin Hoseok hooks you up with a  job as the live-in maid for a hillside, massive mansion, you feel as though life might actually be looking up. That is until the mansion’s absentee high profile celebrity owner surprises you by moving back in leaving you to wonder if this mansion is big enough for you and his huge ego. 
>>>
Chapter 3:
“Now if you’ll excuse me,” You push yourself away from in front of the refrigerator putting the mop in the small cleaning supply closet a few steps away. Taehyung hasn’t moved an inch. Now it’s his turn to be speechless. “I have a job to continue doing seeing as I’m the main person making sure your house doesn’t end up looking like an abandoned dump with all the dust the piling up from no one EVER USING ANYTHING HERE,” You practically scream the last part in his direction, words still reverberating off the walls as you turn swiftly on your heel to head rather quickly to your room on the West side of the mansion.
You had a phone call to make.
>>>
“Yo, yo, yo Y/N-o! What can I do for my awesome cousin on this beautiful day?” Hoseok’s sing song voice just made this situation a whole lot more annoying to you for some reason. Steam was practically coming out of your ears, you were so pissed off. As you plop yourself on your large bed, little Hodu immediately jumps up to snuggle with you.
“What the hell Hoseok?!” You screech through the phone at a half yelling, half whispering level. Hodu being the only thing stopping you from making a bigger fuss since you didn’t want to scare the puppy. And besides, Taehyung could have followed you to your side of the mansion so you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of hearing you go crying to your cousin (and his manager) after what he said to you. Or rather, what you said to each other.
“Woah, Y/N. Calm down. I’m sensing some hostility here!” The ever smiling boy laughed from the other side of the phone. God knows where he could be right now. Brazil? Hong Kong? Tokyo? LA? Judging by the loud chatter in the background it seems as though whatever city he’s in right now, he’s definitely somewhere with a lot of people.
“How could you not tell me that I am the live-in maid for Kim Taehyung, the most famous pop star in the world?!” A year ago you would have asked that question with excitement and happiness, but now it’s spilling out of your mouth with fire and anger. “And that he didn’t know he even had a live-in maid?!”
A loud round of laughter along with some glasses clinking comes from the background of Hoseok’s side but fades as it sounds like he is walking away from the main source of the noise. “Well this definitely isn’t the reaction I was expecting from you,” He chuckles. “I thought you would be way happier about this. Jumping up and down- Thanking me even... Little miss Future Mrs. Kim Taehyung,” He teases. 
At that your cheeks turn red with embarrassment. Damn Hoseok for reading your personal journal from your lovesick fangirl days! You didn’t have any siblings so Hoseok had gladly taken the role as your older brother, doing all the annoying things an older brother would do growing up. Like reading through your diary for example.
A scoff leaves your mouth. What a naive little teenager you were. “Well, that was before I found out he’s actually the biggest douchebag in the entire world!” You can’t help but yell that part a little bit. Seriously, how does Hoseok manage him? You would want to tear your hair out every time you even so much as looked at him.
“Oh come on Cuz’. He’s really not that bad. The fame just got to his head a little! Trust me, there’s a great guy underneath that front he puts on for everyone,” Hoseok explains, his voice a little muffled with the sound of crunching of chips in between some of his words.
You sigh. Of course Hoseok has a different opinion on him, he’s his manager. “Well he might be like that with you, but you should have heard wha-”
Hoseok’s infectious laughter bursts through the phone. He’s clearly not listening to you anymore. “Oh there’s no way in hell you can beat me at Pool, Jeon Jungkook!”
This is a serious issue! Why can’t Hoseok ever just- Wait. 
Did I hear that name right? Jeon Jungkook? The up-and-coming singer/dancer/heartthrob Jeon Jungkook? 
You’ve got to be kidding, he is so hot! How does Hoseok know literally every freaking famous person ever!
Ugh. Focus up Y/N. You have a different pop star to deal with right now.
“Seriously, Hoseok, listen to me!” It comes out as more of a plea then you would like it to but really, how are you supposed to work for this guy? What if Taehyung fires you? What are you going to do about your new life in the city if that happens? You finally had a good group of friends and really fun hobbies... You couldn’t move back home. You still needed to find your calling here.
“Yah! Wait for me kid! Look, Y/N, I gotta go,” His voice sounds rushed and shallow as if he’s just started to jog somewhere. “Just trust me on this, ok Y/N? You’re the best-”
 And click.
“Hoseok? Hoseok!! Hobi!” You pull the phone away from your ear to reveal your home screen once again lighting up your cell phone. He hung up on you. Great.
Obviously you were on your own in this situation.
The remainder of your frustration exits your body in a good old fashioned muffled scream into your pillow.
How did you end up here? What happened to the amazing set up of being a maid living in a humongous mansion, not having to worry about rent or bills, only truly cleaning up after yourself and Hodu every day on top of the light cleaning and other miscellaneous tasks you did weekly to upkeep the place?
Oh yeah. Kim Taehyung happened.
Looking back, you may have overreacted in the situation with Taehyung. You can usually keep your mouth shut well enough but once it crosses a certain point of disrespect, you always tend to snap. You just had such little tolerance for anyone who thought they could treat another human being with such a superiority complex as that that boy had.
So what now? Obviously you still were going to live and work here if you could. You needed this job and a place to live. As much as you loved your parents, going to live back home, leaving the beginning of a life that you made for yourself in the city just wasn’t an option.
You’ll just have to endure it. Living here while simultaneously working around Taehyung and his huge ass ego.
And you hoped. Maybe, maybe you just caught him on a bad day. Maybe he wasn’t the egotistical douchebag he made himself out to be.
Maybe if he apologized, you could actually be his friend.
---
Yeah, you weren’t getting that apology any time soon.
Thankfully you hadn’t seen Taehyung for the rest of the day. Only venturing out of your wing of the mansion to tiptoe to the backyard avoiding ‘Taehyung Territory’ (which you had officially decided to call it) to that much needed sauna before rushing back to your side making yourself dinner in your own kitchen and tucking yourself and Hodu into bed early.
But the next day, barely even a step out of the white marbled hallway leading out of your wing, you collided with a hard, tall body, so hard it almost knocked you to the ground.
Inwardly you cringed. You didn’t even need to look up to figure out who you had just body checked. There goes your plan to approach him casually and try to make amends.  Truly, could your luck get any worse with this dude?
Bracing yourself for the worst, slowly you lift your head to meet his gaze. His features sat stone cold, clearly unaffected by your unfortunate clumsiness. He didn’t even make a move to catch you in case you fell.. That douchebag..
The stare you two share goes on for a couple of seconds too long, his expression never changing. Well clearly he isn’t going to say anything so you guess it’s up to you.
“Hi... Um- I mean I’m sorry. I should have watched where I was going..” Ugh. Getting that out was difficult. Wow the ground is so fascinating! And it definitely isn’t as scary as the death stare Taehyung is giving you right now.
Well at least you’re dressed in presentable clothes today, with your usual look of slightly wavy hair and enough makeup to make you actually look kind of nice. Not that you really cared what he thought about how you looked but honestly, what was the boy doing over here?
“You’re up early.” Is all he says back to you. Morning voice apparent in the raspiness of his speech.
Wow, thanks Captain Obvious. Your painting class this morning starts at 9:00am and the drive there could take a while depending on traffic. It was currently 8:00am and honestly if you’re going to be stuck with him for a while beating around the bush like this you were definitely going to be late.
A realization hits you. Crap, this is the first time you’ve seen him since you blew up on him yesterday. What if he walked all the way over here from his side of the mansion to fire you as soon as he woke up?
Oh no, oh no, oh no. Please don’t fire me. He can’t do this. You can’t lose this job.
You need to do some damage control. Plastering on a polite smile onto your face to hide your fear, you look up at him once again. “What can I do for you, Taehyung?”
Why did we have to start off on the wrong foot like this? There are so many things you’re going to miss out on once you’re forced to move back home. No more karaoke nights with your city friends, no more painting and dance classes, no more fun nights out drinking-
“I believe you have something of mine.” His low voice breaks you out of your downward spiral.
What? You have something of his? What could you possibly have that is his? He didn’t even get here until yesterday.
The small sounds of yipping behind you answers your question and the realization hits you.
How could you forget about little Hodu? He must have heard Taehyung’s voice from the other side of the door. Nodding your head and trying to hide your look of surprise that his first conversation with you hasn’t yet turned to him firing you, you turn and head back down the hallway to open your door.
Aww, you really loved Hodu… He was one of the only things to keep you company in this huge house. But Hodu was Taehyung’s and even though you’ve practically been his mother for the past couple of months, Hodu did belong to him...
Taking a deep breath and mentally saying goodbye to your little friend, you open the door slowly before it pushes against you as Hodu happily comes charging out of your hallway and directly into Taehyung’s arms.
Your gaze follows Hodu as Taehyung happily sweeps little Hodu up into his arms with ease and rises him up in the air Lion King style.
The brightest smile you’ve ever seen on Taehyung covers his face and he looks genuinely... Happy. You didn’t realize before, but this is the first time you have seen an authentic smile on his face since you met him.
It kind of reminds you of how Taehyung was when you first started liking him at the beginning of his career. Carefree, loving, unapologetically happy, boy-ish, silly. Later in the years that you had liked him you had noticed a change in the way he acted in interviews and fan meets. Of course he still put on a happy face but something had changed as he grew up in the industry. You chalked it up to him just being more used to the celebrity life, that he was just a little tired maybe… But maybe it was because you now knew him in real life without any need to put on a happy face for a camera that you realized that Taehyung may have just been pretending to be this perfect angel for a really long time now.
Or maybe you were reading too deeply into this.
But honestly, ever since yesterday you weren’t really sure if the boy in front of you had any capability of being able to be nice to anyone or anything. Well at least he was capable of showing real emotion even if it was towards a dog.
Taehyung’s gaze returns back to you and his expression instantly goes cold again.
Glad to see that lasted.
“You’re dismissed.” Taehyung snaps turning on his heel to head towards the direction of his own wing of the mansion.
His curt words left you confused. “I’m sorry what? I’m dismissed?” The words come out before you can stop them. Seriously Y/N when did it become so hard for you to keep your thoughts to yourself?
Taehyung slowly turns back halfway towards you, cocking his head. Hodu still happily panting from excitement in his arms. “I said, you’re dis-missed.” He says, overly annunciating each part. 
“Unless you care to stay in that same spot all day long. Which I personally wouldn’t care to do but, be my guest.” He purrs, talking so nonchalantly it bothers you in an indescribable way. 
Suddenly, he snaps the hand that’s not holding Hodu up quickly like he’s just remembered something important. “Wait I’m sorry, I misspoke. I meant to say..” Taehyung slowly leans towards you, his face close enough for you to be able to see the faint scar near his lips. “Be my maid,” He pulls back as his lips curve into that taunting smirk of his, his words laced with malice and mockery.
You’re dumbfounded. Stuck in place. You try to come up with a witty comeback but you just... go blank. How could someone be so blatantly rude like that?
You try your best not to look surprised by his correction. That’s what he wants. He wants to get a rise out of you. He wants to make you angry and upset. But you wouldn’t give him that satisfaction. Not today, not ever. 
“What, so you’re not going to fire me?” Is all you can retort. You didn’t care if this was the worst time to bring it up. You didn’t care if he was going to throw you out on your butt in two seconds after asking. You had to know if he was going to do it. You just couldn’t leave this fear hanging over your head without an answer.
Taehyung arches his eyebrow as if to acknowledge your courage but his expression remains cold as ice. “I can’t fire you. Trust me I tried. Turns out Hoseok is the one who hired you and controls your pay. Technically he’s the only one who can fire you. So I guess I’m stuck with you.” And with that he stalks back into Taehyung Territory with little Hodu in his arms.
You don’t know whether to feel relieved or not. Yes, you were happy that you still had a place to stay and you didn’t have to move back in with your parents leaving your beginnings of a life behind. 
But on the other hand, Taehyung was right. You were stuck with him. 
This mansion might be big, but Taehyung’s ego was already suffocating you.
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andtails · 4 years
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A Prelude to Chaos Control - Chapter 10: Open Your Heart
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Click here to start from the beginning. You can also read this story on FanFiction.Net or Archive of Our Own.
*****
“Oh Cheese…what should we do?”
Cream sat against the rusted bars of the portable birdcage dangling from Dr. Robotnik’s Egg Mobile, flying high over the green hills below.
“Chao chao…” Cheese gave the distraught rabbit a hug, wrapping its small body around her belly.
“Thank you, Cheese.” She turned her head to the side, watching the land below as she allowed her arms to fall to her sides. “I guess there isn’t anything we can do right now.” Pulling herself up by the bars, she planted her feet on the metallic surface and furrowed her brow, a new sense of determination washing over her.
“Sonic will save us…I know he will.” She looked over at the chao, who since found a spot on her shoulder to rest upon. “We just need to have faith. I’m sure momma’s already called Sonic and is waiting for us at Eggman’s hideout.”
“Quit your yappin’ down there! I’m trying to enjoy the view!” Eggman’s angry voice startled the young chao, but the bunny remained as determined as ever.
“You’re not gonna get away with this, Eggman! Sonic will stop you for sure.”
“Oh really?” Eggman gave a bellowing laugh. “We shall see about that!” The evil doctor flipped a switch in his Egg Mobile and cleared his throat as a holographic video image appeared before him. A small, blackish-blue robot was lying on a table, reading a comic book as his hand plundered an open box of Mobian Scout™ mint chocolate chip cookies, bopping his head to the music through his earbuds.
“What is this? Bokkun! Are you slacking off on the job?” The robot didn’t respond, instead taking a sip of soda through a straw as his beady, lime green eyes remained glued to the book. Turning the page with his gloved hands, the small robot laughed in a high-pitched voice before burping rudely and filling his cheeks with several cookies.
Eggman’s face grew red with anger.
“ARE YOU DEAF, BOKKUN!?”
The robot blinked a few times as he looked forward, crumbs covering his face.
“Ahh, Doctor Eggman!” Bokkun said in a muffled voice, spewing cookie bits out of his mouth as he stood up, kicking over his soda while giving his creator a salute. The large yellow M on his torso gleamed in the artificial light of his monitor, his large, pointy ears stiff, and his red boots clasped together.
“Now that’s more like it.” The vein on Robotnik’s forehead receded. “Prepare the camcorder. We have a special message to deliver Sonic and his miserable friends.”
“Aye aye Doctor!” As Eggman’s image disappeared from the monitor, Bokkun sat back down on the table, eyeing the dark, sticky beverage dripping to the floor below. His attention then turned to the half-eaten box of cookies. He grabbed a few more, shoving them into his mouth before leaping off the table, allowing his body to hover with the jetpack attached to his back. He gleefully gave a muffled laugh as he flew down the hallway, entering a storage room full of small, yellow CRT televisions.
“Hmmm…” He raised a finger to his chin as he scanned the room. “Which one should I use today?” Taking a few more seconds to ponder, he decided on the identical television nearest him. Carrying it with his small arms, he nearly fell backward as he began to walk out into the hallway. Wobbling to the side as he strode onward, Bokkun made it to a small recording studio, complete with overhanging lights and sound dampeners covering the walls. Setting the television down, he floated up to the video camera already stationed on a tall tripod.
“Let’s see…” He stuck his teal-colored tongue out the side of his mouth as he configured the settings, rotating the focus ring mounted to the lens. Spinning the small preview monitor around, Bokkun floated into view of the camera. After sticking out his tongue, flexing his arms, and performing mid-air somersaults in front of the camcorder, he got out of the shot, chuckling to himself as he turned off the device to preserve battery.
As Bokkun turned to the door, Eggman stepped inside with Decoe and Bocoe following behind, pushing the caged bunny and chao on a dolly. The small robot winced at the sight of the captured rabbit, his mechanical heart beginning to pound as a drop of perspiration formed over his brow.
Cream…
“Hey Bokkun?” Decoe asked, waving his metallic hand in front of the small robot’s face. “You need a reboot or something?”
“Hello?” Bocoe added, tapping Bokkun’s spherical head, nudging him back into reality.
“W…what?” He looked up at the two taller robots and the evil doctor standing above him.
“Go man the camera before I disassemble you for parts!” Eggman barked, pointing toward the camcorder he had set up moments ago.
“R…right.” Bokkun flew up to the video camera, adjusting the focus as he stared through the lens with a beady eye. He sighed to himself as he positioned the camera so Robotnik was front and center, Cream’s portable prison in the corner.
“All right Bokkun, let’s get this show on the road.” Eggman cleared his throat, adjusting his red jacket as the small robot pressed the record button, shuddering at the sight of the distressed, imprisoned bunny. The small robot could hardly pay attention to the evil doctor’s words or turn the camera to match his movements; his eyes focused on Cream shaking in her cell, a sense of sadness filling his heart.
As Eggman continued giving his speech, Bokkun turned his face away from the eyepiece, instead pulling a heart-shaped locket out from inside his glove. With sad eyes, he looked at the happy picture of Cream within before sighing once more, slipping the locket back into his glove as he returned his attention to the recording at hand.  
*****
The sensation of something against his black nose woke Sonic from his peaceful slumber. Slowly opening his eyes, he watched as a butterfly rested against it, fluttering its wings as if to give him a show. Smiling to himself, the blue hedgehog raised a gloved hand toward his nose, allowing the butterfly to hop onto the tip of his index finger, staying in place as Sonic pulled his hand toward the side.
As the insect flew away, Sonic drew in a deep breath, allowing the moisture-filled air to fill his lungs as he sighed heavily, looking off into the distance to witness the sun glistening over the ocean surrounding Angel Island.
“What a morning.” Sonic placed his hands behind his head, looking up into the cloudless sky before noticing a slight pain emanating from his face. He winced as he inspected the bruise with a gloved finger.
What do I tell Amy when she sees my face?
Sonic looked up at the blue sky, taking in the pristine view as he wondered how to fib to the pink hedgehog.
Surely I can’t tell her the truth. That’d be too embarrassing for Tails.
After a few minutes of aimlessly studying the horizon, an idea popped into Sonic’s head.
I know! I’ll just tell her I tripped in the storm last night. Yeah…I…hit my face while climbing the stairs. She’ll definitely believe that!
The blue hedgehog chuckled to himself as his gaze turned downward. He observed as his younger brother slept against his chest, breathing softly, his namesakes wrapped snuggly around his torso.
“Heh…okay little buddy…a few more minutes.” Sonic closed his eyes, his hands supporting his head against the Master Emerald as he went back to sleep.
*****
Tails found himself in a white void, nothing distinguishable within his field of vision.
“This is odd.”
The orange fox peered around as he walked forward, his shoes clicking against the invisible floor as he seemingly made no progress in reaching his unknown destination. Before the young kitsune could further question this eerily familiar location, though, he heard a beeping sound coming from his utility belt. Fishing within its deep pockets, Tails felt what was making the noise.
“No…it can’t be.”
He peered down at the circular object, cracks all across its glass casing. Despite the damage, a dot was blinking on its screen.
“Hmmm…the radar is detecting an emerald a few hundred yards away.” The fox kept his eyes glued to his tracker as he marched onward, no thoughts on his mind other than reaching the location indicated by the device.
As if out of nowhere, the young fox walked face first into a stone wall. He rubbed his head only to find no pain. Taking his hand off his undamaged face, he looked up.
“Ah, must be the backside of the Master Emerald shrine.” Proving his hypothesis correct, the orange kitsune walked along its perimeter to reveal the same stone steps he had used numerous times in recent memory. Taking a deep breath, he climbed the stairs until he reached the top.
“Huh? What is this?”
The Master Emerald was sitting in its normal place, but leaning against the mystical gem was Sonic the Hedgehog, sleeping against the side with his hands resting behind his head, a smile on his face.
“And that’s…me?” Tails studied what appeared to be himself sleeping against Sonic’s chest, his namesakes blanketing him as he rested peacefully in the care of his older brother.
“Tails…Tails…”
“Who’s there?” Tails looked around as he tried finding the source of the high-pitched, feminine voice calling out his name. Taking a few steps forward, he heard a crunching sound beneath his feet. Moving his foot away, he gazed in horror at the broken detector he had smashed the night before, components and bits of glass strewn all around. Pulling out the detector from his utility belt once more, he visually compared the broken mess on the stone floor with the tracker in his hand, the blinking dot hovering in the center of the screen.
“Tails…listen to me…”
“Show yourself!” Tails yelled, putting the working contraption back in his pocket as he looked around frantically, hoping to find the source of the voice.
“The servers are the seven Chaos. Chaos is power…power enriched by the heart.”
“W…what does it all mean? Who are you?” Tails circled the Master Emerald, finding nobody hiding.
“The controller is the one that unifies the Chaos.”
Tails flew upward, planting his feet on top of the mystical gem before spinning his body around, scanning the void surrounding the shrine.
“Nothing…” The fox placed a gloved finger to his chin as he heard the voice once more.
“Open your heart, and your path will be made clear. Believe in Chaos…and yourself…”
“Believe in Chaos…and…myself?”
Tails pondered these words as he sat down on the Master Emerald, his namesakes fluttering as he stared up into the white nothingness above, propping himself up with his hands.
“Heh…if that’s all, I’m ready to wake up now.” He laid down with a smile on his face, his back cool against the top of the mystical gem, placing his hands behind his head for support.
“Wait until Sonic hears about this one.” As he thought about his older brother, recent memories flooded his mind, a tear escaping his eye as he wore a warm smile. Drying his face with a gloved finger, he stood up once more, cupping his hands around his mouth.
“Listen up…ummm…lady! Me and Sonic will crack your riddles and fix the detector! Just you wait!” Yelling into the empty void, he caught himself nearly slipping off the shiny surface of the gem before regaining his composure and continuing his speech. “I’ll believe in myself and Chaos and anything else too for that matter! With Sonic by my side, anything is possible!” He put his arms back to his side, his voice no longer echoing through the abyss.
“Anything…is possible.”
As he was about to fly off the Master Emerald, the ground beneath him began to shake. Balancing on one foot, Tails used his namesakes as additional support as the emerald emitted flashing green lights, static appearing all around the kitsune as dark clouds formed over the white emptiness above.
“Ahh!” Tails slipped backward, landing on his behind as he slowly slid off the front end of the Master Emerald.
“At this rate, I’ll fall on top of Sonic!” The orange fox tried using his hands to prevent himself from slipping further, but it was a futile endeavor; his fingers could not gain traction with the gem’s smooth surface.
“If this is a dream, then Sonic should be fine…but still!” Tails dangled off the side of the mystical gem by one hand, looking down to see the blue hedgehog and himself still sleeping peacefully below, except the base of the Master Emerald was much further away than he remembered. He shook his head as the ground stretched downward until he could barely make out a blue and orange dot below.
Looking back at the edge of the gem’s surface, he gritted his teeth as he attempted to pull himself up, a few more fingers losing their grip as he struggled to keep himself from falling.
“I know! I’ll use my tails!” Spinning his namesakes, he attempted to flee the shaking Master Emerald, but to no avail; a force beyond his control or understanding prevented him from taking flight.
“Figures…I hate dreams.” Tails closed his eyes as his pinkie finger slipped from the Master Emerald. Taking in a deep breath, he accepted his fate, allowing his body to fall back first with arms outstretched.
“Believe in Chaos.”
“And believe in yourself.”
These were the final words the young kitsune heard as the Master Emerald drew further away, his body falling into the endless white chasm below.
*****
Opening his eyes once more, Sonic was nudged awake by the rustling of his younger brother against his chest. The blue hedgehog looked down, feeling the kitsune’s heartrate rise against him as his breathing became labored.
“Hey little guy, it’ll be all right.” Sonic combed his hands through the namesakes still wrapped around Tails’ torso. The orange fox’s breathing and heartbeat returned to normal as he slowly opened his eyes.
“Wakey wakey, sleepy head.” Sonic patted Tails’ legs as the young kitsune rubbed his eyes, his sight still adjusting to the sunlight.
“W…what time is it?” His voice was groggy as he slapped his hands against his furry face in an attempt to wake himself up.
“I dunno.” Sonic raised his wristwatch communicator so both of them could see the large 11:00 AM figure blinking in and out of existence through the glass casing. “Heh, I guess we needed the sleep, huh buddy?”
“I suppose.” Tails was the first to pull himself up, unfurling his namesakes from his chest and he planted his feet against the stone surface of the Master Emerald shrine. The kitsune turned around to see his older brother stretching his arms upward, still sitting against the mystical gem behind them. Sonic paused as an outstretched hand hovered in front of him, smiling as he grabbed hold of Tails’ palm, allowing his younger brother to pull him up.
“I could go for a chiro appointment, though.” Sonic stretched his back, cracking sounds emanating from the blue hedgehog’s bones before placing his hands against his hips, looking into the clear blue sky.
Tails smiled up at the tranquil blue hedgehog, not a worry in the world. Noticing something out of place, though, he squinted his eyes, studying Sonic’s muzzle.  
“Hey Sonic, your face!” The orange fox pointed up at Sonic’s cheek as the blue hedgehog looked down, raising a hand to touch his muzzle.
“What about it?” Sonic felt around until he reached his bruise, except the dull pain he expected to feel was nowhere to be found. “What the…” Sonic dashed down the stone stairs of the Master Emerald shrine and bent over to look into a reflection of himself in a puddle along the dirt pathway leading to Knuckles’ cabin.
“Well I’ll be darned…” Pressing his fingers against his chin, Sonic moved his face around, eyeing his reflection intently as he tried to find any sign that the welt had ever existed.
“Hey Tails!” Sonic yelled from the base of the shrine, cupping his hands around his mouth. “My bruise is gone! Strange, isn’t it?”
“Yeah, strange…” The fox rubbed his chin as he looked across the valley in thought.
But how? The bruise should have remained on his face for at least a week, if not longer. I know Sonic recovers from injuries relatively quickly, but nothing quite like this. Unless…
Tails turned himself around, staring at the Master Emerald glimmering in the sunlight.
“Is this…the power of Chaos?”
“Power of what now?” Sonic asked, zooming back up the stairs and standing next to his younger brother, as if materializing out of thin air.
“…I think the Master Emerald healed you.”
“Huh?” Sonic looked at the orange fox with a dumbstruck expression. “Can it even do that?”
“Well,” Tails began, rubbing the back of his head with his hand, “I had another dream last night…about the Master Emerald.”
“And you think this dream helped fix my face?” Sonic ran a hand through his blue quills.
“I don’t know.” Tails stepped toward the Master Emerald, placing his palm against the mystical gem. “I hate to admit it, but it almost feels like magic.”
“Magic? You of all people believin’ in magic?” The two shared a laughed, Sonic rubbing the base of his black nose as the orange kitsune smiled up at his older brother.
“Mobians throughout history have attributed unexplainable phenomena to some sort of mystical, godlike, magical power. I’m sure there’s a logical explanation, though…if I’m ever gonna get my detector working, I’ll have to find out what it is.” Sonic stepped over to the orange fox, placing a hand on his shoulder.
“I’m sure you will, little bro…but remember what we talked about last night.” The blue hedgehog gently pointed his index finger in the young kitsune’s direction.
“Yeah, I know…don’t be too hard on myself n’ all.” Tails replied while nodding, giving the blue hedgehog an additional level of reassurance.
“Right on!” Sonic gave him a thumbs up, which he returned in kind. “Now let’s say we get some grub, huh?”
“Now that you mention it,” Tails looked downward, rubbing his belly as his stomach gurgled, “I am getting kinda hungry.”
“I’m sure Knuckles has a cure for that…let’s just hope it isn’t made of pumpkin this time!” They chuckled once more as the blue hedgehog began his descent down the shrine. Tails was about to take his first step as well, but he froze, turning back to face the Master Emerald once more.
“Thank you…for healing Sonic.” Tails returned to the mystical gem, rubbing it with a gloved hand, a feeling of warmth radiating through his palm.
“Hey, you comin’ or what?” Sonic yelled from the base of the shrine.
“Coming, Sonic!” Revving up his namesakes, Tails flew down the stairway, joining Sonic as they made their way back to Knuckles’ cabin, enjoying the sun against their fur and the light wind carrying the scent of the trees and the ocean to their nostrils.
As they entered the red echidna’s abode, they found everyone else was up as well.  
“Hey Knuckles! What’s cracki—” Sonic’s question was cut off as he watched Amy yelling into Knuckles’ face.
“What do you mean you don’t have any breakfast?!” Amy’s face grew red as she glared menacingly at the red echidna.  
“Well I don’t exactly keep a whole lot of food around the house, you know.” Knuckles kept his cool, choosing to keep his eyes closed, his forehead facing the floor. “And besides, even if I had food, my kitchen is a total mess! It’ll almost be noon by the time I clean it all up.”
“…Okay, fair enough.” Amy turned around, frustration still emanating from her.
“Amy’s got a point, though,” Rouge said, sitting at the kitchen table, keeping her head held up with her arms. “We can’t plan our next move on an empty stomach.”
“You’re gonna help us after all?” Amy asked, confusion written on her face as she turned to face the bat.
“Yeah…why not?” She shrugged he shoulders. “I don’t want Eggman to collect all the emeralds just as much as you guys, and anything to get me closer to Knucky here is a win-win for me.” The jewel thief gave the red echidna a long wink, her eyelashes fluttering as Knuckles’ face turned red.
“Yeah, think whatever you’d like,” the red echidna replied. “As long as we have your help, that’s all I care about.”
“Suit yourself, Knucky.” Rouge smiled at the red echidna as Sonic laughed from the entryway. Tails covered his mouth as he snickered alongside his older brother.
“So what are we gonna do about food then?” Amy asked.
“I think I know!” The party turned to Tails, who raised a finger upward, closing his eyes as he wore a bright smile. “I happen to keep a supply of provisions in the Tornado 2, as well as basic cooking equipment just for such emergencies.” The fox turned to Knuckles. “Why don’t you start a campfire so we don’t dirty up your kitchen even more.” He then turned to his older brother. “Hey Sonic, wanna race me back to the plane?”
“Would I?” Sonic’s lips broadened into a smile at the prospect. “You know me too well.”
“Heh, I know.” Tails itched the base of his nose in satisfaction, unintentionally imitating the blue hedgehog. Sonic smiled back at the orange fox, feeling truly hopeful about his younger brother for the first time in what felt like ages.
Glad to see you back, Tails.
“Last one there’s a rotten Eggman!” Tails bolted out the entrance, leaving Sonic behind.
“Hey, no fair!” The blue hedgehog shook himself from his stupor before running after his younger brother, leaving the cabin door wide open as the two made their way back to the biplane.
“Those two are something else,” Rouge observed.
“Yeah, I’ll say,” Knuckles replied, snorting as he left the cabin, walking along its perimeter until he came to the wooden awning on the opposite side, fetching a pile of logs kept dry from the evening rain.
*****
As Knuckles prepared the bonfire, Sonic and Tails were racing neck and neck, rapidly approaching the Tornado 2’s resting spot. Skidding to a stop, the blue hedgehog rolled himself into a ball, charging a spindash that would help him overtake the young fox.
Sonic launched himself forward, but instead of seeing the orange kitsune running in the distance, he watched as Tails remained still directly in the middle of the narrow path, his namesakes fluttering as he tightened his fists.
The blue hedgehog was rolling too fast to stop his momentum or dodge around the young fox. As he thought he was about to careen into him, Tails stepped to the side, charging his namesakes before whipping them toward the blue hedgehog, launching him back the other way like a tennis ball.
That clever lil’ kid.
“Sayonara, Sonic!” The orange kitsune snickered as he sped onward, widening the gap between them.
Sonic gradually flew back down the path, a slight curve in his projection causing him to careen higher. Holding out his arms at just the right time, the blue hedgehog grabbed onto a thick tree branch, his body twirling around several times before letting go, allowing himself to launch forward once more, rolling rapidly toward the unsuspecting fox.
“Huh?” Tails looked backward as his namesakes carried him closer to the Tornado 2, watching as a spherical blue form approached him. “Impossible! How could he have recovered that quickly?” Turning forward once more, the young kitsune increased the speed of his rotary tails, matching Sonic’s velocity as the blue hedgehog unfurled himself from spherical form and ran alongside his little brother.
“That was a clever move you had there, little guy.” Sonic smiled at Tails, giving him a thumbs up.
“Heh, not as much as your speedy recovery. How’d you do it?” Tails was huffing under his breath while the blue hedgehog showed no sign of exhaustion.
“Let’s just say you didn’t account for tree branches and my hands.” Sonic waved his palms forward, bits of bark still stuck to his gloves. The two chuckled under their breath as they picked up their speed.
“Almost…there…” Sweat formed along Tails’ brow as he reached his hands forward. “Whoever…touches the…plane first wins…”
“Right.” Sonic’s face turned serious, running with his arms behind his back as the two nearly closed the gap between themselves and the aircraft. “Time to finish this.”
As Tails blinked, he noticed a blue streak speed by, Sonic disappearing before his eyes.
“What the heck?” Tails jumped through a set of bushes, entering the clearing containing the grassy landing strip. The fox looked on as Sonic waved at him, lying on one of the plane’s wings, keeping his head upright with his other arm. Finally reaching the plane himself, Tails placed the palms of his hands against the metallic side of the Tornado 2. The orange kitsune breathed heavily, sweat rolling down his brow as he allowed himself a much-needed break.
“Ya did good, Tails.” Sonic jumped off the wing and patted his younger brother on the shoulder. “To be honest, I was worried there for a sec.”
“Heh…thanks...” Tails cracked a smile between labored breaths as he looked up at the blue hedgehog.
“You’re one of the only ones who can even come close to my speed. Just think how lazy I’d get without you ‘round!” Chuckling once more, Tails wiped the sweat from his forehead before fishing around his utility belt. After allowing his hand to search every pocket contained therein, the fox’s eyes turned wide, his jaw dropping in shock as his pupils shrank.
“What’s the matter, lil’ bro?”
“…I forgot the keys.”
*****
The sun was high in the sky, morning giving way to afternoon as the dynamic duo returned to the cabin for the second time. Sonic and Tails carried sealed bags of flavored oatmeal, a pot, small bowls, a set of spoons, and a ladle. Boiling tap water over the bonfire near to the edge of the floating island, Tails dumped a large packet of instant oats into the water, allowing the contents to cook and absorb. After stirring the pot, scooping a ladle-full of the oatmeal and lifting it to eye-level for a more thorough inspection, the young kitsune poured the breakfast into each of the small bowls before filling the pot with another container of water, placing it over the firepit once more, as he anticipated the group would be hungry for seconds.
“Wow Tails, this is really good!” Amy exclaimed, her face filling with color as a new sense of vigor pulsed through her.
“Yeah, way to go!” Knuckles added, giving the orange fox a hefty fist bump. Tails retracted his arm, blowing against his knuckles as he chuckled nervously.
“Now this is a meal fit for a hedgehog!” Sonic took several large, rapid bites before freezing, his face contorting as he pulled the silverware from his mouth.
“Water, water!” Sonic yelped as Tails handed him a bottle of H2O. The blue hedgehog gulped it down rapidly before sticking his tongue out and licking the palm of his gloved hand.
“Eww, gross Sonic!” Amy gave her boyfriend a pointed look, Sonic stopping mid-lick to match her glare.
“Whaa? ‘eye ‘oug ‘urs.” Sonic turned his face around, blowing air out of his mouth with the hopes of cooling down his burnt tongue.
“What he was trying to say,” Tails said, raising a finger in the air, “was ‘What? My tongue hurts!’” The friends laughed merrily as Sonic ran around the perimeter of the bonfire several times before finally setting himself back down on a makeshift log chair, picking up his warm bowl to continue eating.
“Well, if there’re no objections,” Knuckles began, looking out across the fire, “I think we can finally start planning our next course of action.”
“Before we do that,” Tails stood up, scratching the back of his head, “I…had another vision last night.”
“Another vision?” Knuckles raised a gloved finger to his chin.
“At least I think it was.” The young fox told the party about his dream, describing every last detail of his experience and the mysterious lady’s cryptic message.
“I wonder what it all means?” Sonic asked himself, looking toward his equally puzzled little brother.
“I think I know…” Knuckles stood up and walked toward the edge of the cliff, taking in the sight and sound of the ocean waves below.
“You do?” Tails walked toward the red echidna, observing him as he carefully studied the oceanscape stretching as far as the eye could see.
“I think you’re approaching the Master Emerald all wrong.” Knuckles turned to the orange fox. “You’re trying to study it scientifically. To unlock its secrets, you have to go beyond logic and reason.” He grabbed the kitsune’s hands, who gasped in surprise. “Trust the Master Emerald. Place your faith in the Master Emerald. Treat it like a friend instead of an experiment.”
Tails sighed to himself, allowing his hands to return to his sides as Knuckles let go of his wrists. Turning toward the ocean view, the fox sat down, holding his head up with his hands as he lost himself in thought.
How do I even begin to understand something so…illogical?
The orange kitsune knew in his heart Knuckles was right, even if he couldn’t provide a suitable explanation.
Knuckles placed a gloved paw against Tails’ shoulder.
“It may seem difficult, but as long as you open your heart, the Master Emerald will guide the way.”
Tails turned his head to face Knuckles once more before his gaze wondered down to the red echidna’s worn red and yellow shoes. Finally, the young kitsune furrowed his brow, looking back up at Knuckles with determination in his eyes.
“I don’t pretend to understand it all, but there’s one thing I do know.” Tails stood up, walking back to the bonfire, his friends staring back at him. “I’ll keep on trying! I’ll ‘open my heart’ a hundred times if I have to!”
Sitting back down on his log seat, the fox was greeted by Sonic’s hand patting him on the shoulder. Tails returned the gesture with a determined smile before picking up his bowl, eating as he enjoyed the company of his friends.
I’m so lucky to have them. I’d be lost without my pals…especially Sonic.
He looked up at the blue hedgehog, whose pinkie finger was wedged between his molars.
“Here, Sonic.” Tails withdrew a toothpick from his utility belt and placed it in the palm of Sonic’s free hand.
“Ah, you’re a life saver!” The blue hedgehog replaced his pinkie with the pick, dislodging an oat from between his back teeth.
Tails smiled back at him as he grabbed his spoon. Before he could take another bite, however, he heard a familiar ringing sound coming from the opposite side of the bonfire.  
“Oh, hold on a sec,” Amy said, raising her wristwatch communicator to her face.
Ah, that was one of the ringtones I programmed into her phone.
The fox blew into his spoonful of oatmeal as Amy pressed a button on her watch, Vanilla’s name blinking in bold letters across its screen.
“Hey Vanilla! How is it going?”
“Amy…please…help me…he…Eggman…took Cream…please help…”
“I don’t understand.” A look of worry struck the pink hedgehog’s face as the rest of the party listened in to the call from around the campfire. “Are you saying Eggman kidnapped Cream?” The elder bunny didn’t immediately respond, too overcome with tears and grief to remain coherent. Finally, after blowing her nose into a handkerchief, she spoke once more.
“Y…yes. Cream was so tough…so fearless for someone her age. She destroyed many of Eggman’s robots before her capture. I tried to stop him, but…” A new wave of sobs interrupted Vanilla’s explanation.
“There, there, it’ll be okay.” Amy tried to soothe the motherly bunny as much as anyone could from such a long distance.
“…he even tricked me into throwing him a Chaos Emerald. I’m such a fool…”
“A Chaos Emerald?” Knuckles asked, speaking over Vanilla’s crying. “Know where he went?”
“I already know where Eggman went.” The party looked over at the jewel thief, who sat quietly on the opposite side of the bonfire, studying the fingers on her outstretched hand. “He took the Chaos Emerald back to his fortress. Where else?”
“So that means Eggman has at least three emeralds now.” Knuckles folded his arms, looking down at the smoldering fire.
“And more importantly,” Amy added, giving the red echidna a stern glare, “Eggman took Cream! We need to do something.”
“Ames is right.” Sonic stood up, clenching his fists as he turned to face Rouge. “Can you lead us to Eggman’s lair?”
“Why certainly.” She gave the blue hedgehog a smile as she crossed her legs. “As long as I can come with.”
“The more the merrier!” Sonic replied as he turned to Tails. “How ‘bout we go save Cream with the Tornado 2?”
“You bet!” Tails tried to hide his excitement. He knew that he’d be engaging in an important mission to save his friend, but he simply couldn’t lie to himself; he really wanted to save the day with his older bro.
He needed this.  
“Well? What’re we waitin’ for?” Sonic turned to face the path leading back to the biplane. “Let’s go!”
“Right!” Just as the brotherly duo were about to dash off, however, the gang heard something up above, the sound of high-pitched laughter getting closer.
“What’s that?” Amy asked, squinting up at a small, dark figure slowly making its way toward the camp.
“It’s Bokkun!” Sonic looked up at the tiny robot, his beady, lime green eyes and M-shaped yellow belt buckle glistening in the afternoon sun as he descended to the camp, a cubical television in his arms. After he landed, Bokkun placed the television on the ground and stood next to it.
“All right everyone! Watch clo—” The messenger robot stopped as he took a whiff of the air. “Is that…is that oatmeal?”
“Ummm…yes it is?” Tails replied, a confused look on his face. “Why?”
“It’s just that…” Moisture began to fill Bokkun’s small eyes. “…Eggman doesn’t feed me very well, and his cooking is disgusting. I’d die for some good, sweet, delectable oatmeal.” The tiny robot approached Tails’ bowl of half-eaten breakfast, picking it up as he grabbed the metal spoon from within.
“Ummm, sure…help yourself.” Tails and the gang watched as the sad robotic henchman put the utensil in his mouth. He stopped mid-bite, the flavor almost causing him to glitch out as he opened his beady eyes as wide as they would go.
“This…this…” A smile appeared on his face, tears gushing from his eyes. “This is the greatest thing I’ve ever had in my life!” He began eating faster, matching Sonic’s speed as he wolfed down much of Tails’ leftovers.
“Oh no you don’t!” Amy grabbed the bowl away from Bokkun, the small robot reaching his arms out in a feeble attempt to snag it back. “First you’re gonna tell us what an Eggman robot like yourself is doing here, then maybe we’ll let you have some more.”
Bokkun wiped the tears from his eyes with the back of his hand.
“…Promise?”
Amy sighed heavily as she looked down at the pathetic robot peering up at her with shimmering eyes, his hands clasped together as if begging for more nourishment.
“…Promise.”
“All right!” Experiencing a sudden mood shift, Bokkun flung himself backward with his jetpack, landing in front of the yellow CRTV as he prepared to give his pre-rehearsed introduction. “Listen up, folks! I’ve got a special message from Eggman you won’t wanna miss!” Stepping to the side of the television, Bokkun pressed a button near the corner of its curved screen.
The party watched in horror as an image of Cream and Cheese flickered across the monitor, the two clasping the rusty bars of their birdcage-like prison. Bokkun turned his face away, a slight blush appearing on his face.
“Sonic…Tails…anyone…please help us.”
“Chao, chao…”
*****
I hope you enjoyed chapter 10! I have a few updates and announcements below:
I slightly altered the ending of chapter 9 to make the amount of time Vanilla spent lamenting in the backyard over Cream’s kidnapping more ambiguous. This was to fill the inadvertent plot hole I almost created where Bokkun arrives to Angel Island shortly after the kidnapping. #CrisisAverted
Also, if you have the time, I’d appreciate it if you checked out the poll I posted on my Fan Fiction account; I’ve been tossing around a follow-up to “A Prelude to Chaos Control” since I began writing this story which would inevitably be a reimagining of the events of Sonic X, except with an emphasis on Tails, taking away money as a superpower, swapping around some human protagonists, and making a bunch of other changes which would divert enough from the anime to make it interesting. If this is something you’d be interested in reading, or if the idea seems lame, feel free to take the poll! I’d like to hear your opinions, as this’ll help guide my projects as I get closer to finishing this one.
Update: Chapter 11 can be found here!
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