#I stared in awe for days before remembering I should actually reply HAH | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

alicemitch09writes · 3 years

Text

lame

10.

you’re both so lame

Bakugou Katsuki was roughly 16 when he realized the stakes to be the best, the top, the number one hero. It was more than having a strong quirk, physical strength, keen observational skills, smarts, or being brave – it was all these things he realized that he lacked something more. He realized that you had to have heart, compassion, something he sorely lacked.

After all, what good is a hero working for himself and not for others?

Failing his Provisional License Exam made him realize that, putting up with shitty Half-and-Half.

He could be the hero he wanted to be, but that'd put him in leagues of Endeavor, and there was no way he wanted to wind up as shitty as that old fart.

He was lacking, but he just didn't know where. No, he knew where he lacked but just didn't know how to consider them.

He wanted to be more, bigger - become a better version of himself.

Considering his shitty self, however, that seemed like a laughable and farfetched idea.

“Are you stupid or something?”

He looked up at the figure who stopped in front of him under the pouring rain, meeting your gaze - surprised, annoyed, angry, and worried, all at once. Too lost in his thoughts, he hadn’t realized that it had rained and that he was soaking.

Grabbing his hand, you forced him to his feet. “Come on, get under here.” Once under the umbrella, you practically shove it in his hand, letting him hold because he was taller. Slipping your bag in front of you, you rummaged through your things for a handkerchief. Once finding it, you wiped his wet face, grumbling under your breath. “Seriously, if you want to be number one, we can’t have you getting sick on me.”

At the sound of your voice, your mothering, he slowly came to. “Sorry,” was the most intelligent thing he could think of saying to you. Going back on your words, he found his voice again. "you remembered."

Rolling your eyes, you poked between his brows. "How could I not? It was all you could talk about." Shaking your head, now that his face was dry, you began to walk, he followed. “So, where’re ya headed?”

“Home.”

“Really? School break?”

It still surprises him at how easy it is to speak to you now, even after everything. And he means everything. It amazes him how natural it was to talk to you, how at ease he feels.

“Something like that.”

Humming, the two of you make your way through the wet road, waiting by the crosswalk as cars pass by, the light overhead blaring red. “Well, you’re lucky I’m heading home. I’ll just drop you off first, okay?”

Once the light blinks green, the two of you began to walk with the crowd.

Shrugging, he adjusts his hold on the umbrella, slipping his free hand into his pocket. “Yeah, alright.”

You said nothing else, and walked on, the falling rain filling in the noise.

In turn, Bakugou had little else to say with his mind riddled with his thoughts filled with insecurities and fears regarding the path he wants for himself.

At 16, he realized now how quirks were nothing more than an added bonus, they could either make or break you, depending on its usage. Like you said in middle school, there’ll always be other quirks better than yours, and nobody would give a damn about how you well you did in junior high when you get to the real world. UA was such an eye-opener. That, and you and Deku.

Now, as he turned to you, watching you hum a tune under your breath as you skipped happily on the wet ground, carmine eyes softened as he realized just how much he wanted to be someone’s hero.

“For what it’s worth…I’m working my way to the top.”

Blinking, you turned to face him, the corners of your lips lifting. “Yeah?”

Nodding, he regarded you in kind regards, feeling the darkness seep away just by the curve of your lips, the warmth in your eyes. “Had a few speed bumps to get through, first.”

“And how’s that working out for you?”

Exhaling, sharply, he tilts a bit, careful to not bring the umbrella with him lest he gets you wet. “…exhausting, but no way am I fucking giving in that easy.”

“Glad to hear that then.”

At 16, he remembered that one thing he wished for the moment he got his quirk, the one person who mattered the most to him, the other person who helped propel him to the top, he finally remembered what he had to do.

Finally smiling, the best he could do anyway, you rolled your eyes at him, playfully punching his chest. “There’s the fucker, I know.”

Being friends with someone like Midoriya Izuku is both a blessing and a curse – one, you have this sweet cinnamon roll, whose life goal was to be the best hero at his own pace whilst ensuring that people are safe and sound; then, there’s the fact that he’s disturbingly perceptive and dangerously analytical. For short, he can read you like a book.

Since you were younger, Izuku knew of your crush on Bakugou.

He was actually rooting for both of you to end up together, which was only solidified during the ‘proposal’. Dear God, that was so long ago!

Even when the blond boy turned out to be a shithead, lording over with his overgrown pride, Izuku was there to assure you that your crush is valid and that there's almost something good underneath Kacchan's pride.

One Valentine’s day, sophomore year of middle school to be exact, with some push from your green-haired best friend, you were planning on giving Bakugou Katsuki Valentine’s chocolates. The idea intimidated you to no end, but it was a step. Your mother had helped you make them, all while teasing you throughout the process. Your dad had cried the whole time, whilst your grandparents drank tea to the tune of his wails.

You had given some pieces to Izuku, who enjoyed them much to your relief. So now, the only problem was actually giving them to the blond boy.

“B-Bakugou-kun!” a girly voiced called out, startled, you hid, back against the wall. “I-I made you chocolates! T-These are for you!”

It didn't help that you were not the only one who harbored a crush on him, in fact, half the population liked him, you had a lot of competition. Izuku would say that you had a leg against the rest, just because you were childhood friends. (To which you'd roll your eyes on because it was so fucking cliche)

"HAH?"

"Um, um...I was hoping to give them to you! A-Also, I-I...like you! Please go out with me-"

"Like I'd go out with an extra like you," he cuts her off harshly, sadistically. "none of you are fit for someone like me." There was a whimper, followed by a dark chuckle. "And you have the gall to actually hand me these? You must be outta your mind. Double, if you think I'd ever want to be found dating an extra like you."

Though they weren't directed at you, every word said sent a painful jab to your heart, loosening the grip on your chocolates.

You should have known better that Bakugou wasn’t one for Valentine's Day, he’d either snub the gifts, burst them to bits, or pass them to his ‘friends’. Today was no different. Braving a look, you saw as he harshly took the chocolate off the girl's hands and blew them to bits, his 'friends' laughing behind him while the girl stared in horror before running off crying.

Had that been you, it could've been worst.

Bakugou Katsuki could care less about feelings or liking someone, he cared for nothing but himself.

So, instead, you gave them to Izuku, meaning he got two chocolates for Valentine’s Day.

"EH!? (Nickname), what happened!?" seeing the look in your eyes, Izuku was by your side.

“Sorry, Izuku, I couldn’t do it.” you murmur, defeatedly.

“Couldn’t or wouldn’t?”

You could only exhale, limply leaning against him. Still worried, he wraps an around your shoulders, squeezing comfortably. Seeing the chocolate in your best friend's hands, you felt the burn in your eyes, the squeeze in your chest, remembering all that time you spent working on it only to go to waste. In a way, it was metaphorically like dealing with your feelings, this stupid one-sided crush.

“Honestly? I’m tired of this stupid crush.”

Numbness washed over you, crawling over your nerves.

Seeing the weariness in your eyes, Izuku relents his words and works on a smile. “I-I’ll give you double for White Day!”

Smiling weakly, you replied. “Thanks, Izuku, I look forward to it.”

(Unbeknownst to the both of you, a blond teen listened in, hands balled into fists, sparks going off, before stomping away angrily.)

“Um, Aizawa-sensei, is there a reason why we’re doing night classes?”

Lazily glancing at Jirou, seeing her in gear like the rest of her classmates, who seemed tired and confused for being in the gym at 09:06 in the evening.

“Since you’ll be heroes soon, you have to keep in mind that you work around the clock. Meaning, there’s a chance that you’re more likely to work day shifts or night shifts.” His students shifted, reacting to his words.

“Well, that’s true.” Satou nods, arms crossed against his massive chest.

“Well, I work better at night, since I love to sleep in~” Kaminari says, grinning ear to ear.

“Tokoyami-chan, wouldn't you be better suited for the night?” Asui asked Tokoyami, who nodded once.

“Yes, as Dark Shadow and I have been making progress.”

“That being said, we’re only doing these night classes at random, to properly prepare yourselves. With that in mind, I’ve called for help with these classes.”

The class gasped in unison, half were excited, half were in awe. After all, it’s not every day you get outside help. Who knows who they'll meet?

As if being summoned, two figures appeared from the shadows, both sporting ninja-like costumes and donning masks - a sly kitsune on the small female, and a stoic angry-looking fox on the tall male. Together, the two bowed - holding their fists in their palms - at Aizawa, then at the class.

Standing straight, they began to take off their masks, lowering their hoods.

Midoriya and Bakugou gasped, immediately recognizing the two whose eyes glinting a dangerous yellow.

“They are from the Yoruichi dojo, they’re trained and proficient in combat, especially at night. We'll be under their care.”

“E-EH?”

"Hold up!"

“Isn’t that Midoriya and Bakugou’s childhood friend?”

You waved a two-fingered salute, rather nonchalantly. “Yo!”

“(Nickname)!” Izuku called to you, excitedly, his shock wearing off.

“What are you doing here?” Bakugou shouted, still in shock.

Tutting you folded your arms against your chest, fixing a dull look towards your childhood friends. “Weren’t you listening? Or were your explosions too loud that you’ve gone deaf?” those words were specifically directed towards Bakugou, who yelled incoherent words at you. Turning your head away, avoiding his yells, you stuck your tongue out childishly.

Beside you, your grandfather stoically took in the group before him, before his eyes fell on green and blond. “So, this is the two of you donning your heroics? Not too shabby.” Says your grandfather, the two boys stood straighter, much to the shock of their classmates, especially for Bakugou.

“Shihan!” Bakugou and Midoriya say in unison.

“Ah, the two of them straightened up!”

“Even Bakugou!”

“Just who is this old man?”

"He's the head of the Yuroichi clan," Aizawa said, hands still in his pocket. "a retired underground hero who's trained countless heroes, mastered the art of stealth and even earned the respect of several Yakuza clans for his many feats. He is simply called Shihan." Scratching at his cheek, he added. "Even I trained under him."

"That's an impressive track record," remarked Yaoyorozu, Todoroki nods beside her. "Countless heroes have been under his wing, he must be that impressive."

"Y-Yakuza clans!?" shrieked Urakaka.

"An experienced underground hero to help us further enhance our skills, as expected of UA!" Iida praised, hands moving animatedly, his classmates were careful not to get hit by them.

"He even trained Aizawa-sensei, that's so cool!" Kirishima comments, fists bumping producing a satisfying 'clack' sound.

“But, 'Shihan'? Isn’t that just a title?” Mashirao asked, confused. Beside him, Mezuo shrugged.

“Well, you get to know his name only if you’ve rightfully earned it.” You tell them, dangling against the banister, legs swinging.

...

“What the hell?”

“When did she get there!?”

Giggling, you drop to the ground soundlessly, landing next to Izuku to hug his arm. Shooting the blond a look, you playfully kicked his boots.

"(N-Nickname)!"

“Granddaughter,” called your old man, arms folded behind his back. “get over here.”

“Yes~” taking a step back from your friends, you flipped backward to your grandfather, landing easily into a seating pose, yellow eyes alight with mischief.

“W-Wait, sensei, you said that we’d have to train against them right?”

“Correct. The Yuroichi clan is the best martial artist you’ll find, but you won’t hear squat of them in the real world because of how good they keep their façade.” At that, you winked at your (still) gaping best friends. “That being said, within this class, you’ll see exactly how you’ll fare in the real world especially at night.”

Impassively staring out, your grandfather continued to stare down at the students of Class 2-A, his yellow eyes gleaning on each one of them whilst you rocked in place beside him.

“You may have had your work studies, internship, and last year's fiasco cut out for you, but that's still a fraction of what's to be expected of you as heroes." Some of the group fell silent at the mention of their freshmen year, a lot of things happened to them that forced them all to grow up too fast.

"Yuroichi,” Aizawa turns to you - cutting everyone's thought process, bringing them to now, you blink. “you can start out by picking the person you’d like to go against.”

Humming, you gave the class a good look, yellow eyes dancing from person to person. Izuku's detailed analysis flowed in your head, regarding each of his classmates.

Eventually, you chose Ochako, because you had been told that she’s one of the best combatants in class. Also, she had a rather interesting quirk you'd like to see with up close.

"I won't go easy on you, (Name)-chan!" the brunette says to you, fists clenched against her chest.

Nodding, the two of you walk forward to the mat, Class 2-A stood in line to watch from the side.

“Good luck, Ochako-chan! Gero~”

"Ochako-chan, let's go!!!"

“Go kick some butt, Uraraka!”

“This’ll be good! Some girl on girl action!” someone said, which was met with an angry bark and explosion soon after.

“Take your position,” says Aizawa. “everyone, keep your eyes on the two.” Lifting his hands in the air, readying. “Begin.”

Just as his hands slapped against each other, the slap resounding throughout the gym, you had Ochako pinned down to the ground, both her palms open and outstretched away from each other.

“What!?”

“What the hell?”

“She’s too fast!”

From his spot, your grandfather scoffed angrily, unimpressed. "Granddaughter, don't show off."

Smiling cheekily, you released the brunette and walked back to your position. "Yes, yes. Sorry~" came your breezy reply, to which he rolled his eyes at. Turning to Ochako, you offered a peace sign in apology. Rolling her shoulders, her eyes remained wide in confusion at how fast it all went down.

Aizawa, unfazed by how fast things were going, stood idle. "Alright, we'll try again. This time, play fair." He says to you, mostly. Eyes flashing red in warning, causing chills to run down your spine, your expression sours a bit.

This time though, as you both circled the training mat and settled into positions, you took a deep inhale, eyes closing. As you exhaled, your eyes slowly peeled open and revealed (e/c), much to the confusion of many - save for your grandfather, Aizawa, and your best friends.

"Begin."

Ochako struck first, coming at you with her hands open to take you down, but you managed to dodge easily in time, rolling on her back to land on your feet. Striking for her head, she easily deflected your attack and grabbed your arm. Anticipating this, you twisted your whole body, causing her to lose balance and trip.

"Uwa!"

"That was so cool!"

"GO KICK HER ASS, URARAKA!"

While the class cheered, as the fight went on, two boys were especially keyed on the fight between the two females, taking note of your eyes.

Surging towards you, trying to get at you again, you stood your ground and waited. When she was within reach, you easily slipped your arm in hers and twirled around, as though you were doing the rodeo, and tossed her. Disoriented, she quickly got back to her wits, throwing punches your way, which you parried off quickly. And with your attacks, she easily dispatched your chances.

It was a rather even match.

"Wow, they're amazing..." commented Sato under his breath.

"I keep forgetting how good Uraraka is in terms of close combat." Sero seconds, just as Ochako aptly deflects your kicks.

"Yeah, but have you seen Yuroichi?" Throughout the fight, you ensured to knock away Ochako's hands - removing all chances of her using her quirk, cutting all her openings, and slipping through her defenses. "Damn, since's good."

Ochako grabbed hold of your arm, and you let her. Feeling weightless a playful smile plasters on your lips, much to her confusion, before you grabbed at her arms, throwing yourself back and using gravity to your advantage, maneuvering with her weight until you kicked her by the backs of her knees. Once again, the brunette found herself pinned to the ground. "And, dead."

"Alright, Yoruichi wins."

A series of cheers echoed behind you.

Grinning, you got off Ochako - who immediately released her quirk, and helped her up. "Thanks for the fight, Ochako~"

Despite being bruised all over, she mirrors your grin. "My pleasure, (Name)-chan! You're so cool!"

"Not as cool as you were!" you swayed a little, finding your footing. "Man, your quirk is no joke."

"Now, can anyone tell me what happened?" Aizawa turned to the class expectantly.

For a moment, there was silence, before Sero spoke up.

"Um, Yuroichi moved too fast?"

"And?"

"She...well, she shifted her fighting style time to time." Mashirao added, his tail noticeable shaking excitedly.

"Oh yeah! That!" Kirishima blinked, like he had a light bulb moment, hammering a fist into his open palm. "It's like one of those characters in those fighting games!" Ashido, Sero, and Kaminari nodding in agreement.

"And because of Uraraka's fighting style, she had to be the antithesis of her to catch her off-guard." Todoroki supplemented.

Aizawa nodded - save for Kirishima's comment, at every comment. "Anything else to add?"

"She was studying Uraraka," muttered Katsuki, arms crossed against his chest. "from the moment she chose her to the moment she stepped in the mat."

"Also, with her quirk allowed her to predict exactly how she'll attack." Izuku seconds in, remembering your eyes flashing quickly from (e/c) to yellow. "However, she only used it when it suited her."

Narrowing your eyes at your childhood friends, you called out. "Hey, that's cheating! The two of you know too much!"

"No, that's true." Aizawa pointedly ignores your complaints, nodding at the two.

Grumbling under your breath, Ochako could only give you a laugh before handing you a towel. Nodding in thanks, you dropped to the ground, sitting.

"Alright, so now, you've just paid witness to what you're up against. Next, we're going to test the rest of you. Shihan," Aizawa turned to your grandfather "I believe you've made a decision?"

Your grandfather grunted. "Yes." he nods, turning to the shorter man, shoulders relaxing. "Standard Rabbit Hole exercise."

Pursuing your lips at your grandfather's words, eyes widening slightly, you hummed afterward. "Heh, okay~"

"What does that mean?" a confused Asui asked, poking at her cheek. "Gero?"

"I believe it's an exercise where a whole group is to capture one chosen person. It's a common stealth exercise that the military uses." Yaoyoruzu explained kindly.

"You heard him, your objective is to capture Yuroichi."

Half the class blinked in disbelief, eyes wide like saucers.

"Wait, all of us?"

"All of you." Shihan confirmed with a small smirk, one that sent chills down the students' spines. Aizawa mirrors his mentor's smirk, albeit it was a smaller and softer-looking one.

"The person to catch her gets a free lunch stub for a week."

Mirroring your grandfather's smirk, you hopped to your feet. "Well, this'll be fun."

When you were younger and when your quirk first started to appear, it was rather unpleasant. Because first of all, you had your first period. You honestly thought you were going to die then and there had your mom and grandmother not been there to guide you. Second, straight after your period, you were overwhelmed by senses you started feeling - smell, sight, hearing, taste. It was all too much that you puked, nearly passing out on the spot.

It took you a while to get used to it, scared shitless at how much you could feel and sense things, and especially how more alert you these were happening at night.

At the time, Izuku was wildly concerned about how you've been losing sleep. You didn't have the heart to tell him about your quirk just yet, fearful of the power you had and how alienated Izuku would feel.

You were ever grateful to have such an amazing family to walk you through your quirk, the family's secretive history, and being a hero in your own way.

Since you were younger, you had joked that your family might have been descendants to ninjas, something your grandfather had yet to confirm or not. (Judging his dealings with Yakuza, you'd bet it was true)

Training hadn't been easy over the years since you were expected to master a great deal of martial arts. Some years later, you were forced to go through rigorous training to heighten your senses, learning when to turn them on or off. From your grandmother, you had learned to preserve energy and make use of them any time during day time, just remembering its drawback.

Quirks were always an added bonus, something that just made you special than the average man. Yet, quirks don't make you.

You learned that from your two best friends - Izuku, quirkless at birth, but proved that even without a quirk, you could still be a hero; and then Bakugou, though was gifted with an amazing quirk, if you had a shitty attitude, you were basically nothing without it.

Yellow eyes gleamed under the light, a glint of mischief playing through that mirrored the mask in your hand.

At the age of 14, you finally mastered your senses, allowing them to come on its full potential once it was dusk. Per family tradition, you were given a mask - one that helped protect you and leave enemies unaware of you using your quirk.

Now, at 17, you were seeing your quirk - quirks, as a whole - with a new set of eyes.

Donning the mask on, a loud blaring alarm rang out, signifying the start of the exercise.

The fox was ready to play.

20 against 1 should be an intimidating feat, but you, it felt strangely exciting. That, or maybe it was the warrior in you. These kinds of things were exciting in a way. This play of cat and mouse - well, rabbit, the thrill of the chase, stealth, saboteur, ambush - you could feel your blood tingle in glee.

The object was simple: one of the twenty students had to find and capture you. Should be easy, considering they had really strong quirks and experience you sorely lacked.

But as a Yuroichi, you were always taught never to underestimate your enemy and to always make use of your environment as much as you should use your quirk, they always helped to your advantage.

5 minutes in and you were caught in what seemed to be a crossfire of students, all deadset on capturing you - for their grade or that week's worth of free lunch. Frankly, having everyone come at you all at once was adorable, yet, it was rather fool-hardy.

It made them all the more reckless.

Grunting, you felt the echolocation sound back to you, giving you an idea of the area around you and the number of students in the way. Mapping your way, you avoided grabbing hands (appendages, tapes, and acid, oh my), hopping from one's shoulder to one's head, until your foot met the wall. Kicking yourself off, you were sent back, hands grabbing a ledge before using your weight to drop the ladder a few inches.

Hanging upside down, you lazily eyed the two heroes before you who individually kinda reminded you of grapes and banana.

"We got her!"

"That lunch is mine!"

Carefully coursing through the two, whisking through the grape boy’s balls, until you were in front of them, hands moved at lightning speed striking their abdomen, sides, and inner biceps, leaving them paralyzed and down.

"I-I can't move...?" Satou flexed his fingers but to no avail.

"GAH! Bested!" Mineta's balls fall to the ground, no longer sticking and rolling off like a ball.

Sensing someone behind you, you threw yourself forward, ice barely kissing the tips of your sandaled feet, barreling on the ground before crouching.

"Mineta, Satou! Are you okay?"

"How and why are you down?"

"S-She did something to us...!"

Mismatched eyes watched you coolly, you didn't let up, stance readying.

You felt a rush of lighting behind you, followed by iron-clad soles hopping wall to wall. Seeing the mismatched teen's shifted posture, you smirked beneath your mask. Just as hands touched your head, you grabbed hold of his wrist, striking your knuckled index finger on his arms, before tossing him to the mismatched teen, his eyes widening at the incoming body.

"(NAME)!" an explosion sounded off.

As smoke filled the area, you stilled a moment, grunting lowly before turning on your heel and rushing the opposite direction. Hopping off the ground, you leaped building to building, not stopping once even as heroes followed after your trail.

Turning on your heel, eyeing the remaining heroes, you gave a two-fingered salute before falling backward. In midair, you twirled around, dodging an incoming combo move by Ochako and Sero, using the latter's body to cushion your fall, Ochako knocked out next to him.

Suddenly, you found yourself in some open area, with the remaining class surrounding you. Beneath the mask, you were smiling - almost madly, like the fox.

Easing into a stance, you all but raised a hand, flexing your index forward as if to say, 'come at me'.

And then it all came in a blur.

Attacks came left and right, but you were in tune with your senses enough to avoid each hit that came. You moved like water, fluidly, unyielding, splashing coolly on to the other even though the hit wasn't yours.

With your whimsical and unpredictable fighting style, it made it difficult for the class to know how you'd approach each of them, using their confusion to your advantage. Moves quick as lightning struck through through the bodies, but not enough to kill just enough to bruise and leave a mark. Adrenaline spiked through your veins, making you feel alive as your body danced with quick, harried moves. Not a single wasted hit. Carefully dodged attacks. Perfectly executed moves.

You were listening. Listening to everything, commanded only by your drive to fight. It was in the family and your blood was singing with every move. Hearing. Reacting. As your grandfather had said, you had to be one with the creatures and dance the night away.

Despite being unable to use his other arm, Izuku readily deflected your attacks with Black Whip working on trying to catch you off your feet. What he forgot was how much you knew him, how much you had helped him with his Shoot Style, and just how much you had predicted his actions. Letting Black Whip capture you, you allowed yourself to be swung around. Reaching Izuku, you took advantage of the proximity and wrapped your legs around his torso, thumb, and index finger pressed together jabbed at his elbows. For extra measure, you pressed at his inner arms.

Swinging your form back, yellow eyes fell on mint and blond who were fast approaching, hopping off your now paralyzed best friend.

A great leap over, you appeared between the two powerhouses. Grabbing their wrists, you forcefully tugged, switching sides and throwing them off, before kicking down to their ankles up to their torsos. Angered, Katsuki lifted a hand, to blast you away. Apparently, Todoroki thought of the same thing. Thankfully you ducked in time, but not enough time for the boys to realize their actions, and a loud explosion sounded off. The two were incapacitated from the blast meter...and anyone caught near it.

You landed soundlessly in front of them all, a few scratches on your costume but your fox mask still smiling.

Thirty minutes later, twenty students were down, half were paralyzed, unable to move their limbs, and had to be helped up by a fellow classmate, and half had bruises on their bodies. A smirking Shihan greeted them, next to an impassive Aizawa, eyes glinting with a strange glee.

"All twenty of you failed to capture Yuroichi," it was a simple statement, but man did it hurt their ego. First day of sophomore year and already they failed. "I'm not going to mince on you one by one, we can do that tomorrow. For now, tell me where you went wrong."

Grunting, the group looked at each other before it was Jiro who spoke first. "W-We were caught off guard...?"

"Correct."

"Yuroichi was too skilled." Mezo added, holding on to one of his arms.

"That's debatable, as you all should be, too, considering what you've been through in your first year. Anything else?"

Whilst the class were discussing amongst themselves, you walked towards your grandfather, his eyes regarding you with a soft, praising mien. He didn't say it, but the look in his eyes was the highest form of praise you'll get from him. Also, he handed you a bottle of water. Gleefully, you took off your mask, grinning toothily to your old man. Rolling his eyes, he ruffled at your sweaty hair.

"She fought dirty," came Katsuki's loud statement, glaring daggers at your smiling form, a bottle of water halfway through your mouth. You offered a peace sign, chugging at your drink greedily. "she's well-adept in close-ranged combat, especially because she knows all forms of martial arts and used it to her advantage and throw the lot of us off."

Izuku turned to his friend, eyes shining, as though he took his analysis right off his head.

"Furthermore, she used the situation to her advantage." Tokoyami's voice was loud and clear, Dark Shadow - a little worst for wear, nodded beside him.

"Explain."

"She's well acquainted with the night, similar to my quirk, to which she uses her full potential and take us out whilst we are unaware of her capabilities as a fighter."

"A bit of stretch, but more or less right on the money." says your grandfather, nodding at Tokoyami. "Though, a few of you did give her a run for her money."

About to protest, you recalled Todoroki's ice, Katsuki's forwardness, Izuku's many quirks with One for All, and even Hagakure and Uraraka's teamwork, shoulders shrugging as you nodded once.

"It just goes to show that some of you may have underestimated Yoruichi for the mere fact that she has a latent quirk, too bad. Lest you all forget what happened when you all dealt with Togata Mirio last year?"

Your ears perked at that, remembering Izuku talking a mile about this amazing senior of his.

"Just because someone lacks in one aspect, doesn't mean they can't compensate elsewhere. Today's exercise shows that some of you are still leagues away from fully realizing that, and some of you are yet to be a testament of being more than your quirks. You all failed today. But make no mistake, there'll be brighter days to come. Or evening."

Aizawa's roundabout way of comfort did its job, easing the moods of his students. It was easy to find how he's such an amazing father figure to the class and yourself.

"Yuroichi-san, you were so cool!"

"Ne, ne, can you tell us more of your quirk?"

“More importantly, what the hell did you do?”

"You're seriously like that one character in those video games!"

"Can you do other stuff, too?"

Suddenly, the class was on you, questions were thrown left and right - it was making you a bit dizzy. Despite their injuries, they never looked so alive. You take a cautionary step back.

“Yes, please! (Nickname), please tell us!” Izuku asked eyes lit with life, his fingers making writing gestures.

“Yeah, Mineta and Satou were fine moments ago, then they’re not!”

"Hey, don't forget about Aoyama and Kaminari!"

"Tokoyami, too! I thought they'd be toe-to-toe at least."

"Oi, give her some fucking room to breath, stupid extras!" yelled Bakugou, hands sparking in warning.

Finishing your drink, you smiled at your explosive friend in thanks. "Well, my quirk's called 'The Night One', which means that I have the senses and abilities of nocturnal animals." Some nod at that, some try to digest the information. Giggling, you continue. "It basically means that I can see like an owl, hear like a bat, move like a cat, smell like a raccoon, and the like. It's major drawback though is that I get really sleepy in the morning and dehydrated."

"Why dehydrated?"

"Well, nocturnal animals are known to move better because there's no sun and it's easier for water balance to keep the body going. In the morning, all my water reserve's used up and I constantly have to keep myself hydrated to move."

"That makes sense," comments Mezuo, Koda nodding next to him.

Somewhere, Kaminari's and Ashido's head were spinning from the mini-Biology session.

“And as for what I did to some of you lot, it’s called ‘Chi-blocking’,” you explained simply, earning mix reactions – some were intrigued, some were confused, and some seemed perplexed. “In simpler terms, hitting your pressure points." Bringing your hand up, balling them into fists but curling index finger inward exposing the second joint, your thumb then locked in behind it to support the new position. You strike at nothing, just showing how you did what you did. "Which means that by blocking these areas, I’m also blocking out your quirks. After all, my quirk’s not that great, so I’d have to compensate greatly in martial arts.”

“That was a mouthful, foolish girl.”

Rolling your eyes at your grandfather, you flipped back to return to his side.

"She's practically a ninja at this point," nods Mashirao.

"Right, right, right!?" Hagakure says excitedly, jumping up and down.

"Eh, maybe. But again, my quirk's not that impressive."

"Nonsense, your quirk's plenty amazing, (Nickname)!" says your best friend, ever so ready to assure you, eyes bright. "It's perfect for any stealth mission!"

Katsuki nods, shooting you a look. "What Deku said. Don't sell yourself short, (Name)."

Your best friends' words made you smile the most, you duck your head into your scarf-hood to hide a dopey grin. "Dorks."

"Alright, that concludes tonight's lesson. Your classes have been adjusted. Get some rest."

"Ah, geez! Would you look at the time!"

Time check: It was now 02:32 am. To you, that's practically noontime.

“Oh," you say mostly to yourself, catching the attention of your two best friends, who turned to you. "and this might be probably too late to tell you guys now, but I’ve been transferred to UA, specifically in the Heroics Department…specifically in 2-A. Your class.”

Your parents were pro-heroes alright but were good at keeping a low profile and keeping a front. Many of their friends - the Bakugous and Midoriyas, especially, were led to believe that your father worked as an IT specialist while your mother was a customer support supervisor. It was a good alibi, especially considering that they were night shift jobs.

You could understand why your grandfather, parents, and Aizawa-san, chose to remain under the spotlight to save lives. You realize that it was rather half-assed of you to throw away their legacy, despite the fact that they were okay with whatever you wanted to do with your life so long as you were happy.

But you wanted to do more. You wanted to make them proud.

"This was more or less a formal introduction."

Their eyes bulged as your words began to sink in.

"I'll be in your care now~"

“…WHAT!?”

Name: (Name) Yuroichi

Quirk: The Night One | A quirk that grants the user the abilities and skills of every nocturnal creature, heightening their senses, abilities, and more but only at night. Because of its nocturnal nature, the user is rather restless and dehydrated during day time.

Power: 4/5

Speed: 5/5

Technique: 5/5

Intelligence: 4/5

Martial Arts: 10/5

Life at UA was…interesting. Much more interesting than how Izuku put it.

As much as you hated to leave your old school, your club, and your grandfather, you knew that it wouldn’t be fair to just hide away forever. You wanted to make something of yourself, regardless if it meant a shitload of challenges.

Thankfully, you had your best friends to keep you on your toes, making your transition to UA quite smooth.

Oh, and there was also the class, who readily took you in.

You found yourself getting along with Tokoyami, because like you, he worked well at night, and Ojiro, because he was a martial artist like you. Shoji was also an interesting character, as was Todoroki. Koda was someone you adored because he could get all the animals - especially the nocturnal ones you've been so fond of. Mostly, you hung with the boys, never really getting over your boyishness. But, you did enjoy Ochako’s company. And then there was Jirou, whom you shared a similar interest in a certain music genre. Momo made you feel like a cheap peasant, undeserving of her presence and grace. The rest of the girls were too girly for your taste but were nice enough.

Hitoshi - who had been placed in Class 2-B, was someone you'd considered a good friend. After all, you did help train him. He seemed to see you in the same regard. At times, when both of you were free or there'd be joint classes, he'd spar with you.

The struggle though was keeping up, now that you’ve mastered the way to balance out your energy. With enough water intake, you were up and about, allowing you some rest at night. Still, it was difficult to stay awake during classes. Thankfully, your teachers understood and allowed you to sleep in, your classmates – Izuku, mostly – had notes ready for you when you woke up.

After years of public school, you felt rather out of place in a prestigious school such as UA. It had a sort of elitist feel to it, especially since practically everyone was working their way to be a hero. Or a side-kick. Or a something. But, then again, it was just like every high school. You were going to make the most out of it.

“Why’re you still working, anyway? Isn’t your family loaded or something?” Katsuki asked with a frown, fingers wrapped around his drink.

(E/c) eyes narrowed down at the blond.

“What, so I’ll mooch off them like you? Fat chance.”

Summer break finally came, you miraculously survived a semester at UA and were allowed to go home for your short vacation.

But first, you had a shift to cover.

Your two friends decided to tag along since all three of you were going to spend your breaks at Mustafu anyway.

“But didn’t your parents leave you money?” Izuku's bright green eyes turned to you, head tilted slightly.

True. A fat sum of money was left under your name when your parents died, waiting for your perusal.

“Yeah. But I just want to work, yanno?”

Truth was, working was supposed to be a distraction to help you cope with your parents’ death. After all, you had lost your closest confidant - Izuku, busy with One for All, and Bakugou had been a dead fuck at the time, they were all you had. You may have your grandparents, but it was just different when it was your parents who knew you best and all. When they died, a part of you died as well. You were left hollow, numb.

But now, things were...things were great.

"And besides, I donated some cash to my old school, specifically my old club." It kinda hurt to mention your old club, because you really enjoyed your time there and everyone was welcoming and warm (even though some gave you the stink eye because you were your grandfather's granddaughter). "They need it more than I do. I just had to make it Anonymous though."

"I'm sorry you had to leave your old club, (Nickname)."

Waving it off, you replied. "Nah, they'll be fine. Besides, they've always been plenty strong on their own." Humming in though, you shrugged then. "It does suck that it means I won't have to spar much though."

"You spar plenty in UA anyway," Katsuki scoffed, running a hand through his hair. Izuku nods furiously at this.

"You'll give Gunhead a run for this money at this rate!"

Since your transfer you were fast becoming the top (female) combatant in the class - maybe even your whole year! It also included the fact that you've had martial arts awards under your name and a family name as a sort of branding.

"Well, yeah. That, and I don't have to pretend I'm quirkless anymore."

Both your friends reacted to that, mulling at your words. The word 'quirkless' cutting deep for both of them - all three of you, but you're all way past it now considering the path you've all decided to walk on.

"But it is nice to know that I'm free to exercise what I can do to the best of my abilities." You flex out your hands, turn them up, and gazing at your open palm, closing them to a fist.

"That's the spirit, (Nickname)!"

"Just don't let it go to your head."

"What, like you?"

"At least I'm strong."

"Fuck you, I'm plenty strong on my own, too." Turning on your heel, intent on returning to the counter. "Don't forget who beat your ass without having to use their quirk, asshole."

Katsuki sputtered on his drink, its contents flying everything much to your chagrin and joy. You couldn't help snickering.

Izuku could only laugh at you both, hashing out words at each other - words that weren't full of venom of hate, all in good fun, and just full of youthful energy. Somewhere, your manager eyed the two of you worryingly, especially at the language spewing out of your mouths.

The two stayed until the end of your shift, the three of you walking home comfortably under the night sky. Just like old times.

When you participated in your first Sports Festival, it was during a high time when you had mastered using half the energy reserve for the daytime. Coursing through so many obstacles was not an easy feat, especially when it was a hot morning and you were losing water in your system fast. Conserving energy for a nocturnal quirk user was not easy, after all.

Countless water bottles were finished in record time, boosting your system for the remaining games.

It was only during the semi-finals (yes, for some reason you made it that far) that your body finally gave out.

Slowly blinking your eyes open, only for them to snap shut at the bright fluorescent light above you, you groaned weakly. Fabric conditioner, soft pillows, fresh-smelling sheets, - you were at the clinic. The smell was almost too much. There was an aftertaste at the back of your mouth, but couldn't put a name on what it was exactly.

"Did I lose...?" you slurred, body heavy, your mind in a haze.

Trying to recall your fight, a slight frown fixed itself on your face. Everything that happened came out blank, your mind seemingly wanting you to shut down. Then, something soft nudged between your brows, as though to smooth it out. Blinking, you realized that it was someone's thumb. Once the frown eased off, the hand hung there, unsure what to do with it, before tucking strands of wayward hair away from your face.

Slowly, everything came into focus. "Katsuki..."

"That was quite the fight you had there," he comments, voice tight. You hum, things slowly returning to mind.

"He overloaded my senses," you remember, shuddering at the memory. You had been up against a Tech Support student, who was armed with all sorts of knick-knacks. "it was horrible."

"Yeah, it was." He grumbled in response.

The student you were up against armed himself with all sorts of knick-knacks to disarm anyone, and since your quirk gave you finely tuned senses, he thought you were the perfect candidate to test out his latest works. When it happened, small sparks were dangerously coming out of Katsuki's hands. He half-tempted to jump in then and there, but couldn't out of respect for you. Izuku had to hold him back, but even he was frustrated at how one-sided the fight had seemed. The memory of you falling on your knees, senses overstimulated by the Tech student who proudly advertised his knick-knacks to spectating companies, much like Hatsume Mei's a year back, sent him roiling. But then, you had used a tactic he and Izuku never saw you do before, you took off your jacket - to which, Mineta and Kaminari excitedly watched - and wrapped it around your head, leaving you blind. The Tech Support had tried to overstimulate your senses again, but with scaringly fast reflexes, you got to him, beat him to a pulp, and knocked him out for good. "But I'm proud of you for winning that bout."

Turning to your side, you worked on a smile. "Thanks," but did you really win? You did pass out after all. Maybe it ended in a draw? "where's Izuku?" you asked instead, in the end caring very little about your match.

"Probably preparing for his match," he replied, relaxing in his seat. "He's up against Monoma."

Ah, him.

"That would've been interesting to see."

"Like Deku would lose."

"Exactly."

Yawning, you rubbed at your eyes, realizing just how heavy your body feels, how you felt tingly all over.

"How are you feeling?" the concern was thick in his voice.

"Heavy." You reply, nosing your pillow. "Tired. Weak. Irritable? Hungry."

Unable to help himself, he laughs.

At the sound of his laugh, a sleepy smile broke into your face. Reaching out a hand, you took his hand in yours, giving it a small squeeze.

Unsurprisingly, his hand was much larger than yours but ever so gentle and warm to the touch. Much to your surprise, however, his hand was actually softer than it looked - despite having to blow up every goddamn time. Also, it had a sweet scent coming off of it, like burnt sugar. Nitroglycerin sweat.

"'anks for checkin' up on me, for being here..."

As much as he can, Bakugou tried not to implode then and there. His chest though? It was pounding, madly.

So instead, he held your hand tighter.

The next few minutes were filled with a gentle rumble coming from the ongoing fight, both of you were wondering how it went because it's your broccoli boy, some yelling from outside (to which he had half a mind to yell to keep their voices down), their voices softly discussing each other's earlier matches, some pointers, and Bakugou's upcoming fight.

"...Do you know who you're up against?"

"Dunno, don't care."

"Liarrrrrrrrrrrr." you dug your thumb nail into his skin, teasingly.

He barely flinched, face smug. "So what? I'll win either way."

"You are so full of shit, you know that?" Gone was the animosity and venom in those words, enough to crack a grin on the blond's face.

"At least I didn't puke all over the stadium."

"Exaggerating my case makes you look bad, just so you know." With your free hand, you weakly punched him. He caught your hand and tucked it back to your side.

His other hand holding yours the whole time.

Suddenly, there was a knock at the door, the door creaked open to reveal your green-haired best friend, tired-looking yet standing tall. Victorious.

"Hey, 'zuku..." you called out weakly. "Congrats."

The green-haired teen offered a small smile in return. "Hey, (Nickname), how are you feeling?"

"Better now that my boys are here," you chuckle, feeling tiredness creeping. "didja win?"

Nodding, your friend turned to the blond. "Kacchan, it's time for you to prepare."

Bakugou blinked, eyes dropping. Smiling sleepily, you tug your joined hands, carmine meeting (e/c), a happy sigh leaving your lips. "Go win some...Katsuki...'kay?"

Exhaling softly, eyelids falling close with lashes kissing the tops of your cheeks, your hold loosening in his, carmine eyes took in your sleeping frame. He stayed a few minutes, just watching you sleep. Just as he stood, he remembered your joined hands.

Unable to help himself, he raised them to his lips, kissing the back of your hand, your knuckles, and fingers.

The door shut behind him as he walked on, his best friend walking behind him. If Izuku made mention of the fact that both of you held hands, realizing that it had been like that long before he came to fetch his best friend, or that he purposedly walked out when you fell into a slumber, he made no mention of it.

In February, you got word of your grandmother had finally come home. Excitedly, as you were granted a leave, you merrily walked on the snowy streets, practically skipping out of UA.

"Where has she been all this time?" Katsuki asked next to you, hands in his pocket. He was insistent on walking you to the station. Izuku had "other things to do", the little sneaky shit.

"Things." You reply, cryptically.

"Things." He repeated, dumbly.

"Like I'd tell you, dork." you roll your eyes at him, the snow falling all around. "And don't worry, even Izuku has no idea where my granny's been."

Rolling his eyes good-naturedly, his eyes settled on you, his jacket - that he lent you a few days back, because you're so reckless under the snow and 'how could an idiot forget their own fucking jacket?' - dwarfing your frame.

The relationship between the two of you was a hot topic amongst students in UA. Everyone knew that you were childhood friends who had a rift and rocky relationship growing up, but now, everyone saw that something had changed. Mostly, people noted how Bakugou was especially towards you.

There was no name, no label, no nothing yet - Izuku sometimes felt like knocking both your heads together in frustration - it felt rather nice to just be in his presence and bask in this wonderful feeling. And whenever he can, he'd purposedly leave you two when you were lounging, studying, or keep people away from intervening between your supposed moment.

"How long you gonna be out?"

"Hm, two days tops. Granny brought some treats with her and I've been meaning to spar with her." you continue trekking, humming happily under your breath.

"How come I've never seen her?"

"Oh, you have. Both of you. It's just that she likes to be in the background."

He tries to think back to his childhood, trying to remember the times he spent at your place, trying to remember, but the longer he tried to ransack his memory, the more he was left with nothing. And that led him to a snowball pelted to his face.

"OI!" your laugh resounds as his rage fuels up to melt the snow.

"Bet you were trying to nail down, weren't you?"

"I can't help it! I don't remember her!"

Scoffing, you throw another snowball, which he melts easily with his quirk. "It's okay. I mean, what's to remember about you anyway? You were loud, so full of shit, a tiny, whiny, demon. The complete opposite of sweet little Izuku- hey!"

Out of nowhere, snow pelts you in the head. Katsuki smirks at you, happy to get back at you.

"Katsuki, you fucking ass!"

He sneered, bending over to build snowball and throws them. With your quirk, you easily dodge. "Fucking cheat!"

"Don't be a sore loser, Katsuki!"

Squeals and laughter fill the sidewalk, passersby avoiding the mini-snowball war between two teens lest.

"Alright, alright, I jest! Come on!"

Catching his breath, the blond wipes his mouth with the back of his gloves. "You fucking started it."

"Don't act like you didn't have fun, Katsuki."

He liked the way his name came out of your mouth. There was just something about it that made it more special, and really acknowledge that it was his name. It was different when his parents say it.

His name means ‘victory’ and it might as well be one whenever you say his name.

"By the way," you call, cutting him off his reverie. "don't forget to ring your parents time to time, yeah?"

"Where is this coming from?"

You shrug easily adjusting your backpack strap and shaking the snow off your hair, leaving it frazzled. "All this talk about my granny made me think of families, mine, Izuku, yours." Hastily, you run a hand through it.

"My folks are fine."

"True," the train station came to view, snow continuing to fall down the sleepy city "but that doesn't mean you should stop checking up on them."

His nose scrunches, uncomfortable with the topic of coddling. "Do you talk to them?"

"Duh, what do you think?" you gave him a look, almost offended. "I talk to Auntie Inko, too. Not just my grandpa, you know."

The fact that you take the time to talk to Izuku's mom and his parents spoke plenty, seeing how fond the adults were of you. He could imagine just how close the lot of you were, remembering the many dinners you three have had and the holiday visits. Also, there was the fact that you were an orphan.

As much as he hated his old hag nagging at him, his father's needless coddling - he was lucky to have parents like them. You didn't have that anymore.

Grumbling, he complies. "Fucking fine."

Reaching a crosswalk, the two of you stop at red, cars whisking through. Despite being damp from the top up, his quirk helped warm him just a bit. He'd have to hurry back to the dorms lest he catches a cold. The fact that he was with you, however, that made him warm - fuzzy, annoyingly warm that he could feel from his head to his toes. When the light flashed green, the two of you walk.

"You've changed." you say, he turns to find you staring at him in awe, surprise, pride in your eyes. “What are you up to?”

He feels his blood rushing to his cheeks, feels something catch in his throat, feels a flutter in his belly.

“Small things. Little things. Anything for a chance at redemption.”

“…a chance at redemption.” you repeat, testing the words.

He sighed, eyes forward. “For you, Deku, and myself.”

Bakugou Katsuki truly has grown so much since you last saw him. It made you proud, so fucking proud.

Weirded out by your silence, he turns to you, about to berate, only to freeze at the way you were glowing at him, for him.

It was reminiscent of the one he remembered from his childhood. That silly girl with dirt on her hands and fingers, leaves on her (h/c) hair, holding his hand with a flower ring she made for him. It was the one smile he could never forget, treasured, and one he'd never thought to be at the receiving end ever again.

“You’re so lame, you know that?” Sputtering, you didn’t give him a chance to explain himself before tossing him something. “Here,”

Although caught off-guard, he catches it easily. Way too easily.

Asshole.

He didn’t have to ask to know what it was, cheeks warming and reddening.

“Happy Valentine’s Katsuki~” giving him a two-fingered salute, you walked into the train station, smiling silly to yourself.

“O-Oi!”

Looking over your shoulder, (e/c) eyes blinking curiously at him, he could very well see your cheeks were just as red.

“…expect double- no, triple on White Day!”

Snorting, the silly smile returned, only, it was aimed at him. Surprised, but honored.

“Lame ass.”

Izuku was in the common area, furiously checking up new hero updates on his phone, a bag of chocolates shaped like All Might you had given earlier half-finished, a cup of hot cocoa sitting next to it when the front door slammed open.

“Oi, Deku!”

“Ah? Kacchan?”

The blond teen walked towards him, noticeably wet and red in the face.

Once he stood in front of him, he seemed to deflate. Scratching the back of his neck, chin tucked in, his actions very uncharacteristic of the loudmouth he’s used to making the green-haired teen worry.

"Kacchan?"

“…w-what does (Name) like?”

"Eh?"

His eyes caught on something on Kacchan's pocket, chocolates. Not just any chocolates, those were your chocolates!

Unable to help himself, Izuku combusted then and there – finally, his ship was coming to life!

[end]

masterlist

#lame #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou katsuki #bakugou katsuki fic #bakugou katsuki angst #bakugou katsuki angst fic #bnha #bnha x reader #bnha angst #bnha fic #bnha angst fic #mha #mha x reader #mha fic #mha angst #mha angst fic #bakugou x reader

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stevenbasic · 3 years

Photo

“Well good morning,” she smiled, seeing the reaction on my face as I took in her appearance. It was a sweater dress, a really short, tight sweater dress. Her makeup was done dramatically, dark around the eyes, and her hair cascaded over her shoulder in a long, flowing, raven mane. I could feel myself staring at her but was not able to stop myself. I mean, I’d seen her in party dresses, tank tops, bikinis, but was still for some reason helpless to keep from gaping. And despite my obvious, dumbfounded awe, she looked amused, relaxed, casual. Was she actually accustomed to this? Seeing people - let alone her boss - stunned speechless when they looked at her? She was holding my coffee mug out to me, and had cocked an eyebrow waiting for me to react. “Think you can hold this yourself?” she asked, with a maddening mix of mischief and actual concern.

“Oh, uh, yes, haha,” I stammered, remembering myself but still dazzled by the glittering golds and greens in the gemstones of her eyes, glimmering down at me, “o-okay..”

She smiled as I took the mug. Her perfume still lingered in a cloud around us, both relaxing me and keeping me alert, focused on her.

”th-thanks for the coffee,” I said, able now to raise it to my lips, take a sip myself, acutely aware of how close she was watching me.

“And...thanks for reaching your mug?” Melissa asked, both eyebrows up now as she studied my face.

”Hah, uh yeah...right,” I replied, “Thanks. Don’t know how it got up there…”

“Didn’t you put that there yourself last week?” she countered, confidently questioning me, “I watched you do it. We were in here chatting with Vida about her billing, and her cute new shoes.”

“I don’t...I wouldn’t...how could I?” I responded, for sure sounding confused. I was denying it, even to myself, but maybe I did put my mug up on the high shelf? Last Wednesday, was it? How was I able? “I really don’t thINK-”

Yikes. What was that crack in my voice? Why did it just shoot higher?

“Did your...voice just crack?” Melissa asked, eyes widening in interest, “Like a little boy’s?” She bit her lower lip, watching me, hands now crossed in front of herself as she rocked, slowly, on her feet.

“I, uh...yeah, I guess so…” I answered, taking another sip of warm, milky coffee. Must have been something in my throat.

Melissa nodded, thinking to herself before speaking. “You’re like a little vulni-chic man, you know that?” she said, almost to herself but with unmistakable eagerness, biting her lip again, regarding me, “All helpless and weak, needing me to do things for you.” As we’d been standing here, Melissa’s voice had changed, subtly, had grown lower, smokier.

“V-vulni what?” I asked, less shocked than I should be for how she was speaking to me. Did she just call me ‘helpless and weak’??

“‘Vulni-chic’, like vulnerable,” she explained, reaching up to adjust the collar of my sports jacket, “it’s a hashtag these days. For guys that are smaller, beta guys that are, like…”

She bit her lip once again, eyes flashing as they shot into mine. My own heart was racing already, and her gaze quickened it further. What was happening? Why was I feeling like this? And - instead of breaking out of this humiliating conversation - why did I answer her with this:

“...L-l-like meE?” There it was. My voice cracked again.

“Omigod yes…” she groaned, eyes fluttering, “small, beta guys...like you. So hottttt…”

‘Hot?!?’ Jesus what was happening? Something was coming over her. And...what was going on with me? My...my cock was swelling in my pants, and then her perfume suddenly assaulted me anew, like a bomb blast, making my knees shake, chest shudder. Oh Christ, I felt all the blood rushing from my body, my brain, down...

“H-how tall are you, Dr. J?” Melissa asked, suddenly stepping in to me. We were face to face. Or, rather - face-to-tits.

“W-why?” I stuttered, alarmed and awed by how much bigger she was, standing here over me. Honestly. My eyes were just about level with her collarbone, and the shelf of her impressive bosom threatened my chin. Her legs were longer, her hips were wider, her shoulders were stronger. I felt meager and weak, and anxious that we would be seen like this.

“I...I want to hear it…” she breathed, obviously without any similar concerns or misgivings herself. If anything, she only inched closer.

My mouth went dry, my mind blanking as I reflexively stepped back. “W-well...didn’t we measure me, when we were shopping? I’m...5’8”?”

“No way…” she answered, shaking her head, her mane of hair alive on its own, “no way your five-eight...” Her voice trembled in eager exhilaration.

I thought to myself, immediately - she’s right. I remembered just then how I had measured myself on rounds at the hospital last week at 5’7”. I had been doing my best since then to put the fact that I had once been 5’11” - way back when - as far out of my mind as possible.

“We’re going to measure you again….” Melissa announced, and then as if suddenly remembering something, reached into her dress, down her neckline, into her cleavage. She pulled out a...tape measure?

Who keeps a tape measure in their bra??

“Wait Melissa don’t-“ I began, but before I knew it I was taken by the shoulders, firmly, and half-guided/half-pushed towards the wall. Roughly, she kicked a tall trashcan aside and stuck me in its place..

“Stand straight,” she directed me, having already pulled a pencil, also, from between her tits. One hand on my chest, and standing too, too close, she looked down onto the top of my head as she marked it against the wall, onto the matte grey paint. I took the moment to not only stare at her big, firm tits, but breathe in her perfume. It was like a hit, and I knew if I didn’t watch myself I’d be needing it, a junkie. Her own breath came in quick little pants, and I admired the bulge of her breasts, how they rhythmically swelled over her bra, even through the taut, knit fabric of her dress. But soon, immediately, she’d moved me aside and instructed me: “Hold this.” She put the end of the tape measure in my hand, held it against the mark on the wall.

Still without protest I complied, and in the next moment she’d crouched down, giving me a view down her top and-

“Oh god you’re five-five??” she groaned from her knees, reading the tape, “You’re so short.”

“I, uhhh…” That can’t be right, can it? It must be a mistake!! I thought, but then remembered my shoes, adjusting my desk ch-

“When are you going to sign those papers..?!?” Melissa groaned, loudly, suddenly standing up and taking me by the shoulders. She had tossed the tape measure onto a nearby table. I gulped, and looked up at her. She stared hotly into my eyes and searched them, fighting something in herself and watching me, watching me passively waiting for her to-

“What are you two up to?” Randi said, entering the breakroom with Amelia, ��it’s a little early, don’t you think?” She had caught us - close to being within inches, Melissa’s hands on my shoulders, holding me to her - in an obviously intimate pose. What would she think was happening?!

“Missy don’t hurt the poor guy,” the blonde added, checking her nails with a disinterested frown, “we need him to sign our checks…”

===================================

Another big thanks to Beetlebomb for the image and a shout-out to Horuvex for letting my little world tangent into his. All non-canon for "Nexifem", of course :)

#Growing Into the Job

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vydante · 4 years

Text

Restart | 12

Fandom: Marvel

Pairing: Avengers x Male! Reader (romantically: multiple)

A/N: Missed y'all. I don't think I'm officially off of my hiatus, but I somehow managed to pull a chapter out of my ass after months of radio silence. I really did back myself into a corner with the last chapter, but hey, this is my story and I get to pace it however I want.

Sorry if things are worded weirdly, I'm writing them but they're going through one ear and out the other when it comes to comprehending what I actually wrote. No one will remember what happened, but that's okay. God, I really need a beta-reader... Anyways. Love y'all. XOXO.

Also, sorry if any of the formattings seems off. HTML doesn't really translate well over certain sites. (Tumblr, Quotev, Wattpad, and AO3 are now my main places for posting my works. Anywhere else, that's not me nor was it permitted by me.)

If you want a recap: You're in the process of jumpstarting Project Renaissance after realizing that you've just been doing basically nothing ever since you woke up in your old body. You've also taken to making video logs to report down your progress, and in the last chapter (that was in the POV of multiple video logs), it ended on a cliffhanger with Barnes being discovered and moved to a safe house.

This chapter takes place roughly after the last one.

If you're currently binge reading this story, this recap is only because last chapter was updated... Roughly more than 7 months before this chapter. So. Yeah. :D

Oh, and let's pretend that either A. Barnes doesn't have a tracking chip in his arm OR B. he did, but you got it out during the whole rescue-escapade. That's my bad, I straight up forgot about that possibility until I was like, close to 4000 words deep into this chapter. Now we're at roughly 8k+... Hehe. Whoops.

_______

You're not gonna call Barnes, Bucky.

There's a personal touch to the nickname that bothers you. How awful it sounds in your ears, to call the former husk of a man a name he no longer recognizes. There's history to that name, both on writing and in memory, though only in sparsity. Plus, it'll be difficult for you to associate Bucky to Barnes. A man with an identity to a man without.

So after the whole debacle of getting him out of the mini-Hulk playbox and into decent dry clothing, when he asks what his name is, you quietly debated to yourself what to tell him.

"... Your name is James Buchanan Barnes," you'd eventually reply.

He doesn't comment on the resignation in your tone, but you're confident that he certainly noticed it- surely, the ticks of being the Winter Soldier was still there, no matter how disoriented he must be. But whether courtesy was something that he hadn't forgotten whilst his brain was refried over and over like leftover KFC wings or he was simply too exhausted to ask, you didn't care.

Granted, for a man who should have a lot of questions on his mind, he's definitely proven himself to be a man of very few words.

An hour goes by, and in the midst of you trying your best to build a solid standing between the two of you, he's said so few words that you could probably count all of them on both of your hands.

If it weren't for the nods of affirmation, you'd think that his averted gaze from you would have meant that he wasn't paying attention at all, but honestly, you knew better than to judge him for that if he actually wasn't actually listening in the first place.

Hell, he could tear up the walls to the high heavens and you still wouldn't hold him against it, so you were just thankful that he was so docile, for someone who could snap your neck if he felt so inclined.

Though, as it turns out confusion and disorientation wasn't the actual reason why he was being so docile, you belatedly realize as you're stood in front of a blank-faced Barnes. You're in the middle of trying to give him a basic tour around the house when he quietly interrupted your monologuing.

"Mission parameters," you echoed his words, though mainly to yourself. He nods, and for once meets your eyes. There's neither confidence nor surrender in his eyes, and that makes your stomach churn. Chances are, he probably saw nothing wrong with asking such a thing.

"You want me to give you- mission parameters. Like- like your handlers would?" You laughed incredulously, but the humor was replaced with subdued hysterical horror.

You were aware of what they were. Aware of the types of hunts his Handlers- bastards- would sick him out on. Aware of what he did without a second thought. You saw those files, if only briefly. That was more than enough for you to see the type of expectations that came alongside "mission parameters".

He nods as if you were stating the obvious.

God.

You opened and closed your mouth, and for a split second, once you got past the horror of being asked to tell him what to do, a subtle realization crawled up your spine. In the midst of your impromptu introduction and briefing, you never really made a distinction as to what role you were supposed to play in all of this.

So it shouldn't be a surprise for Barnes to assume that you're his new- what? Handler? Caretaker? After all, as far as you can assume, that's probably all he knows; all he was conditioned to grow accustomed to, to expect his every move to be dictated by some outsider with no care to the wants or needs that Barnes has.

(Hell, if you were to make a reach right now, maybe Barnes thinks he doesn't have wants or needs. That he shouldn't.)

(In the background, a part of you simmer in silence.)

With your jaw clenched, you make an effort to make your voice as even as can be when you ask him, "You don't need mission parameters, Barnes. You're your own free man. You can- can make decisions on your own. You don't need me to tell you what you need to do."

Pray as you might, there's something about realizing that you said the wrong thing right after saying said words that make you wonder what you did to anger the higher powers that be to put yourself in the situation you're in right now.

Barnes doesn't say anything, but his eyes says it all. Confusion. Realization. Grief. Detachment. His metal hand clenches, and you're man enough to admit that it made your heart stutter in fear.

"I...", he mutters, "... don't understand."

You swallowed.

This...

This is gonna be tough.

_______

It's difficult to explain what self-autonomy and freedom meant to a man who is only capable of remembering being chained and held on a leash like a rabid dog.

Thankfully, it was your winter break, so you had a manageable excuse for being away from "home" for a few days, but you only had so long to try and establish to Barnes that you're not going to be able to be there with him as often as you are now (and even then, the time frame was too small to even make any sense of attachment).

You knew for sure you couldn't always be there for Barnes, so one thing was certain: he had to meet DAHLIA. And thankfully, since the whole safe house was yours, not even your father knew that DAHLIA, your own A.I., would be uploaded into the houses' built-in hardware.

(While the hardware was built with the intention of housing J.A.R.V.I.S. there as a standard, he ended up "moving out" the moment that the house became yours. Something about "not intruding on a teenager's privacy", but you're more than thankful for Tony's afterthought, even if you did end up taking slight advantage of his consideration.)

And surprisingly enough, Barnes wasn't really bothered by the concept of DAHLIA as much as you had initially expected. Of course, he didn't really talk to her, but it wasn't like he talked much in the first place.

(On a side note, it looks like DAHLIA seems to like the house, all things considered... So there's that.)

(The original DAHLIA was never installed here, instead she ended up "living" in a retirement house of sorts in a wooded area of New York. She never said anything about the house, so it's... Kind of endearing, to see that she actually might prefer this house instead. And mildly insulting, considering you personally decorated the other house.)

You ended up spending nearly the whole night trying to establish even the most basic of guidelines: use the bathroom whenever he needed to (you initially said phrased it as "wanted", but he promptly cut you off saying "The Asset does not have wants," which, rude, but also sad); whatever is in the kitchen is available for him to eat whenever, where ever; basic hygiene; and the most important one- if he had any questions, his first source would be you. And on the off-chance that you're not available, DAHLIA is always online and ready to help.

He gave a tentative nod, but you're somehow not confident that he might have interpreted it wrong. You're hoping he doesn't do anything to prove you right.

"Alright. So. Any questions?"

He stares at you for a beat too long before shaking his head.

He's still giving non-verbal answers for the most part, but it's better than nothing. You internally sighed and motioned him to follow you deeper into the safe house.

Considering that it was already pretty late by the time you managed to beat those guidelines into his head (maybe that should be worded better, but you never claimed to be a lyricist; it is what it is), he might be just as tired as you are from how long the day has been.

(Granted, this dude has been "asleep" for who knows how long, but it's the thought that counts.)

"You know where I'm taking you to?" you asked, not really expecting an answer from him.

"No," he responds from behind you. Color you surprised.

You turned into the hallway and stepped up to an unassuming door. You opened it to reveal an equally unassuming bedroom. Muted colors, modern design; it reeked Pepper's doing, knowing that Tony isn't as decoratively-inclined as she is.

Hah, bet she didn't expect that instead of housing you or your dad, it'll go to a super-solder that wasn't Steve instead.

(Not that Steve would ever have a reason to step foot in here, but in this line of work, you'd be stupid to be 100% sure about something.)

You motioned him to come into the room and tilted your head to the bed.

"This is your bedroom, pretty much where you'll be sleeping. There's a bathroom right over there," you motioned to the door adjacent to the entrance door, "and I'll be in the room right next to yours."

Barnes takes a second to process it all, and with a quick scan of the room with calculating eyes, he nods. You absentmindedly scratched the back of your neck.

"I mean, there's plenty of rooms here so if you don't like this one, just let me know and we'll probably move you to another room-" you rambled, secretly trying to get a move on so you'd finally get some shut-eye.

(What? You're not perfect, sleep is heavily slept on in this day and age. Hah.)

(God, you're definitely going to hell.)

"-and you know how to use a toilet, right?"

The raised eyebrow pointed at you definitely proves that that was a pretty stupid question, but hey, you can't take any chances. You shrugged, a tired smirk threatening to form on your lips.

"Well then. Can I leave it to you to settle down for the night, or...?" you left it open-ended.

He didn't say anything in response, only stared at the bed in front of him. There was a pregnant pause, but he nodded at you. There was a strange tilt to his eyes, but you didn't bother to think further into it as you were just thankful that you could finally rest.

"Well then, good night Barnes. I'll come by tomorrow morning and we'll continue to, er," you thought about it, "work, on your situation."

You made a swift exit out of his room and immediately into "your" room, which was literally right next to his. You immediately discarded your clothes and with a brisk shower and teeth brushing, you promptly dropped straight onto the bed with an audible grunt, wet hair soaking straight into the pillow.

Pulling the plush duvet to cover your body, you reached for your phone to check for any messages you might have gotten.

(3 from Tony; he asked where you were. You told him that you're staying at a safe house and that you needed a small break. It wasn't wrong, but definitely an omission of truth. A few days would be fine, right?)

(2 from Rhodey; it's a picture of a Goodwill's, and there's a silhouette in a nearby window of some guy. "This you?" he asks. "No ❤️," you sent back.)

(63 is from the group chat that the Avengers are in- ah, make that 64 and counting. It's just a bunch of nonsense from what you can gather, but you briefly scrolled through it anyways.)

Turning your phone off, you smushed your face into the pillow and sighed, a terrible knot forming at the pit of your stomach. With an open ear, you tried to hear any noise that could come from Barnes' room, but considering that the walls were reinforced and he was already quiet as it is, all you could hear was the AC running in the background.

"DAHLIA," you huffed, eyes drooping, "keep an eye on him, wake me up if anything happens."

"Got it," her voice echoes from the ceiling speakers.

You quietly tucked yourself in bed. As the exhaustion finally started settling in your body, the last thought that lingered in your head was "Man, I hope nothing bad happens tomorrow," before you drifted right off to dreamless slumber.

_______

The next day was, to say the least, a little disconcerting, but a bigger improvement to be sure.

Right after waking up, you begrudgingly put on some daytime appropriate clothes and stepped out into the hallway. You knocked on the door that was right next to yours, and gingerly opened it when you didn't hear much of a response.

"Good morning," you tentatively greeted. Barnes was sitting at the foot of the bed when you knocked on his door. He mumbled back a greeting and stands up to your eye level.

His clothes are still the same from last night, and judging by the clean state of his bed, he either woke up earlier than you expected or he was sat like that the whole night.

You're not too keen on finding out which was the case, but you had to.

"Sleep well?"

You stepped out of the doorway and motioned him to follow you. Briefly glancing down at your phone to see just a few messages waiting for you, you opted to ignore them for now.

"I slept."

He quietly stated from behind you. He avoided saying if he slept well or not, but at least the damn Terminator slept. You mentally deflated a little; the bar was set so low for him, you're not too sure who it's more insulting to- you or him.

(Of course, it's to him, that shouldn't be a question. Your feelings don't matter.)

"We're gonna have to wing this a little, but uh, here's the general gist of what's gonna happen."

Stepping into the kitchen, you're taken aback to last night as he tentatively stands across from you from the kitchen island. Really, you'd opt to go to the living room, but you both radiate too much nervous energy to really sit.

You opened the refrigerator and sighed when all that greeted you was water and non-perishables. Right. You just got here, it's not like there's gonna be freshly stocked food in here 24/7.

"DAHLIA, order some fresh food and get it delivered today. Charge it on my debit," you mumbled quietly.

DAHLIA doesn't say anything, but the refrigerator lights flicker a familiar green hue that keys you in that she heard you. You raised an impressed eyebrow; what an unnecessary feature for a refrigerator to have. You closed the door and turned around to face Barnes.

"I'm here to serve as, say, a guide for," you gestured to him, "your... rehabilitation, of sorts."

"For now, I can't really offer any... Professional help, on a technical level. I'm not- that's not my area of expertise. I'm an engineer at heart," actually, you really liked other things more than being an engineer, but your fate of becoming the CEO of SI was sealed the moment you decided to live with your dad, "so we're going to have to make a compromise on that."

You shook your head.

"If you were anyone else, I'd point you to a shrink," Barnes gives you a confused stare.

"Therapist," you clarified. He nods.

"But quite frankly," Zemo's face flashes in your memory, "I don't trust anyone to properly... Well, I don't trust anyone when it comes to the mental health of you, and the Avengers too, of course."

Pausing mid-rant, you raised an eyebrow at him.

"You... do know who the Avengers are, right?"

He nods and begins to rattle off a pre-scripted monologue. His eyes are blank as he started speaking.

"A group of top priority, compromised of highly skilled individuals, enhanced or otherwise specified. Threat priority ranges from 5 to 9. As of now, 6 active-duty members and 1 reserve member. The Asset is to not engage under any circumstance and reveal-"

"Alright alright, I get it- that's," you're a little offended that you're considered a "reserve member", but that's not technically wrong, "That's a lot to unpack there, but yeah. You- whew, you definitely know who the- we are."

(You've gotten into the habit of distancing yourself from the Avengers the moment that you had become CEO. You're still working on that, but the word "we" still feels wrong on your tongue.)

There's a little more life that came back to Barnes' eyes after you had snapped him out of it, and it's a bit surreal knowing that Barnes just kinda... runs on autopilot when prompted. The image of Barnes being strapped down in a chair and forced to learn and recite those kinds of things by heart is both horrifying and a little funny.

(Do you think they had a set curriculum he had to learn by?)

"So yeah. The Avengers gotta be careful when lookin' for shrinks, and so do you. There's just too many factors that go into gettin' a personal therapist. So for now," you shrugged, "you're stuck with me."

"What are they?"

"Hm?"

"The factors."

You shrugged.

"Well, for starters, you're- you were, HYDRA's prisoner," the muscle around his jaw visibly clenches when you mentioned HYDRA, but you powered through, "so they'll definitely be interested in getting their fight dog back. They're good at blending in and good at getting their musty little fingers into every nook and cranny. I wouldn't put it past them to have one of their agents go undercover as a therapist for hire. So that's one factor: trying to discern who is and isn't HYDRA."

You raised a finger.

"Then there's the fact that because you're such a... shall we say, top priority, er, asset," that word runs bitter on your tongue, "even if your shrink isn't HYDRA, they'll definitely be targeted by HYDRA if it ever came to light that they have a direct link to you. So there's reason number two: loose ends, and the risks that come with it."

You raised another finger. By now, Barnes has a hard but contemplative curl to his lips.

"And then not to mention how unique your case it. Barnes, you've been a POW for decades. Your brain- no offense buddy, but from what I can tell, it's been fried to hell and back. I don't even have to do any fancy brain scans to know. And that's not even including all the other stuff they probably did to you, only God knows."

You shook your head.

"There's too much at risk for you to get proper therapy right now. But. It's not impossible."

You think back to Shuri, and how she and the other Wakandan scientists were successful in both removing the trigger words and rehabilitating Barnes.

Well, you're not sure about the last part, since you never interacted with the Barnes of your time, but you'd assume that they did help with his subsequent mental health. You wouldn't really put it past them- T'Challa was a nice guy, from your limited interactions with him way into the future, and Shuri was buzzing with ideas and energy. If T'Challa's sympathy for Barnes wasn't enough, then Shuri's crave to help and experiment would supplement the balance plenty. Vice versa, too.

So yeah, future-Barnes' mental health was most likely addressed during his time in Wakanda. And it was almost guaranteed to have been a success.

So you're still gonna hold a torch for the possibility that Barnes' can come out of this as a relatively well-adjusted guy.

Not to mention B.A.R.F. As far as you know, the R&D team assigned to that was still progressing smoothly, but the only downside to that was that it wasn't going to be until a few more years before it's "perfected".

You were never really involved in any way with B.A.R.F. since you were both prepping for SI and finishing college. Your dad was definitely more involved in it than you were, but it's not like you could ask him to pull a few year's worths of experimentation and knowledge out of his ass and exponentially boost the rate of B.A.R.F.'s progress, so.

Helen Cho suddenly sprang to mind, but you quickly threw away that thought. Your- well, Barnes'- issue was neurological, Cho was all about cell regeneration and is a geneticist. So unless somehow the issue crosses over with Cho's line of work, she wasn't a possibility either. There was also Strange, but as far as you've heard the man was pretty... abrasive, even as a wizard. Hard to get a hold of, and very... Hard-headed.

Well, all of that was second hand since it came from Tony, but still. Maybe you could pull Tony in for some clout, but that'll just make him suspicious. God, maybe you shouldn't have kept the whole "I'm actually from the future" spiel a secret, otherwise you wouldn't have to be doing all this crap alone.

Oh well. In for a penny, out for a pound.

You sighed, already feeling the dull thump against your skull starting to form.

"So what now?" Barnes asks. He's less tentative than he was last night, but still soft-spoken when he talks.

"Well, you're stuck with me, bud. I'll do my best to get you prepped for the actual rehabilitation, but honestly, that might take a little longer than you'd expect. So, we'll just- well."

You eyed the outfit he was donning, which was literally your clothes- so it was a few sizes too small for him. He doesn't really seem bothered by it, and if it weren't for the fact that he's sort of proved himself to be neglectful of voicing his own preferences, you'd be a little more inclined to appreciate the view of one very, very beefy super-soldier.

But alas.

Life never really works in your favor, so.

"We'll need to get a few essential things out of the way. Food is already on its way, I assume you aren't allergic to anything?"

He pauses, and there goes that familiar glaze forming over his eyes. You sigh, knowing that he was probably searching through his mental "data-bases" for any allergies, but thankfully it's not long as he blinks back into attention.

"None."

"Yeah, I could'a figured, what with your super-soldier serum."

(You're pretty sure that also makes him immune to cancer, but maybe that's just you glorifying it.)

"So: the food situation is cleared. Now, we need to get you some new clothes because, uh, those don't look very comfortable."

"Comfort does not matter. I am adequately dressed."

You snorted. Maybe it's better that you don't tell Barnes that he's wearing a Sharknado tee and some sweats that have "Eat this!" printed on his behind.

(And maybe it's better that you didn't remember that yes, these are indeed still your clothes.)

"Comfort does matter, my guy. DAHLIA, take some quick measurements."

The kitchen light dims and brightens, shining lime green into the kitchen. It lingers and turns back into that white-blue that sometimes makes your eyes burn when you've been up for too late into the night.

"Seargent Barnes' measurements are now on file. You two want to see the available catalog?"

Right where the kitchen island was, a panel opens up to reveal a hologram of a bunch of articles of clothing, all of which has been adjusted to Barnes' size- or an approximate at least, since there's some that's labeled X or XL.

"Barnes? You got anything you want to do right now or...?"

You gestured to the hologram in front of you.

His face contorts a little, not too noticeable at a quick glance. He doesn't look uncomfortable per se, but judging by the downwards curl of his lips, he's definitely not excited to see the hologram.

You flicked your wrist and it disappeared just as quick as it appeared. Strangely enough, his expression doesn't loosen up as his eyes flicker upwards to yours.

"Hey, that's okay. If it's the hologram, that's no biggie, we'll just move over to the, uh, TV in the next room over. C'mon."

You jerked your head and motioned him to follow you. His face laxes and he walks behind you without a word.

_______

You two ended up getting a lot done all things considered.

Barnes seemed pretty bothered by how many clothing choices there are, but when you asked if he wanted you to just curate a list for him, he easily relented. He was hovering over you the whole time, but you weren't too bothered by it as you were too busy browsing for him.

You went from site to site searching for clothes that screamed "The Winter Soldier", but all that was coming up was clothes in fifty shades of black and with no pizzaz. You did pass by a few Avengers-related merch (especially yours), but he said nothing when you added two or three into your cart, so he probably doesn't care. You did show him a lot of clothes that you thought would fit him, and he nodded to pretty much all of them.

By the time you were done looking for clothes, the doorbell had rung.

("That was quick," you reminisced. DAHLIA was quick to respond.

"It came from a nearby Walmart."

"Huh.")

Barnes' head jerked as his eyes were trained on the entrance door. You patted his arm, and his eyes glance at you.

"Relax, it's just the food. DAHLIA ordered some groceries earlier."

You stood up to go answer the door, and Barnes followed suit. You raised an eyebrow at him, but he doesn't really seem like he's gonna back down anytime soon.

"You know... You can follow behind, but you're gonna have to be in the shadows or something 'cuz, you know... Just- if someone's still at the door, don't let them see you okay?"

He nods, almost mechanically so, and you turned around and walked to the entrance door.

Opening the door, you were greeted with a few big boxes. You raised an eyebrow and glanced out through the door; there are no cars nearby, and DAHLIA whispers in your ear that the clearing's safe- not a single life signature anywhere.

"Barnes, the coast's clear," you called out, already reaching down to grab one of the boxes. You grunt, adjusting your grip before you lifted and turned around.

Barnes, having already popped out of whatever dark corner he was in, is already a few feet behind you.

"Hey, you don't mind helping me bring in those boxes, will you?"

You were already walking past him, but you barely caught the briefest flash of furrowed eyebrows before you saw him walk over to the door. You mentally shrugged, but placed the box in the kitchen and went back over to the door to get the other one.

By the time you were done setting down the box, Barnes had already closed the door and was standing under the arch connecting the kitchen to the main hallway.

You motioned him over, and he complied.

"What is inside?"

You're almost proud that you didn't jump. He doesn't talk much, but when he does it always startles you.

"Groceries, but I don't know what specifically. DAHLIA chose all of it. And by the looks of it, she chose a lot. So. You're gonna help me unpack and we'll probably- well, I'll probably make some food. You can help if you want."

Your back was turned to him, and you started unloading the boxes and their contents. Barnes doesn't move for a hot moment, but he squats down next to you and starts unwrapping the smaller boxes that were inside it.

"You don't mind if I put on some music, right?"

You glanced at him.

"I... don't. Mind," he mumbles, tentatively glancing back at you. You gave him a brief thumbs up and turned your attention back to

"DAHLIA, play something chill. Low volume."

_______

Pretty much, the whole day consisted of unpacking all of the groceries that had been delivered. You ended up pausing, having gotten tired of being awake without food in your stomach, and made some food for the two of you.

You tried conversing with him, trying to get him to at least feel more comfortable, and it... kinda worked. There are a few touchy subjects that he doesn't really seem to like talking about (he doesn't really vocalize his discomfort, but his flinches, no matter how minute they were, spoke louder than words). HYDRA, obviously. Anything revolving the Avengers put him off as well, among other things.

Really, most of the eating consisted of small talk and eating noises, but at least some of the tension in his shoulders had lessened by the time that you two needed to get back to unpacking. Hell, by the time that was done, Barnes' clothes had arrived.

(Oh, the benefits of being insanely rich. Say it with me kids: Thank you, Tony!)

You're usually a little apprehensive about buying clothes online, but color you surprised when not only did all of them fit; Barnes didn't have a single problem with any of them.

"You like 'em?"

You whistled when Barnes came out of his bathroom, now back in your clothes that you had given him originally. He tried all of them on, and you ended up buying him so many clothes that a lot of time had passed by the time he was done. You just sat on his bed, slowly collecting all of the clothes and ripping off the tags, damned if he didn't like one of them; you'll just take it instead.

"They're adequate," he nodded. In his hand were the folded clothes (A camo tee and dark sweatpants), and he set them onto his bed with the other folded clothes.

"Did any of 'em uncomfortable? Too tight, any of the fabric feels wrong...?"

You left the question open-ended as you helped him dump it into a laundry bin. He doesn't respond right away as if he didn't hear you. His eyes flicker over to yours.

"... No. They- I..." the muscle under his eye spasms, "I liked them..."

You grinned, "Glad to hear that, guess we got lucky that none of these was a dud, huh?"

The ghost of a smile that was on his lips appeared briefly, but it was gone just as fast as it had appeared.

Really, that had basically been the peak of the day before things had started to mellow out a little bit. But that was okay, you took whatever it was that Barnes gave, and if it was just the smallest smile you've ever seen on a man, then so be it.

Afterward, the day somehow managed to blend together and pass along like an exhale. Not much happened, since you couldn't really- well, offer anything that could scientifically and medically help him. So you opted to just- try to get him up to date as much as possible.

Honestly, by the time that you had gotten through the first three decades (starting when he was born), it was already pretty late into the night.

(He had a lot of questions, and you really didn't blame him. Hell, most of the more personal information really came from DAHLIA, because as much as you sympathized with the man, you really didn't care to learn about his whole entire biography.

But, at least you answered most of the history related questions. If you had to go through a few history college classes back when you were in college, then you'll be damned if you didn't at least make an effort to learn and internalize them.)

Barnes didn't really show any signs of exhaustion if the casual leg bouncing wasn't enough, but you sure were pooped.

(What? Unlike your dad (and most of the Avengers) you actually had a normal internal clock. For the most part, anyway.)

"Well, as much as I liked talking about prehistoric times," you sounded sarcastic, but you actually did like it, "I gotta sleep, I don't run on super-soldier energy like you do bub."

You stood up, stretched, and saw that Barnes was now standing up as well.

"Should I...?"

Raising an eyebrow, you huffed in good nature, "Go to sleep? Yeah, probably. We're not done with the History101 crash course, and we'll probably be talking about other things tomorrow as well," especially about the fact that you're not gonna be at the safe house often soon, "so we both need the energy for that. So, go clean up and get some Z's, yeah?"

"Oh."

He looked a little lost but followed you back into your shared hallway. Stopping in your doorway, you turned your head to glance at Barnes.

"Good night, Barnes," you nodded, not waiting for a response as you headed into your room. It was quiet and almost inaudible, but you still heard it with your ears before you had closed the door shut.

"... Good night."

You stood in your room, a sudden wave of both exhaustion and dread flooding your body. You shook it off though; it was just the nervous jitters hitting you at an inopportune time.

But really, you trusted your guts almost as much as you trusted Tony.

So as you brushed your teeth and did your business in the bathroom, you tried to quell the anxiety that was building up in your chest.

"DAHLIA, keep an eye on him."

"Gotcha, doll."

You sighed, dropped onto your bed, and hoped that whatever it was that might happen, you'd be prepared for it.

_______

And lo and behold, it didn't even have to be the next morning before shit all hit the fan when DAHLIA wakes you up in the middle of the night (3 A.M., to be specific).

"-oll, wake up! Barnes is having a panic attack!"

It takes half a second to process the fear in DAHLIA's voice. It takes another to process her words.

Fuck.

Scrambling immediately out the bed, you thanked whatever higher being there is that you were sleeping with at least some sweatpants on as you booked it straight to your door and right through Barnes'.

(Maybe you should have joined the football team, because that would have been one wicked tackle. Ha, yeah right, you know nothing about football.)

The lights were on, most likely DAHLIA's doing, and his bedsheets were clearly mussed up. He's nowhere to be seen, so your eyes jump to the joined bathroom door, and lo and behold, there was light bleeding through the cracks.

You quickly approached the door and opened it, throwing away the worry that he might have been absolutely naked.

The good news was that he wasn't nude.

The bad news was that he was hunched over on the ground, right in front of the bathroom counter, and he's gripping his head so tightly you would have thought his skull would have caved in.

Terror shoots down your spine like a lightning bolt, and you immediately rushed to the curled over Barnes, adrenaline rushing through you as a million thoughts ran through your head.

"Barnes!"

He doesn't appear to hear you, groaning and panting as he further curled in on himself. His muscles spasm, hard, and you're at a loss at what to do. He's sickly pale, and the sheen on his skin makes you want to vomit. His panting is shallow, and if you weren't sure if the glint that shone in your eyes was the reflection off of the marble floors or a puddle of saliva coming from Barnes.

You're not sure if touching him right now is a good thing, but you'll be damned if he wasn't your responsibility now. You reach out to him, wrapping one arm around his hunched back and the other trying to pry at his wrists.

(Would you have touched him, if you didn't have the reassurance that DAHLIA has your back?)

(Shut up.)

Maybe you were tensing up for him to go all "Winter Soldier" mode on you, but he's the one that tenses, even more, when you touched him. Thankfully, he doesn't resist your pull as his arm is limp the moment you tried to pull it back, but it doesn't change the fact that he's shaking, badly, and your mind is frozen in limbo.

"DAHLIA, what-"

You're at a loss for words, but DAHLIA, sweet DAHLIA already knows what you were about to ask.

"Sergeant Barnes was displaying elevated levels of anxiety, however, it did not seem to warrant any mentions. I thought-"

She cuts herself off, almost as if she was worried that she had made a wrong call. You swallowed, knowing that despite being a baby A.I., she's never done wrong by you- both in the future and now.

"You thought what?"

You try to rub Barnes' back as if he was a dog that had needed soothing. He groans, but you're not sure if you should interpret that as a hurt groan or a relieved one. You paused and moved your hand away, hovering it just inches away from his back, and his breath hitches.

Your hand dropped onto his back once again, and you could feel the muscles on his muscles spasm a little; his whimpers aren't as loud and painful (though, they're still more than worrying).

So, on the very small bright side, back rubs don't seem to be hurting him either. It's a small win, but a win for sure.

"You- my visuals were clear in the conclusion that you saw it. His discomfort. Your body language and expression acknowledged it but you refrained from addressing it. I- acted under the assumption that it was all under control..."

Something in your mind pauses for a pregnant second before your eyes widened.

"What?"

DAHLIA doesn't even get the chance to reply as Barnes jerks his hands away from yours and pulls at his scalp again. You lurched forward.

"Hey! No!"

You bit back a growl as you grabbed his wrists once again. You yank them back down to his sides as his body jolts, a sob ripping through him. You placed a hand on his chest and tried to boost him back up so he'll have his back against the bathtub that's behind him.

He offers little to no resistance as his back makes contact with the bathtub, but he's slumped into himself. He pulls his knees forward and curls his head into them. For a super-soldier, it's almost cute how hard he's trying to take up as little space as possible if it weren't for the fact that your heart was absolutely breaking at the sight of him.

"Oh, Barnes..."

In shuddered breaths, he mumbles something incoherent.

"...-an't, I- I- I-.... -can't..."

He shakes his head, jolting as if someone had shocked him. You rubbed his arm, glancing down at what you can now confirm to be a puddle of saliva, and then over to the trash can right next to the toilet. You're not too sure if you should get it just in case he decides to vomit, but you're ready to lunge for it the moment Barnes shows any signs of gagging.

"DAHLIA," you spoke at a lower volume, "what- when was he, um, uncomfortable."

"Two nights ago, roughly 22:00, when you told Sargeant Barnes that he was his own free man. Yesterday morning, 08:00, when you asked if he wanted to do anything prior to browsing the available clothing catalog. Right after, he was also discomforted by the catalog, before you offered to buy clothes for him. At-"

"That's- that's enough," you breathlessly muttered. DAHLIA doesn't say anything else, but the air has suddenly become heavier than you remembered.

Your head was almost dizzy with not only how many instances Barnes had been anxious in such a short time, but also at how you remembered each and every instance with startling clarity.

Barnes was anxious at the idea of freedom, but you put it off and opted to just give him a nickel tour of the house.

Barnes was anxious when you asked if he wanted to do anything before looking at clothes, but looked too relieved when you brushed over it.

Barnes was anxious at the idea of shopping for fucking clothes but was okay after you took over for him.

The taste of stomach acid burned your tongue, as yesterday's dinner threaten to rise at the implication of all of this.

"DAHLIA," you mumbled, "the- the rest of those instances- do they..."

You trained your eyes on Barnes.

"Do they all- follow the same... The same- pattern?"

DAHLIA was always in tune with you, even after the time jump.

"... Yes," she lamented.

"God..."

Now, you're not sure who that trash can would be really for; you or Barnes.

"Barnes..."

You murmured quietly. He flinches, and his shaking hasn't gotten any better.

"What- what was it? Was it- was it all too much? God, I'm so sorry, it probably was, wasn't it? I should have- fuck, I should have taken it more slowly, I-"

Barnes shakes his head, stopping you in your rambling. You blinked rapidly.

"Then- was it..." you paused, "... Was it the choices?"

It's almost expected that he doesn't answer you straight away, but he nodded anyway.

"I... It was- it was too much- I couldn't- I don't know- I-"

His breath shuddered with each word as if it hurt him to just even speak right now. You shushed him, ignoring the intrusive thought that it was akin to shushing an animal.

"Hey, hey, it's- it's okay. You'll be okay."

It's not much, what you're saying to him, and it's no surprise that they didn't do much anyway.

Honestly, you didn't know what to say at this point. There didn't even seem to be any phrasing in the known English language that would be able to comfort a man with as much baggage on his shoulders as Barnes, and briefly, just briefly, you wished that you were literally anywhere in the world, but here.

You tried thinking about anything that came from your (albeit limited) interactions with him between the past days that would help ground him, before something jolts you from deep within.

("What are my mission parameters," Barnes asked from behind you.

You paused.

"Mission parameters?")

You didn't even realize that you had said that out loud, but Barnes had tensed up even more before you could even take it back. He held his breath, audibly swallowing.

("You don't need mission parameters, Barnes. You're your own free man. You can- can make decisions on your own. You don't need me to tell you what you need to do.")

("I... Don't understand...")

You spoke on impulse.

"You... You need them, don't you? Mission parameters."

Immediately, you regretted even speaking up just as those words left your mouth.

While every fiber in your being hoped that it wasn't true, there was a small inkling in your head that already knew the answer to your question. It was the only thing that was barely even logical enough to make sense.

His apprehension of making a choice.

How uncomfortable in his own skin he always appeared, despite it even being just a few days.

How relieved he always looks, when the choice was already made for him.

His body tenses underneath your hand, but it's the slight bob of his head that makes your stomach drop. You thought- what a fool you were- you thought he'd be okay without being ordered around, but that was nothing but wishful thinking.

(What was the saying? It's hard to teach an old dog a new trick, was it?)

(Yeah.)

Looking at how only a few days of what you had originally thought was Barnes' newfound freedom turned out to be much more of a nightmare for Barnes, it might just be better for the both of you to push aside your comfortability and start making an honest-to-God investment into Barnes' recovery, even if that means that you had to take a step backward.

A very, very risky step backward.

It was a shot in the dark, but it was the only thing that you could place your bets on for now.

You just hoped that your aim wouldn't fail you now.

"Okay, well... How about this, Barnes, here's your main- your main mission, okay? Become a free man. Hey, no, look at me," you swiveled his head so he could look at you. His eyes were panicked, crazed, and irredeemably sad, but you had to make sure nothing crossed through your face so he'd know that everything will be okay. Your grip on both sides of his face was firm as you pleaded with him.

"Your only 'mission' right now? Breathe," ironically, his breath hitched, "If not for your own sake, then for mine."

You swallowed, heart stuttering as you looked into his glassy eyes.

"Please," you let your desperate prayer lingered in the air.

Maybe it was being given a task to accomplish after days of trying to figure out what to do with his supposed new "freedom", or it was how non-labor intensive and just... simple, his new mission parameter was, but it was almost instantaneous how all of the tension in his body dissipated into thin air.

Witnessing the moment of mercy upon grief through Barnes, no matter how brief or temporary it may be, was almost cathartic.

Almost.

(Perhaps you shouldn't be looking for absolution vicariously. But you were never really a good person, were you?)

_______

A/N: I've read a lot of WinterIron fics. While I have read a lot of interpretations about how Barnes would have reacted when he was freshly freed from HYDRA, this is how I choose to interpret it- one that would best fit the story for now. Next chapter, since I couldn't fit it in this chapter, is a special, but it is very much important and related to the story, and Barnes as a character. If you're familiar with some WinterIron tropes, this won't be too foreign of an idea. Not too sure about other ships/ stories, but. Ah, I'm rambling. Anyways, see you next year lol.

_______

Masterlist

_______

Tagged: @unsolvetheheckoutofit @tonystanktheirondad @ludwigvonbaethoven @rspctot7 (if you’re not @/ fabledxmystery, so sorry for the mistag! LMK if it’s not you) @tolkoskott @klanceiscannon14 @deos-life (grr it won’t let me tag you) @kp1183 (kperla1183) @xyuriko-akamine (akabaneyuriko) @kettnerjanea @soldier-42 @daybreakmistakes @spnfanboy777 @crash-zite @jm-cy

#male reader #avengers x reader #avengers x male reader #Bucky Barnes #bucky barnes x male reader #bucky barnes x reader #restart #reader insert

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solalunar-eclipse · 3 years

Text

Team Dark: A Holiday Special

Chapter One: Omega

Two | Three

Word count: about 5800 words

WARNING: this chapter contains entomophagy (eating insects)

Author's Note: I'm finally back! Sorry to make you all wait so long, but I really wanted to get this project out by December, so...here it is. I hope you all enjoy! (Also, apologies in advance for any bad formatting: Tumblr is being very uncooperative right now.)

...

It was, officially, a ‘lazy day’.

Team Dark was spending time at home, resting after the holiday frenzy of yesterday. Rouge had suddenly realized that they hadn’t decorated yet and that they all still needed to come up with present ideas for Team Sonic, so she and Shadow had spent the entire time in a sort of constant state of panic. Omega tried his best to help them, intermixed with a lot of gloating about his perfect memory and how he’d remembered to get a gift already.

He’d gotten punched halfway across the room for that one.

Now, a certain striped hedgehog was relaxing in his room, reading a book quietly. Until (of course) the peaceful silence was shattered by a loud blaring noise that sent him racing out the door and halfway down the stairs to their common area. Rouge was standing in the middle of the room, and shouted out to him, “Shadow! Come down here, I’m calling a group meeting!” Shadow winced and massaged one of his ears, his quills relaxing from their startled position as he walked over and sat down on the couch. He glowered at Rouge, who stood in front of him with the ‘team meeting airhorn’ still in hand. Despite his stare, she was still poised to blast again if Omega didn’t show up soon. Thankfully for Shadow’s hearing, Omega appeared quickly, albeit with much complaining about being dragged away from his targeting system calibrations. “Alright, Rouge, what’s all this about?” the hedgehog sighed, leaning forward and resting his arms on his knees. She smiled cautiously at the two of them. “Before I say anything, I want you guys to know that this offer is optional. If it’s too much for you, you don’t have to say yes.” Omega spun one of his hands around, making a slight whirring noise. “Please continue.” Rouge sat down on one end of the aforementioned couch, sinking into the cushions with a sigh. “Okay. Let’s see. I haven’t...ever talked to you guys about my family before, have I?” “I do not recall you initiating any such conversation.” Omega answered, at the same time as Shadow replied, “No….?” “Well. Considering everything...I kind of figured it’s about time I told you all my story.” She smiled again, but it was a little bittersweet. Shadow inched closer, caution sparking in his eyes. “Where to start...I mean, I have a mom, two sisters, a stepsister, a stepbrother, and a stepmom. And a dad too, I guess?” “You guess?” Omega asked skeptically, before being shot a fierce ‘no questions‘ look by Shadow. “It’s alright, hon.” Rouge said, putting a hand on the hedgehog’s shoulder. “I guess I should really start at the beginning.” “My dad was a cat and my mom is a bat- obviously, hah. My two officially related sisters are twins, three years younger than me. Right before they were born, though...my dad left. He took all the cash with him when he did. And, well. Left Mom with a barely-paid-for apartment and without a job. “We, uh. Heard later that he ran off with some lady from his job. Mom...didn’t take it too well.” Shadow’s eyes widened and Omega smacked a fist into one hand. “Rouge. Is your father, hypothetically, good at withstanding high-powered attacks from a hypothetical extremely destructive robot?” She snickered. “No, he’s not. But please don’t actually fight him, alright?” His hands crackling with chaos energy, Shadow hissed, “Rouge...I think I like his plan.” He bared his fangs as he spoke, looking furious. Rouge smiled gratefully at the both of them. “Thanks, guys, but he’s really not even worth your time. Let me keep going, okay?” Omega sat back, irritated at the lack of pulverizing Rouge’s father going on, and Shadow, reluctantly, allowed his chaos energy to dissipate. “Yeah, so he left, and that was a whole thing. Mom worked hard for us, but it just...wasn’t enough to make ends meet. I started my career of...relieving people of their fancy objects-” here she winked- “at the age of eleven to help out. Dropped out of school after eighth grade to start full-time thievery once I turned fourteen, and, yeah. I had to leave home, otherwise Mom and the twins would’ve been in real trouble. “I got busted after two whole years by the one and only Guardian Units of Nations- not a bad streak, if I do say so myself. Then, I started working for G.U.N. to pay my dues to society, and...you all know the rest after that. I still kept sending checks back to the family, though.” Shadow and Omega were both looking at her with unreadable expressions at this point. “I’ve stopped doing that now, actually, since Mom’s been with her girlfriend for like a year now. She’s dating this super sweet cardinal who gives her basically everything my dad never did- her name’s Camellia and she has two little kids from her last marriage. She’s been so good for Mom, honestly.

“I know it’s usually supposed to be this whole thing where the stepdaughter hates the stepmom, but that’s not for me. When I got the news, I was just like ‘Oh, so that’s why I’m pan’ - yeah, really- and now I’m cool with it. Plus, I’ve got two new little sibs, so it’s all fine.

“So...yeah. That’s my family.”

Shadow sat there in deep thought for a minute. “Your family sounds nice...I’m just sorry you had to go through all of that.” he said, when he finally spoke up.

“Yeah, they’re great- and it’s okay. I mean, if it wasn’t for all that, I never would’ve found you guys!” she said, looking much brighter now. “Now that you know about them, you wanna see some pictures?”

“Certainly.” Omega said, curious to see these people that Rouge cared for so deeply.

“Okay, so...these are my twin sisters, Midori and Neela.” she said, showing a social media post of two identical coffee-colored cats posing for a selfie. Even their fur markings were exactly the same, as well as the shade of their golden eyes. Despite the fact that they were felines, something about them looked an awful lot like Rouge. The shape of their faces, perhaps?

“And here’s Camellia and Mom.” A picture came up of a beaming, moderately curvy white bat and an equally overjoyed cardinal with their arms around each other in front of a beautiful sunset.

“This is Jade, my stepsister, she’s ten-” Rouge showed an image of a young goldfinch playing soccer, kicking the ball fiercely. “-and that’s Spark, my stepbrother.” A small cardinal with a grin as broad as his mother’s was swinging on a swing at a playground, his eyes bright with the excitement of childhood.

Shadow smiled, looking as though he were a mixture of genuine happiness and a little ever-present pain. “They all look wonderful, Rouge. I’m...honored...that you felt like you could show us this.”

“That wasn’t so bad, honestly- I’ve been wanting to figure out how to do that for a while.” the bat said. “This is going to be the hard part.”

Two pairs of eyes watched her expectantly.

She exhaled. “Every year...my family has this big, three-day Wintersweek party. And when I say big, I mean seven out of my mom’s nine siblings and their spouses and kids. Like, more than twenty guests big.”

Omega interrupted her there. “If your mother has nine siblings, why did none of them bother to help her when she needed them?”

Rouge looked at the floor, a little sad. “Four of them were in debt themselves, two live in crazy places around the world and didn’t really know, and...the other three tried to help. Mom refused to take more than she could pay back. They still helped do other stuff like watch us while Mom was working, though.”

“Understood. You may continue.” Omega replied, shifting into a slightly less confrontational pose.

“So. I always go to this party, except for those two years when I was on the run. This is going to be my third year back. And…

“I really, really, reallyreally want to introduce my family to my two best friends. You know, the ones who live with me and always have my back and mean the world to me.” she said, looking straight at Shadow and Omega. The former blushed a faint green at the praise, while the latter scoffed.

“Of course you wish to do so. Our excellence is unparalleled.”

Rouge smiled hopefully at them. “I know it’s a lot to ask of you guys, but...will you come to the party this year?”

Omega processed this for a minute. “How amenable is your family towards weapons of incredible destructive power being present in their home?”

“Well, see, about that….” Rouge muttered. “...you might have to empty your weapons cartridges before we go.”

“I am unsure if this is an acceptable outcome. I will respect your wishes to an extent, but I refuse to be without weaponry at my disposal.”

The bat thought for a moment. “...you can bring the flamethrower, but only if you put a PIN lock on it.”

“...”

Rouge stared him down. “There’s going to be kids there. Kids.”

“Accepted.” Omega said finally. His tone switched to a more triumphant note as he added, “I shall come and impress all of your relatives with my power.”

Shadow had reservations, too. “Won’t it be weird, having people who aren’t really your family there?”

“Shadow…” she said gently. “...you two are as close to me as my ‘real family’, and I want you to be there.”

Omega noted that Shadow was behaving in a manner that suggested he was ‘flustered’. He folded his arms tightly, lowered his head, and his mouth was pressed tightly into a line- an attempt to hide a smile. “...but won’t I take up too much space? An extra bed is more difficult to manage than an outlet.”

Rouge sighed sharply, becoming frustrated with his hesitance. “Mom has air mattresses up to her ears specifically for this, and she lives in Camellia’s house now, which has like ten bedrooms anyway. And you’re totally not going to be ‘a bother’ or anything, so don’t even say that. Mom basically screamed when she found out I was bringing people, and I mean that in a good way. She didn’t stop asking me questions for half an hour.”

“I…” Shadow said tentatively, close to giving in.

“If they’re ever too much for you, though, just feel free to hide in one of the back rooms. There’s plenty of places where you won’t be disturbed.”

The hedgehog sighed, but he didn’t look upset. “I suppose I can try, for you.”

“Yes!” Rouge shouted, kicking her legs before getting up and bouncing up and down. “Heck yeah! This is gonna be great!”

…

Over the next week, they discussed the party numerous times, and Rouge spent a lot of time sitting in the middle of mountains of wrapping paper, packaging presents for her family. Omega and Shadow had tried to help her, but she’d insisted that they not worry about it. “It’s my family,” she had said, waving them away. “You being there is already more than enough. I’d never ask anything else of you.”

Shadow had still made cupcakes, though. Omega helped with the icing.

On the first day of the event, they set off early, making the several hours’ drive from Central City up to Rouge’s family’s house (north of Empire City) so that they’d arrive just before lunch. Thinking of Shadow, Rouge didn’t want him in particular to get caught up in the early (and supposedly quite intense) greetings that her family usually participated in. Omega resolved to turn his force output down just a little- he didn’t want to accidentally break someone’s hand instead of merely shaking it in introduction.

Of course, this all meant they had to endure a four-hour car ride together, involving lots of fights over what music was playing, several different long-distance driving games, and multiple threats to toss one another out the window while moving at 80 mph or more.

So, generally uneventful for them.

...

When they arrived at the family’s house, the E-series robot decreased his optic zoom to 85% just to take the entire place in. It was truly an enormous building, built from what appeared to be stone but on closer inspection was...actually stone. Unexpected, yet impressive.

Omega was mildly uncertain about the heating capabilities of such a house, but at least it was structurally sound. He would have to decide on its defensibility later.

“Wow.” Shadow muttered, his eyes wide. “I know you said it had ten bedrooms, but...wow.”

“I said I wasn’t messing around with you!” Rouge laughed brightly. “This place is crazy big.”

As soon as they opened the door and the bat stepped inside, the team was greeted by a loud shout of “Rouge!” from various delighted family members.

Her immediate family rushed over first, giving her lots of hugs (while her parents relieved Omega of the numerous presents she’d had him carry). Her stepbrother jumped up and down, asking, “Did you bring a present for me? Do I get one? Do I?”

Rouge smiled at him, picking the little cardinal up and giving him a hug. “Of course you do. There’s one right over there!” she said, pointing towards the giant pile of presents.

Rouge’s mother came rushing back over at that, greeting her daughter with a tight embrace. “Oh!” she exclaimed, noticing Omega and Shadow standing by the door. “Are these your friends, Rouge? Come on, introduce us!”

The younger bat grinned. “Alright, so this is my partner-in-crime and our resident edgy goth, Shadow,” she said, gesturing towards the hedgehog. He responded with a glower at Rouge for the latter remark and a polite “Nice to meet you.” to the family.

“And this is my personal palanquin (just kidding, just kidding) and awesome destroyer of enemies, Omega.”

“Greetings, Rouge’s relatives.” Omega said, turning his volume down to a level that Rouge had termed ‘inside voice’. First impressions and all that.

After making their way through many, many more greetings- which Omega recorded to play back for name storage later- the team were finally seated at one of the large couches in the living room. Rouge, being Rouge, began to chat cheerfully with a couple of her family members, describing her latest escapades with the other two team members as well as her general social life.

Shadow and Omega didn’t speak much at first, but the latter in particular soon began to interrupt her stories to point out multiple inaccuracies (mostly Rouge underplaying how utterly awesome he was). He found that he quite enjoyed talking about their various adventures, in fact.

However, the three quickly discovered that some of Rouge’s relatives had...misunderstood her stories.

One of the many aunts- whose name Omega had not yet stored- spoke up. “Rouge, I know you said you were bringing friends, but you don’t have to be shy with us, sweetie. Shadow here seems like a very thoughtful boyfriend.”

Chaos ensued. Rouge choked on her water and Omega had to pound her on the back to help her breathe again. Meanwhile, Shadow seemed to have reflexively assumed a defensive, curled-up position, yet Omega could still make out a faint glow of green from within the black and red ball.

“No!” the bat shouted, once she’d regained her breath. “No, no, we’re only friends, really!”

Her aunt seemed unconvinced, as did several other guests.

Shadow slowly uncurled, prepared to back Rouge up- though he seemed to have temporarily forgotten how to speak in his shock. His mouth moved silently, and he seemed to be having trouble stringing together a coherent sentence.

“I am not romantically involved with Rouge in any way.” he began slowly. “I assure you, she means the world to me, but in a platonic manner. I am grateful to have a friend like her, but that is all we are to each other.”

Several other relatives decided to weigh in on this.

“He seems like a very polite friend!”

“Rouge, even if you’re not together, you had better hang on to this one.”

“He certainly likes you, and that’s what’s important.”

“It’s alright if you aren’t dating, honey!” Rouge’s mom added. “Healthy platonic relationships are very important.”

The younger bat shook her head, covering her eyes with her hand. “Guys, please.” she groaned, before looking over at Shadow.

The hybrid appeared to be surreptitiously trying to get in touch with his hedgehog heritage and burrow underneath the cushions by this point. Rouge grinned at him and wrapped an arm around his waist, pulling him back out into the open. “Come on, don’t make him embarrassed! It’s only day one, guys!”

Shadow cringed at that. Omega, meanwhile, was most definitely not recording any of this and storing it safely in his blackmail folder. Not at all.

…

A little later on, after everyone had eaten lunch, Omega (being the strongest on the team, despite Shadow’s protests otherwise) hauled their suitcases upstairs with little trouble. Rouge had been too busy talking to come with him, and Shadow looked as though he’d buried himself in a pile of cushions and probably wouldn’t be moved without extreme force, so he’d gone up alone.

Looking around the small room, he...found it quite tolerable, honestly. Sunlight streamed in through two medium-sized windows, and there were several empty floating shelves on the walls for their things, as well as a linen closet. There were only two beds in the room, since Omega just required a…

Ah, there it was. A charging port.

The robot was actually more pleased than he expected with the amount of mock evergreen, poinsettias, and other such ornaments in the room, though. He wasn’t much one for artistic expression himself (preferring to express his thoughts via some choice language and a few well-aimed rockets), but his friends were more...appreciative of such things and would likely enjoy the decoration.

Bored with examining the room already, he put down the suitcases and began to explore the house, trying to figure out what the floor plan looked like. He walked through all of the different rooms, enjoying himself while examining all of the possible defensive vantage points and the most optimal attack areas.

Sure, fighting was his job, but who said he couldn’t enjoy contingency planning? Mapping out attacks on his place of residence and figuring out how to best repel invaders was one of his favorite pastimes (right up there with visiting the mall with his friends).

However, once he had planned out about five different strategies, he realized that an hour had gone by and that it was probably a good idea to go check up on said friends.

After he carefully made his way back downstairs- trying to walk in a way that didn’t shake the house was difficult- he saw Rouge still chatting with some of her cousins and looking very happy. Shadow was barely even visible, curled up in a dark corner and alternating between reading and listening to the conversation. Everyone honestly seemed to be enjoying themselves.

However, there was one jarring thing about this warm, familial scene that Omega noticed.

The little children.

They were everywhere. Climbing their parents like a jungle gym, interrupting conversations left and right, running around underfoot, and generally causing mayhem in their wake. While Omega highly appreciated their impressive ability to cause confusion and chaos, he suspected that most of the other people here did not. Multiple guests looked ready to break something, and the robot was fully aware that Rouge’s family did not share his opinions on wanton destruction.

So, he decided to do something about this.

“SMALL CHILDREN,” he shouted, gaining the attention of the entire household. “I CHALLENGE YOU TO A SNOWBALL FIGHT.” That was an acceptable (and fun) form of violence, if he remembered correctly. Rouge certainly looked interested.

The children began to bounce around in various states of excitement, their energy somehow increasing exponentially at this prospect. “Whose team will you be on, mister?” Rouge’s stepbrother asked bravely.

“MY OWN. NONE OF YOU CAN DEFEAT ME.” Omega declared.

“Yeah, right!” an older child shouted. “Come on, guys, let’s go!”

The entire group rushed outside and began to build a snow fort for the upcoming attack. Most of the children were clearly struggling to organize, as half seemed to comprehend the need for a well-structured creation and half were just piling up snow like maniacs.

Meanwhile, Omega began to carefully form large building blocks out of the snow, building a formidable fortress (snow could be imposing, alright??). Once he was satisfied with his semicircle construction, he noticed that he still had a few minutes to wait before the children finished theirs. He spent this time making snowballs, as well as a few other...adjustments. When the children shouted out “Ready!”, he was more than prepared.

Since they were, again, Rouge’s relatives, he was very, very generous and gave them the first chance to fire. The children launched snowball after snowball, but he ducked behind his fort and only one found its mark. Once they were all out of ammunition and scrambling for more, he felt a smug sense of satisfaction.

It was time.

He loaded his arms full of snowballs…

And proceeded to launch them out of his machine gun ports at the children.

The kids scattered in all directions, shrieking with a mixture of fear and excitement. Omega, during their attack, had thought to make even more projectiles, turning what was supposed to be organized warfare into a one-sided rampage of destruction.

By now, Rouge had appeared on the deck and was currently howling with laughter, tears streaming down her face as she watched Omega launch his onslaught of snow. Shadow was standing at the doorway along with several others, a giant wicked grin spread across his face.

The E-series robot truly wished he could make that second expression right now. He turned to Rouge, watching her cackle…

...and immediately proceeded to fire a massive amount of snow at her as well. Her laughter transformed into a gasp of mock betrayal as she scooped up some of the offending substance, packing it into a weapon of her own. “Oh. It. Is. On.”, she hissed, shaking the snow off her wings.

Taking to the skies, she began a counterattack, distracting Omega with varied sizes of snowballs and forcing him to try and fire directly upwards. The children, realizing that they had a powerful ally in Rouge, began to make new projectiles themselves and threw them at him from all sides, until Omega finally found that he was struggling to handle the attack.

As he began to turn the tide again, he realized suddenly that this was entirely due to Rouge’s absence…

...and of course that was when a shadow fell over him.

Followed by a giant pile of snow.

He flailed in the icy trap as he struggled to regain his bearings. Once he had managed to clamber halfway out of the snow, he saw Rouge hovering above him. Her wings struggled to hold her in the air as she laughed again, and he noticed sulkily that she was holding a sheet.

“Cheater.” he muttered, indignant at having been trapped in such an unflattering manner.

“Cheating?! From the guy who launched snowballs like missiles? Really?” she shouted down to him good-naturedly, shaking her head. “Talk about hypocritical, Omega.”

The E-series robot still insisted on having the last laugh, though- he had to get out somehow, so he powered on all of his fans at full blast to clear away the snow. And if everyone was standing too close to avoid the resulting icy shower, well then that was their problem.

After that, though, everyone had to go inside and dry themselves off. Organics couldn’t handle being wet and cold very well, and Omega didn’t like the idea of his circuitry being shorted out. He felt a great sense of satisfaction at having established his status as the cool one on the very first day, though.

He spent a little more time with the young ones after that, playing several rounds of a popular card game called One with them and stacking up all of the plus-fours. The robot showed no mercy even in games.

Several children, evidently impressed by his prowess (or perhaps just in awe of the fact that he was a giant robot) begged him for promises that he would play more tomorrow, to which he quickly agreed. Not long after, to everyone’s disappointment, the kids’ parents came and practically dragged them to the dinner table, having shouted their names four or five times by this point.

As he walked into the dining room, Omega surveyed the area, focusing for a moment on the glow that the many candles gave off on the table. Fire was always a nice touch.

Looking further, he noticed that the wooden table alone was a formidable piece of furniture, filling the largest room in the house and forcing some chairs to squeeze up against the wall just to make space. And that wasn’t even mentioning the feast laid out on top of it. Omega ignored that for now in favor of sitting down on one side of Rouge after he saw her at the table. Looking over to her other side, he noticed Shadow surveying the food spread out on the table with what most would consider a completely blank look.

Omega, however, had experience with analyzing Shadow’s facial expressions, and noted the slight tension in his face as well as the fact that he was fidgeting with his silverware. Both he and Rouge had a good idea as to why, too- Shadow didn’t need any of this.

The hybrid had been created with incredible physical resilience, able to withstand the most arduous of conditions. This included a significant lack of food. He actually ate only about three times a week, and even then he only consumed small meals. While it was about time for him to eat today, the fact that there would be even more food over the next couple of days seemed to have produced a conundrum for him.

If he ate now, he wouldn’t need to later, which could be quite awkward, particularly when everybody else would. Omega thought through the options and decided that there were three main paths he could take: eat now and not later, not eat now but do so later, or possibly attempt to eat a little on all three days.

Rouge seemed to have realized this as well. Leaning over to Shadow, she whispered, “Whatever you want to do is fine, hon. It’s okay if you eat a lot over these few days- everyone else here will too. If you don’t want to, though, that’s cool- just make sure you have something at some point, alright?”

The robot watched as Shadow relaxed slightly at her understanding words. The change was almost imperceptible, but he now sat back in his chair instead of forward, and he’d stopped adjusting his place setting.

Once everyone was seated and they’d given a quick toast, the family began to dig in. Shadow sat back and waited for everyone else to take some food first- a wise choice. Rouge, on the other hand, entered the rather impressive food frenzy with a voracity that her team members knew all too well- she often complained that one of her few vices (aside from gems and other sparkly objects) was food.

Omega took this time to survey what he could see of the dishes, interested in finding out for himself what a proper Wintersweek meal looked like. He saw two dishes that appeared to be some sort of poultry, as well as bowls of finger food that looked like they were filled with crickets and beetles. Various platters of cooked vegetables in every color of the rainbow covered the table, some with sliced fruit available as well. Loaves of bread in multiple shapes and sizes were scattered throughout the presentation, accented by artfully placed centerpieces.

Quite honestly, it looked impressive.

Rouge had a little bit of everything on her plate, and was currently digging into a buttery baked potato like she hadn’t eaten in weeks. Omega silently put his napkin next to her plate, the (sarcastic) message clear: You need this more than I do.

Shadow, meanwhile, had taken a little fruit, one piece of meat, and two slices of bread, but seemed very hesitant to eat much more than that. He looked to be quite invested in a conversation that several of the adults were having about their own teenage experiences, often leaning in slightly when a funny story came up.

Omega mostly kept an eye on his friends, while also half listening to the children talk about the latest video game that had become popular. It seemed to contain lots of fighting combined with some impressive storytelling, and the robot made a note of the game title for his own use later.

However, as he checked on Rouge again, making sure she hadn’t choked on her food, he noticed that she had left her plate to the side in favor of talking to her family about...wait.

Omega knew this story.

This was a story where he was walking through the halls of an abandoned underground hideout for a highly sophisticated ring of criminals (an assignment for their entire team). In which said diabolical criminals had installed multiple traps designed to keep people out. And these traps. Included magnets. That specifically messed up artificial intelligence.

Omega’s memory had been severely impaired by the event, but Shadow and Rouge told him later that they had discovered him stumbling around the main hub of the base, rambling out loud about things as ridiculous as current weather patterns and- he shuddered internally- kittens. He was eternally grateful for this memory loss, though, as the two had apparently, instead of taking this seriously, dissolved into helpless laughter on the spot.

Of course, they had taken him to Tails to get fixed up. But not until after Rouge had filmed another five minutes or so of him acting absolutely loopy while their laughter, punctuated with the occasional gasp for breath, filled the background.

And she was just getting to the part where they found him now-!

The E-series robot shot out of his chair and clamped a hand over Rouge’s mouth, turning his volume low and hissing “Don’t you dare.” in her ear.

Unfortunately, this only added to everyone else’s interest, as Rouge began to cackle loudly at Omega’s evident embarrassment and her memory of the event. “Tell us! Tell us!” Camellia (Rouge’s stepmother) cried out, clapping her hands and looking for all the world like a child who had just been handed a chocolate bar.

“Help me, Shadow!” Rouge shouted through the steel grip on her face, slurring her words with laughter. The hybrid, happy to take a break from the crowded room and equally happy to shame Omega, pried the robot off of Rouge and somehow managed to drag him out of the room as everyone now leaned in to hear her finish the story.

“So we were really worried, right? Since we hadn’t heard anything? And then we-”

Shadow shut the door on her voice and smirked at Omega, but there was a tinge of real happiness in his expression. “It’s alright, Omega. She doesn’t actually want you to feel bad, you know.”

“That’s what you say.” he scoffed. “Rouge isn’t in there telling them about the time you didn’t eat for a month on a mission and then binge-”

“Alright, alright!” Shadow groaned. “I get it, but let’s let her have fun, alright? This is her family, after all.”

“Fine.” Omega grumbled. “But I will get you back for this.”

“Sure you will.” Shadow raised an eyebrow at him.

This led to a fierce staring match/arm-wrestling battle and subsequent argument over who won, immediately followed by Omega pulling out his phone and the two watching a recently popular obstacle course show. Of course, they both agreed that they could do far better than any of the contestants.

Eventually, though, as the evening wore on, the two joined back up with Rouge to head to their room. Shadow took a hot shower while Rouge changed into her favorite pajamas- they were soft and white with little pink hearts all over (her favorite colors).

She yawned loudly just as the hybrid walked in, already wrapped in a blanket and pulling on some plain black nightwear. He didn’t really need it, but his fifty-year stint in what was essentially a superpowered freezer had left him with a distinct dislike for the cold.

Omega had already plugged into the outlet and begun to charge, but yet…”Why don’t I get a blanket?”

“What the heck d’ you want one for?” Rouge muttered, already exhausted.

“Well, you both have them.” he muttered sulkily, glowering at them from his corner of the room.

The bat opened up the closet in the room, looking up at the top shelf. “Shadow, c’mere. I can’t reach this thing by myself.”

He walked over quickly, not appearing to be tired at all. Omega, as always, knew better, and saw the fatigue from the long day that he tried to hide behind his “Ultimate Lifeform” title.

Rouge jumped onto his shoulders in a practiced movement, snatching a pale purple fluffy blanket from the shelf and flinging it half-heartedly at Omega. “There’s your blanket.” she declared, before jumping straight from Shadow to her bed.

She settled into her usual sleeping position, with her feet hooked over the headboard and her face and pillow about halfway down the bed. It wasn’t a typical behavior for most, but she was a bat, after all. “‘Night, guys.” she murmured, already half asleep.

Shadow carefully lifted his blankets and slid under them, trying to keep them as neat as possible. The hedgehog shifted into a half-curled position, displaying his quills to the world and protecting his vulnerable legs and chest. “Sleep well, Rouge. Goodnight, Omega.” he said softly, still trying to stay awake.

“Good night.” the robot replied.

Omega kept an eye on his teammates, the room lit only by a patch of moonlight from the window. He listened to Rouge’s slight snoring, and watched as Shadow’s eyes slowly closed and his breathing evened out.

The robot was always cautious about shifting into his own form of ‘sleep’, but reminded himself that this was not enemy territory. This was Rouge’s family’s house, and they were all safe.

Still, he watched his friends sleep peacefully for a while longer. Then, he selected low power mode from his menu of choices and allowed his eyes to go dark.

#shadow the hedgehog #rouge the bat #e 123 omega #team dark #team dark: a holiday special #thought i'd give rouge a big family to make up for shadow & omega having none #she still had a rough childhood though...#:(#90% of omega's 'contingency planning' was definitely fantasizing about awesome battle scenes #shadow is moderately sad as always #hope you enjoyed!!#sol's fanfiction

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warlordfelwinter · 3 years

Text

Oracle :: Chapter 15 :: Downtime

(read on ao3)

Delphi has a conversation and then gets a cat

"It's snowing."

Cayde paused and looked back at Delphi, who had stopped walking and was staring up at the sky. He stepped back and stood next to him, looking up at the heavy, snow laden clouds, and the gently falling flakes.

"How 'bout that," he said. "In the mountains in the winter? Never thought I'd see the day."

Delphi lowered his gaze and gave Cayde an unimpressed look. He sighed, tugging his scarf a little tighter around his neck.

"I just didn't realize it was winter already," he said, starting to walk again.

"Really? The cold didn't tip you off?"

"It's always cold at the top of the Tower," Delphi pointed out. "I told you I haven't been out much. I never realized how much the Speaker actually did."

"Hah, welcome to the life, kid," Cayde said. "Always something or someone who needs your attention."

Delphi smiled, glancing sideways at him. "Is that why you dragged me out for dinner? Trying to get away from your own job?"

"Never."

They made their way back to the Tower, stepping into the elevator and heading for the top. A few years had passed since the end of the Red War and the City was still being rebuilt. The Tower was mostly finished, enough for everyone to be having trouble finding their way around and getting used to the new layout. The Vanguard had been particularly busy, coordinating attacks against remaining Cabal.

Delphi, meanwhile, had been kept busy tending to the anxieties of those who had survived the Red War, on top of learning the political duties the Speaker had and trying to keep up with them. Cayde knew he was struggling, trying to adapt to his new position, and that there were things he wasn't telling the Vanguard about the Traveler.

The occasional trip into the City was a small gesture on his part, something to distract Delphi and keep him from being entirely overwhelmed.

They stepped out into the cold at the top of the Tower and Cayde walked with him back to his rooms. They had been built to Delphi's specifications—oddly not facing the Traveler, but rather the mountains in the other direction.

"It's very gentlemanly of you to walk me back to my room after our date, but I assure you I do remember how to get there," Delphi said.

Cayde laughed. "Just making sure, you did drink an awful lot."

"You're starting to sound like Athena," Delphi said, and then halted, staring at his door. Cayde looked at him and then followed his gaze and realized he was actually staring at the small pile of Dawning presents outside his door.

"Ah, didn't realize Guardians had already started," Cayde commented. "Bet I got more cookies than you."

Delphi was quiet for a moment and then inhaled shakily. "I doubt if they're for me." He carefully stepped around the presents to open his door.

"They're outside your door," Cayde pointed out.

"It's their first Dawning without the Speaker," Delphi said quietly. He went inside and left his door open as it usually was, evidently planning on leaving the presents where they were.

Cayde crouched and flipped a tag over, then another, and another. He read them outloud. "Let's see… 'To: The Oracle' 'To: Delphi' 'To: Oracle'. This one says 'To: The Traveler' I have to assume that's a mistake unless there's something you're not telling us."

He gathered the gifts up and went inside when he got no reply from Delphi. He had stopped to listen to Cayde and was now watching him, clearly confused, as he placed the gifts on the table. He walked over and examined the tags, and then said, "Oh," very quietly.

Delphi sat down at the table, staring at the gifts seeming unsure what to do.

"You should open 'em," Cayde said. "Guardians usually make cookies, so they're perishable. Usually. Some Guardians are really bad bakers. I've gotten stuff with Vex milk in it before… although… that might not actually hurt you. Have you ever tried it? I've always kinda wondered what it tasted like."

Delphi didn't reply and Cayde looked more closely at him, realizing he was tearing up.

"All right, no one's allowed to be that sad on the Dawning, what's going on?" Cayde asked, pulling a chair around to sit down next to him.

"I… I didn't realize..." Delphi faltered.

"You kidding? You've been here for everyone since the Cabal attacked. You really think people wouldn't notice?"

"I thought they'd resent me," Delphi mumured. "I have no idea what I'm doing. There's no world in which I'm qualified to take over for the Speaker."

"You gotta stop comparing yourself to him," Cayde said. "What was the point of coming up with a new title and everything if you're just gonna keep calling yourself the Speaker?"

"Oh we all know that's nothing," Delphi said. "I just couldn't stomach people calling me Speaker. Doesn't change what I am." He tipped his head back, trying to use gravity to keep from crying. "I really wish the Traveler had never chosen me."

"You'd be dead," Cayde said, opening one of his presents.

"Not necessarily. Awoken live a long time."

"Yeah, well, you can't time travel, so what's the point in agonizing over it?" Cayde asked. "Here, these don't smell like Vex milk." He held out a cookie.

"You don't have a nose," Delphi said quietly, taking the cookie and nibbling on it.

"Don't rub it in."

Delphi smiled. "I think I'm going to cry now, so I'd prefer if you left for that, but… thanks."

Cayde stood up, patting him on the shoulder. "Happy Dawning, kid."

As he started to leave, Delphi spoke up again.

"Cayde."

Cayde turned.

"It, uh… tastes like carbonated milk and lemon juice," Delphi said. "And it made my tongue numb for like a week."

Cayde stared at him and Delphi shrugged.

"I got curious," he mumbled and Cayde burst into laughter.

"I think you should get a cat."

Delphi looked up at his Ghost. "Why?"

Athena shifted her shell. "I think you need a hobby," she said. "Something to occupy you that isn't listening to every Guardian talk about their concerns. That can't be good for your mental health."

"I have hobbies," Delphi said defensively.

"Name one, little goblin, I'm with you every second of the day."

"I… have… a very extensive tea collection," Delphi said slowly.

"That's a problem not a hobby."

"A cat isn't a hobby either," Delphi said.

"That's fair but there is one that keeps trying to get in your window," Athena said, looking toward the door just as a light tapping noise came from the other room.

"Spooky," he commented.

"Not really, it's been doing that all morning you just haven't been paying attention," Athena said.

Delphi got up, walking into his study and over to the window. He opened it and leaned out, finding a small cat in the hall outside. It was light brown and covered in stripes and looking up at him with large green eyes.

"Hi," he said.

"Mrrp," it replied.

"I'll leave the window open, you can come in if you want. Just don't let anyone else in, it's my day off."

He went back to his tea and his book, settling back down into the nest of cushions by the window. Athena tucked herself into his blanket and it only took a few moments before the cat came over and made itself a bed next to him, purring loudly.

"I guess I have a cat now," Delphi said.

"It'll be good for you," Athena said. "Something to take care of and keep you busy. Since you decided to stop looking for your sister I think you've been a bit lost."

"I never said I wasn't looking for my sister anymore," Delphi replied.

"You didn't have to. If you were, we'd be out there right now, wouldn't we?"

"I haven't given up," Delphi said sharply. He'd been busy, that was all. He had promised the Vanguard he'd stay until they found a new Speaker. But Athena had a point. He'd broken promises before and he knew the Vanguard were all surprised he had stayed this long.

"That's not what I said," Athena murmured. "Deciding to stay isn't the same as giving up."

Delphi sighed, marking his page and setting his book aside. He reached over and petted the cat, who started purring again. "I still haven't decided if I want to stay or not," he admitted. "But… the Tower is starting to feel like home."

His Ghost nuzzled her shell against his cheek and he smiled.

"I'm proud of you, you know," she said. "I know I don't say it much, but you've grown so much since we first met. Whatever you decide, I'll be there."

"I know." Delphi looked down at the cat as it got up and climbed up into his lap, curling up again. "I guess I really do have a cat now."

Athena laughed. "You should name her."

"Hm… Artemis."

#just some nice things before forsaken #edited the last chapter and rewrote this one entirely #there's a cat outside the speaker's room in the tower #it was clipping through the windowsill last time i looked at it #destiny #oc: delphi #fic

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advernia · 4 years

Text

fic: heaven just called, said it wants you back

— y'see, things naturally fall from the sky. for example, rain. hail. dead birds. bird poop. oh, then there was you. - ace of spades & alice the second.

1: alternatively - fenrir godspeed gets a bad case of the shoujo eyes, made possible by cradle's local random substance-making association ╮( ꒪౪꒪)╭

Fenrir's hands are loose fists with tingling fingers, pinching away at the fabric of his pants. Were the Ace of Spades a couple years younger and seated in front of a desk again, Dean would've taken that as a sign of another beloved student forgetting that somehow, there was a hundred-point exam waiting to be finished in five minutes.

Ah, good times.

"So - how am I, doc? Am I still good to go?"

Kyle chuckles, looping the stethoscope around his neck. "What's with the jitter, Ace of Spades? You're in tip-top shape. Heck, if I could smack some of that health onto my worst patient, he'd be outta my hair for a month or two."

"Even an untrained eye can tell that you're energetic as ever, Fenrir," Dean adds, snapping his book shut. "What made you run after Kyle when you heard that he was done doing his rounds here in Central?"

"Yeah, about that..." a scratch of the cheek, a boyish grin. "One of the smugglers I chased down earlier suddenly threw some sparkly liquid to my face. Kinda stung, yeesh."

"Oh. Sounds like a regular morning to me."

Dean does not address that comment. At all. "I see. So you sought out a doctor to check if the liquid had some adverse effect on you as a precaution."

"Right you are, prof - but if Cradle's best doc says I'm fine, then I probably am!" Fenrir beams, rising up from the bench. "Should've known though, just the usual weird bunch making all sorts of stuff with bogus effects!"

"Hm?" Kyle frowns, leaning back on the bench. "So you're saying that the sparkly stuff wasn't just meant for distraction, but it should've had some actual effect on you?"

"I guess? The smuggler did say that it will make you powerless at the face of sheer beauty, hah!"

Doctor and professor exchange glances: the no-trace-of-a-single-expression variety, face-so-perfectly-neutral variety.

Then, turning back to face Fenrir and in deadpan unison:

"What."

"I know, right? Like, what kind of effect is that?!"

Fenrir scours the Central Quarter's streets for at least four more hours, and he doesn't go weak in the knees at all.

Oh no, Central was already loads of pretty to begin with anyway, with its tons of market stall rows and crowds of people and various shops open for business. There's all sorts of energy teeming about from every road and alley be it good or bad, and each day there's always something new just waiting to be discovered - that's the sheer beauty in Central, if Fenrir would say so himself.

But the thing was, everything in Fenrir's perspective still looked as fine like usual: no change on how he saw his favorite spots around town (they're still the best), no change on how he saw all the people he passed by be it the group of young ladies (charming, they're all wearing new makeup) or that old man by the bookstore (pudge and wrinkle galore), no change on how he saw those stuffy Red Army goons in all their whitewashed uniform glory.

But then again, no sparkle in the world could make any Red Army goon's toothy grin look the least bit prettier in Fenrir's book.

So, yeah. In conclusion: local smuggler's liquid that will make you powerless at the face of sheer beauty?

Bogus. Slip-up. Dud. The usual back alley magic shenanigans, nothing to see here, case closed. What would true beauty even look like, and how would that render him powerless, anyway?

Ah, well. Another successful patrol under his belt, Fenrir whistles a tune on his way back to Black Army headquarters, choosing the scenic Central Quarter market route.

He regrets that in five seconds. He cringes, a shiver running down his spine, legs moving faster.

Sheer beauty, my foot.

That one tomato stall could make him walk away, but it didn't mean that it was beautiful, dammit!

Making his way past the Black bridge, a couple more villages, a short hike up a hill, and at last stepping within the familiar grounds of Black Army headquarters; he passes by the old man and his raccoon-skin-wearing-imp for a pet.

Nope, nothing beautiful there, especially with those sharp rows of teeth. The blooming tulips look great though!

He runs into Seth by the hallways, who, for all his claims of being the prettiest guy in the whole barracks; still looked pretty manly to the eyes.

... Okay, so maybe his hair was far from manly - did he seriously brush all those strands every single morning?

Then, at long last, the kitchen: something lingering about in the air had become a siren's call to both Fenrir's nose and stomach, amplified to the extreme when he finally makes it to the source. He just sort of stands there by the doorway for a moment, taking in a strong savory scent.

Hmm, meat in brown sauce, maybe? Or some stew or soup that was heavy on the onions?

Another sharp inhale of Fenrir's catches the attention of one of the backs facing him, of the person standing near the stove.

"Oh - welcome back, Fenrir," Luka nods, a ladle in hand.

"Heya, Mister Head Chef!" a wave back, a couple of sure paces forward. "Sooo, what're you and our assistant chef cook... ing..."

Fenrir feels his breath abruptly catch in his throat, words losing their coherence the same time his feet just stop themselves from taking another step closer.

Eyes open wide like they've never done before, as if determined to capture every detail what was unfolding before him.

Illuminated by bright rays of midday sunlight passing through the windows, hair he had always perceived to be a shade of honey-brown has turned golden, shining with a beautiful luster that gold itself would envy and desire to possess. The vivid color has a dazzle to it that achieves a delightful balanced feast of soothing and fascinating to the eyes, not making one have the urge to turn away or squint due to its sheer brilliance.

Its waist-length entirety had been gathered together, pulled up high, and was held secure by a white ribbon, but every single strand and every lengthy lock of gold followed and swayed; a shimmering veil dancing along in accordance to the movement of their owner - a turn of the head to look back, an action almost so painfully slow as it was simple, and the veil gives way to reveal what it has kept hidden.

Fenrir could literally feel his throat go dry.

Oh boy.

An even skin tone with touches of rose-pink undertones, absent of any prominent blemish from the tip of the forehead to the base of a very bare neck -

A face longer than it was wide, with a soft jawline that tapers from the cheeks to a rounded chin -

Neat eyebrows with delicate arches towards the tail, plump cheeks and pert nose blooming with a gentle flush perhaps due to the heat in the kitchen -

Innocently round eyes complementarily framed by long wispy lashes, holding in irises painted repeatedly with the combined natural hues taken from the clearest summer skies and cleanest waters of the sea: the end result was such an alluring blue, a shade that not even the finest jewel in the world could compare to, a color that could capture passing gazes and never let go; rendering one lost in the wonder of those eyes -

Then finally, full lips with both ends perpetually curved upwards; unpainted yet bearing a delicate peach-like tint, drawn closed but parting themselves open to say just one na -

"Fenrir!" Alice the Second smiles and just like that her face lights up - she's the sun in that very moment and he's hopelessly drawn to her, to those eyes visibly crinkling at the corners, to those eyes that were set solely on him and him alone. "Welcome home!"

Oh, man.

Seth always called her cute, but that one word hardly gave any of her features a single shred of the justice they deserved.

Here in the kitchen, standing not so far away and with the sun generously bathing her in its light, she was beautiful. Lovely. Enchanting. Divine.

Perfect.

A shaking hand pulls up to cover his mouth, fingers press down on cheeks that feel warm to the touch.

Not good. So not good.

She and Luka exchange a glance when he doesn't say anything, when he doesn't as much move from his spot. Then she - she with the blue Mary Janes protecting her dainty feet, she with the pure white socks modestly hugging her shapely legs - takes a step forward.

Towards him.

His heartbeat roars in his ears. Quite loudly, complete with relentless echoing.

Oh no. Oh no, oh n -

"Fenrir?" those pretty, pretty lips spell, with a voice kind and beckoning. He grips his face a little tighter, takes a step back, tries not to look at her lips. Tries. For his efforts, his eyes reward him with quite the pleasant view of her clothed chest - two buttons of her blouse are undone, giving way to a tantalizing view of more unblemished skin and the shape of her very prominent collarbones, and -

She takes another step forward, her lithe figure still occupies his whole line of vision, and he swears something in him is slowly dying.

Aw, shit. Remember rule number three! Rule number three, you're not supposed to -

He bumps into something as he takes another shaking step back and he takes that whatever he bumped into was a person, so he quickly turns on his heels; eyes brimming with a desperation and sorrow of a sinner as he pleaded rather loudly:

"Punch me."

Behind Fenrir, two voices say: "What?"

And standing in front of him, the bulky Seven of Spades, with his understanding heart as big as his brawn; offers Fenrir a toothy grin and not a single question as he replied: "Okay!"

The Jack of Spades and Alice the Second could only stare in horror as the Seven of Spades demonstrated an uppercut right before their very eyes.

2: it's february and i should be writing lighter things, aka a crack prompt revolving around the wonder that are the many odd substances being smuggled in cradle asides from aphrodisiacs 乁( ◔ ౪◔)ㄏ happy valentine's day! (‘∀’●)♡

#ikemen kakumei #ikemen revolution #ikerev fanfic #fenrir godspeed #dean tweedle #kyle ash #luka clemence #ikerev alice

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thebutterflyestate · 4 years

Text

movement 3

"Have you heard? ! Have you heard? ! Sumiyoshi-kun has a samurai for a visitor! How lucky of him, I heard he's hot!"

"Ehhh? Really?? I wish I could go to Kamado-san's House, only if his house weren't at top of the mountain!"

"I bet you could see the samurai, (Name)-chan! Since you deliver fruits to the Kamados! Tell us if he's hot!"

"Huh?" (Name) blinked. She was in a daze. She stared at her family's hired workers, the girl gatherers, while she was focusing on packing the fresh oranges in bundles, "Did you say something?"

"Geez, (Name)-chan! You've become out of it ever since last month! No demon will hurt you anymore, ok? You were saved, after all." The oldest of the three clapped the girl's back. (Name) staggered on her spot and pouted.

"I know, I know... And what were you both saying earlier?" She asked, curiously.

"We were saying that there's a rumor that a samurai is currently residing with the Kamados at the mountain!" The oldest answered. Her name was Chiyo and she was the loudest of them. Next to her was her cousin, Yan, who was more quiet but cheery.

(Name) furrowed her brows, she placed a hand on her cheek and spoke softly," Oh? Really? The Kamados sure are odd, inviting a stranger into their home. Last rumor I heard from them was that Suyako-san fell asleep on the road."

"I can't argue with that." Yana chuckled, "Anyway, (Name)-san, if you're going to deliver to the Kamados today...please scope out for us. See if that samurai is hot..."

"EH? ! No! I'm only going there to deliver the fruits since Suyako-san is having a baby!" (Name) shook her head, her face turning pink. Deep within her, she was thinking that it was Yoriichi who was residing in the Kamados but then again, the said family invites whoever into their home. It was only wishful thinking that she'd see the handsome samurai again.

Her mind started to wander again to Yoriichi, reminding herself of her debt and his perfect face. She could feel herself get excited, her face turning a shade darker at the thought. Yana and Chiyo were staring at her, eyes narrowed curiously. The latter flicked the girl's forehead, resulting her to throw her head back for a second.

"Ow!" (Name) placed a hand over her temple, rubbing where it hurts, "What-what the heck!"

"Were you tinking of something lewd, (Name)-san?" Yana asked, "You looked estatic for a second there."

"I wasn't..."

"You're thinking of the guy who saved you, am I right? Who was that? Uh, Moriichi Suchikuni??" Chiyo arched a brow.

"N-no! It' Tsugikuni Yoriichi-san!" And how-how did you two know! I don't remember telling a story about that!" She exclaimed, embarrassed.

"Your father was ranting about you and that samurai guy that saved you, you know. I think that was a few days ago or so. Hey! Maybe he's the samurai with Sumiyoshi-kun?" Chiyo smirked, hands on her waist while reading the expression on the orchard heiress' face. (Name) looked hopeful but then it her face blanked.

" No, no. It cannot be him..." She replied meekly," It's too much of a coincidence. "

" Coincidence? Hah, that's bullshit! I bet it's him!" She barked. Yana nodded in agreement.

"Maybe if you two are meant to be, you'll meet again, for sure." She said, smiling softly at the girl who pouted and finished up with her packing.

"I don't believe in destiny or fate either..." She said, hosting her new woven basket and filling it up with the fruit deliveries. The two older women helped her wear it, "Anyway, I'll be back!"

"Sure, dear! Come back before dawn, ok! You know that or else your dad might start a riot and a party search again!" Chiyo laughed, Yana retreated back into the house then returned with a necklace. It was a necklace made out of the vines of wisteria, in the middle of it was a small puch filled with wisteria powder.

" Do not forget your charm, (Name)-san. Your mother will go ballistic." Yana said, putting the necklace on the girl's neck. The necklace was made a day after she was attacked by a demon. After that, she was required to wear it everyday to work or if she's going outside even tough it would completely throw off her kimono.

(Name) bowed and smiled at them before leaving through the back door of the orchard. She was immediately greeted by the farmers that live next door to them and she shyly greeted them back as she walked down the stony path. She went into the village prper to deliver the goods then to the markets and then to the houses of their loyal customers.

It took a while since she was carrying such a heavy load but it grew lighter with every delivery she made. Until it was time for her to deliver to the Kamados. She didn't know why she felt nervous, even though she had climbed the moutain to the charcoal family's home a couple of times. Maybe it was because she was hopeful to see that it was Yoriichi who were with them. Yet a part of her was telling her that why should she be happy to see him? For what reason? Because he saved her once? Because she owe him her life? Yoriichi had already told her that she need not to repay her so for what reason was she hopeful for?

"I'm thinking too much..." (Name) sighed to herself as she climbed the mountain. Thankfully, it was not winter so it wasn't as dangerous to go up the mountain. She trekked slowly and carefully, following the markers that the Kamados have left along the path. She saw the top of the Kamados house and she sighed in relief that she was close to finishing her deliveries. And because her frail legs were shaking like crazy already and her calves were stiffiening up.

However, at the last step, her legs gave and she fell back. Her eyes widen.

Someone had aught her by the waist and she looked up to see the silhouette of the person. The sun glared behind the person so she couldn't clearly see their face. Her heart began to pound against her chest, her face turned red, her stomach started to grow butterflies, and she could hear her heartbeat in her ears.

'Could it be...?'

Judging from the figure, it was a man. A strong one at that. She could see the silhoutte of a pony tail. Hope bloomed within her.

"Tsugiku--"

"(Name)-chan! That was close! You nearly fell!" She was pulled back to her feet and she deadpan need. It was just Sumiyoshi, the charcoal maker. He beamed at her and she just gave an embarrassed look. he noticed her flushed face and tilted his head to the side," Is there something wrong? "

"U-uhm...no, the-there's charcoal on your face..." She pointed at her left cheek as an excuse. He chuckled and wiped his right cheek when in fact there was no charcoal smears, "A-Anyway, I have your fruits!"

"Oh, perfect! If that's the case, why don't you join us eat it, (Name)-chan? My wife and baby would definitely love your company!" He said, grinning. She couldn't reject the offer because one, she also wanted to see the samurai, and two, she wanted to see how Suyako and the baby in her stomach was doing. It has only been two weeks since they knew she was pregnant.

Sumiyoshi led the way around the house to the back where Suyako was found sitting on the engawa and sewing together a haori. She lifted her head up and beamed upon seeing (Name).

"(Name)-chan, my, you're here!" She stood up, putting her sewing to a halt, "I'll prepare you tea--oh! Did you actually come here to deliver our fruits?"

"Yes, Suyako-san." (Name) smiled and clumsily put her basket down and reached for the packaged fruits. She handed it to the woman while Sumiyoshi put her basket on the side for a while. Suyako unwrapped the packaged and gasped.

"My, your family is really thriving! Your fruits look healthy and yummy!" She complimented and (Name) bashfully scratched her cheek.

"Oh, no... We just take good care of the orchard and the farm." She replied, she unconsiously looked around for their other visitor but then she turned back to the couple who were talking about what to prepare as snacks.

"Come on up here the engawa, (Name)-chan! In the meantime, I'll make us some snacks!" She said and the younger girl nodded as she got up on to the engawa and sat there next to the haori Suyako was working on. Sumiyoshi went back at the other side of the house, saying that he was chopping wood. (Name) wanted to ask if they had any other visitors but she was too shy to do so.

She sat in silence on the ngawa while winging her feet back and forth. She inhaled the fresh forest breeze and smiled. It was nice to be up the mountain surrounded by pure greenery. After a while, she could hear Suyako calling out to Sumiyoshi and she came out from behind (Name) while holding a bucket

"Dear, we don't have water for washing the cutlery any--oh, he isn't here." She said, spotting the girl only.

"Ah, he's on the other side, chopping wood by the front, I think." She replied softly, standing up, "I'll get the water for you!"

"Aw, my, thank you, sweetie." Suyako handed the bucket to her, "Just walk ahead the forest until you find a ditch. In that ditch, runs river water. A bucketful is fine, okay? Also, don't exhaust yourself! You know how your body is!"

(Name) bowed and waved at her, the woman smiled sweetly and retreated back in to attend to what she was making. (Name) hummed as she threaded through the foliage and she would look up occasionally to see the trees' canopy. Only few sunlight poured out because the trees covered most parts.

Ahead of her, she could hear the flowing of water. She grinned to herself but then froze when she heard a rustle close by. She paused to look around but found no signs of demons. Of course there would be no demons, it was broad day light. Maybe it was just a wild animal. She breathed a sigh of relief before pressing on in a hurried manner.

Finally, she spotted the ditch SUmiko was telling her and hidden in between it was clear river water. She smiled and kneeled on to the ground, one hand laced against the soft soil to support her and one on the bucket's handle. She scooped up a bucketful but instantly regretted it because her noodle arm couldn't lift it up.

"Hnnng.. !" She tried lifting it up but her arm shook violently, the water spilling out of the bucket. She pouted and bent down again to scoop what water she lost. But she still couldn't lift it, "Why...am I...so weak... !"

She then grabbed the handle of the bucketful of water with both hands, her legs being the only support holding on to the ground. She felt her arms shake from the water's weight as she was slowly managing to lift it up. She beamed and cheered.

'I can do it... I can--'

"Do you need help? "

She flinched and let out a shocked gasp, she dropped the bucket and the bucket took her with it and she fell into the river. She quickly scrambled up, grabbing the bucket, and standing on the shallow water. She looked up to see Yoriichi. On his back was four heavy looking tree logs that were simply tied on to his person. He didn't have his haori on, meaning that the haori Sumiko was sewing earlier was him.

She gaped and turned red. While he was looking hot even in sweat, she was drench from head to toe like a lost kitten. Plus she was standing in the river with an empty bucket. He gave her one of his indifferent gazes, "Sorry..."

"I-i-i-it's okay! It's okay!" She stammered, getting herself out the ditch, he offered a hand and she looked at his calloused hands. She blushed and took it. He pulled her up with ease, scaring her a bit on how strong he was. He took the bucket from her and scooped up water," O-oh! Thank you!!"

He nodded and they silently walked back. (Name) felt a bit guilty that he carried her bucket despite the heavy load on his back but she was glad that it was indeed him who was the visitor of the Kamados. She wanted to ask why but kept it to herself.

" Oh, what happened to you, (Name)-chan? ! You're drenched!" Sumiyoshi spotted her as soon as they came out into the clearing, "Yoriichi-san! You're back! Thank you for helping out, both of you!"

"(Name)! What happened, did you fall in the river?" Suyako yelled from the engawa, "Come over here and get changed, we don't want you to get sick!"

(Name) smiled then she remembered that Yoriichi was carrying her bucket butbwhen she turned around, he had already given it to Yoriichi.

"Uhm, thank you for carrying that for me. I'm sorry for being weak." She bowed at the samurai who put down the logs on his back.

His hanafuda earrings swayed along when he shook his head, "You are not weak." He said, she blinked, "You were trying your best earlier, that is strength and not weakness."

She gaped her mouth open, her cheeks tinted pink at what he said. That was the first anyone told her such a thing. It was just a little effort yet he noticed.

She opened her mouth to speak but Suyako called her and when she turned, Yoriichi was already with Sumiyoshi.

"No one ever called effort as strength to me..."

#blue moon #kny yoriichi #yoriichi tsugikuni #yoriichi x reader #word

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gaycharr · 4 years

Text

Stages of Grief

A bit different than my usual writing style i think, just a quick(ish) thing. Do the stages of grief apply to a life? When you lose your way, that is also a sort of grief, is it not ?

Vetrius and, in a way, resolutions. Initially inspired by @tyrias-library ‘s resolutions prompt but idk if it follows that theme enough to still count

warning for themes of depression and talk of suicide

Shock and Denial

Childhood is innocent, yes, but at what point does that naivete start to change into a painful awareness of those around you? Vetrius could pinpoint the exact moment.

She’d never given much thought to her own image until here. She was happy, and sociable. She enjoyed chatting with the others in her Fahrar and never thought twice about offering a hand to another.

It seemed this very thing was what would bring her new revelation around. Practicing in the yard (swords today) after a heavy rain. When her sparring partner slipped backwards, falling heavily to the ground as their sword thudded away, there was no hesitation on her end. She dropped her sword, stepped forward to offer her hand to her friend, and froze at the look on their face.

They sneered up at her angrily, eyes glittering. Vet felt numb as they slapped her paw from them and scrambled to their paws themself. She didn’t react even as the smaller cub shoved at her shoulders, making her take a step back as she blinked at them, still processing.

“Burn it! You’re so...so..SOFT! Can’t you just be normal?” The other cub hissed at her before stalking away. Vet felt her ears burning under the weight of the stares of the others. Her stomach churned. How had she missed this? Now that she looked, she noticed the pattern of slit gazes and twitching tails. How bodies angled from her and the line of the shoulders grew tense and flat.

Vet clenched her fangs. No, no, this was fine. This was normal. Nothing had happened.

Pain and Guilt

In the wake of her newfound hyper vigilance of others, Vetrius seemed to see evidence of her wrongness everywhere. Always too ready to offer a smile, to compromise, to lend a hand. These came naturally to her, but now it was soured by the jarring realization that these weren’t strengths, but weaknesses. It sat heavy within her, writhing and occasionally growing overwhelming and clawing up her throat.

At night she curled up on her bunk in a tight ball hugging her knees to her chest, tail wrapped around her. She clenched her teeth against the cresting waves of despair within her, clawed at the sheets in the breathless pain of emotion. What had she done to be so alone?

Anger

Slowly, so slowly, Vet’s pain and despair started to boil into anger. Why was it so hard for others to just accept each other, to be kind? Why was SHE the odd one out, for having fucking compassion? How dare she give a shit, how dare they treat her like this!

She withdrew ever further within herself. No longer attempting to bridge the gap between her and others, what was the point, she didn’t matter to them and she didn’t want to. No longer was she content either, to ignore snide remarks made against her, and her claws and fangs became ready to bear as she growled back.

She thought it was ironic, in a blood boiling way, how before she was too soft, but now she seemed too harsh, too prickly. The others avoided her now, not out of second hand embarrassment but out of a sort of discomfiting fear that the dog they’d beat might bite back now. She felt too big in her fur these days, felt as if she was always clenching her fangs against something- she didn't know what, just that it would be horrible to unleash.

Wasn’t she perfect now though? She thought with a snarl. Big and angry and ready to fight.

(and Bargaining)

She didn’t need them to accept her though. She could just- run away. Start a new life.

This thought manifested in different ways, but quickly took a turn for unhealthy. To fantasize of a new life is okay, but not when you stray into the territory of ‘can i just die now so i can have a new life’. The thought turned into claws over skin, an increasing recklessness with herself, an always prickling sense of being prepared for a fight against her peers.

And then it happened. A heavy storm that her band was caught in, trekking back home after some field practice. Heavier than normal. Vet foolishly remarked this out loud, and instantly remembered herself as another scoffed. “Scared of a little water?” was the sneered reply.

Vet felt her fur grow hot, start to bristle at the shoulders. Felt that ugly something rear up in her, ready to bite. And just as she opened her mouth, a flash of lightning blinded her. In the receding bright and boom of thunder, they all stared in shocked awe as a large portal opened in front of them.

Instantly her band began to bicker about what to do. Vet felt her anger fade as she considered. “We should go back and tell the others, see what they want to do about this.” It seemed sensible to her, what were they gonna do, step through it? Nothing else to do but find someone who could at least take a proper look.

Except- to her band- it translated into cowardice, a want to leave the situation and have someone else handle it. “You would say that! Hah! Why dont you just run along for us, we’ll stay here and do the hard work.” And suddenly the anger was back and boiling up and finally, Vetrius could no longer bared it.

It radiated off her, heavy and palpable, and even the storm seemed to quiet as everyone hushed and stared at her, waiting for the wave to crest. Her clenched fists trembled, blood mixing with the rain where her claws dug into her own skin.

She thought about turning around. Though about ripping into every single one, fighting until they had no choice but to admit that she was Strong, Stronger than them even. Distantly, breathlessly, and almost furiously disappointed in herself for it, she knew that she wasn’t going to do that.

Instead, she took a deep breath, and stepped through the portal. She would have a new life, one way or another.

Depression

The mists were unlike anything Vetrius had ever thought to expect. They were...ineffable, indescribable, in a way that sometimes struck an odd chord of nostalgia within her.

They were dangerous too, she quickly learned. When she first stepped into the mists from the portal, still dripping with rain water as it snapped shut behind her, she’d felt only a numb angry sort of joy. She’d stuck it to them! Except...what now?

Time passed, or at least Vetrius thought it did. It was hard to tell, some areas seemed to lack any sort of sun or moon even. She could measure it only by her hunger, which stopped being effective as she slowly began to starve, the small meals she was able to catch not quite enough.

Often she could feel the weight of a gaze on her, or would snap her head around looking for the source of an imagine whisper. She must be going crazy. She must be dying. The thought came almost as a relief to her. Or...she wanted it to be a relief, so she refused to admit that it wasn’t.

She struggled on and on and on. The worse her shape became, the more she struggled, the more the panic within her started to rise. Her admittance was just on the tip of her tongue but still she couldn’t let it out.

It was in the dead of night. She’d come across some berries and, starving, had eaten them. It was the wrong choice, she could feel her stomach rolling. By the time the cold sweat of fear had reached her, she knew it was too late, whatever she had eaten was undeniably poison and finally she was faced with the reality that she was going to die, possibly any moment.

Her limbs began to tingle, her vision growing hazy. She shook her head dizzily, trying to stay in focus. Her breaths came in harsh pants. And finally, FINALLY, her realization hit her in a bright burst of light.

(the upward turn)

She...she didn’t want to die! She could feel the thought fill her, breaking through the walls she’d built against her own self. She didn’t want to die, she wanted to live! She WANTED to live.

Her teeth creaked as she clenched them, heaving breaths through her nose desperately as she crumbled but suddenly unwilling to give up.

But it was too late, wasn’t it? Her arms shook, her mouth watered sickeningly. And- and-

Her vision was growing bright, so bright! She could barely see through the blinding light now. She was supposed to stay AWAY from the light, right? She stumbled back, not realizing that her vision had suddenly cleared, her limbs quickly regaining control.

“Be not afraid.” The voice sounded amused, and comforting. Vet could taste a spring breeze, despite the dusty crumbling walls of some mist castle around her. The light started to recede, and finally Vet realized that she wasn’t going to die, actually.

She looked up at the being of light, and it caused a weird feeling to squirm through her. Vet was kneeling, she realized, looking up at this angel (what else could it be?) with teary eyes. The Angel extended a hand down to her, the limb solidifying within the fluctuating light.

Unthinking, Vet blinked away her tears as she reached up, took the hand, and allowed herself to be pulled to her feet.

Reconstruction

“You want to leave this place.” Hearing Angel’s voice wasn’t always a common thing. Even now that they had learned some of their bond, Angel usually spoke through impressions of emotions or flashes of images in Vet’s mind.

Vet faltered. Much time had passed now, Vet was positive. She wasn’t a cub anymore. After Angel saved her, the two had just seemed to be entwined. Their bond wasn’t an instant thing after that, but it grew quickly as Angel followed and watched over Vet. The two grew together, and it was...nice, despite it all, Vet thought at least. She’d had a lot of growing to do, she’d realized.

Vet hadn’t had a home in a long time, but this place still wasn’t it. If Angel had asked before now, the fear of facing reality might have driven Vet to deny the statement, but intuitive as their connection was now she must have sensed that Vet was ready to face these issues.

Acceptance and Hope

Vet didn’t vocally accept, but Angel’s presence brightened at the responding emotion of agreement and acceptance reflected from Vetrius. And excitement, even.

A part of Vetrius felt terrified, as Angel steered her towards a portal that would spit her back out into Tyria after so long. But it was overpowered by the thrill of hope running through her.

She’d gone through so much, but she’d also learned so much. She was ready to accept the pain she’d been through: in her childhood, in the mists, the pain she may yet be to face. As long as she keeps growing, she’ll be okay.

#gw2 #c: vet #and theres vet's backstory! for the most part

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xiaomomowrites · 5 years

Note

Greek mythology eremika if you wanna do another mythology that’s fine 😊

Introduction: Uh haha okay, this one was really fun (too fun) and we maybe might have possibly a little bit got carried away. So get ready for a long list because this one was too good. Set in a modern day AU where Greek mythology exists, thus, gods, goddesses, and demi-god[esse]s exist are a thing.

Eren is son of Hades (whose mortal form was Grisha) and Carla, so he’s a demi-god.

He doesn’t wanna be like his dad, and he gets a little insecure with his anger issues that were a lot worse when he was 15 hah.

Mikasa is the daughter of Aphrodite and Ares, Levi is her half brother, they share the same dad, but his mom was a mortal. Mikasa is a goddess.

Powers consist of ridiculous strength and fighting skills

Mikasa comes down to Earth because she’s bored, and she felt inexplicably drawn to Eren, while she was watching from above.

He was so powerfully drawn to her too, but it’s ‘cause she’s the daughter of Aphrodite lol

Eren outs himself by saving her. Mikasa, tactful and immortal, wasn’t afraid when she got held up at gunpoint, but he panicked and saved her recklessly, thus revealing the fact that he’s half god.

At first Eren is hesitant on starting something up with her because he thinks her lifespan is much shorter than his, assuming she’s mortal. But after the incident he realizes he loves her anyway, and would rather spend whatever time he has with her as best as he can…so he makes a move.

“Hey, I like you, a lot. Do you wanna see where this goes?” (it ends up basically a relationship, she just doesn’t want to put a label on it and make it official)

Mikasa says “I’m just visiting, don’t wanna get too attached” (she’s vague; he assumes she means she’s just visiting the country)

So they hang out a lot; she loves being around him, it makes her feel something. She finds that she actually enjoys being on Earth

Eren’s always flexing his powers when it’s just the two of them

he shows off his inhuman strength whenever he can, she finds this cute lol

Eren uses his invisibility to scare her but she already knows he’s there, she’s not stupid. Mikasa plays along and pretends to be scared

He does some lame romantic shit with candles he lit (fire power yuh) and tries to ask her to be with him again.

“I don’t get it, do you..not…like me?” he asks one day. She still says no because she feels like she can’t be with him with this big secret.

“No, I do.”

“Then why…?”

“It’s complicated.”

Their relationship would be tied to his lifespan (again, because these two just can’t get a break haaah) and that’s also a deterrent for Mikasa.

“But I love you” oof.

Armin is the child of Hermes, but only Eren knows. Mischievous lil shit, my boy. Both of them think Mikasa is mortal.

Mikasa says things and lets clues slip of what she is and Armin puts two and two together

They visit an old statue built after the Great Titan War, erected to commemorate one of the gods, and Eren just really likes looking at it because it reminds him of who he is. Mikasa smiles fondly, “ha, I remember when this was built.”

Eren laughs it off, “Good joke, but you’re only twenty-four. I get to live to be ten thousand years old.”

Mikasa finds this cute, but just smiles at him.

People start dressing like they used to in the sixties, and Mikasa says “aw, they’re bringing it back. But personally, I always liked the Roaring Twenties the best.” Eren just thinks she’s talking about decades like it’s history, not as if she’s already lived through it.

Mikasa doesn’t flex like Eren does but obviously it shows here and there:

of course she’s irresistible af, she just gets the attention of like everyone, male and female (lol I’m looking at you, Sasha), so cue jealous Eren.

especially Eren, who finds himself absolutely enamored with her and gets caught staring way too many times. “How is this fair?? I’m a demi-god, I should be immune to this.”

Work out buddieeesssss, and she lowkey curls heavier weights than he does. Instead of being mad jelly he appreciates the fact that she’s crazy strong

She teaches him how to fight hah

postscript:

“So, Mikasa, are you good at Greek Mythology?” Armin takes the seat in front of her as soon as Eren is out of earshot.

She eyed him warily, “I guess I am. It was my favorite subject in school.”

“Mhmm,” he hums, “so if you’ll indulge me for a moment…?”

“Go ahead.”

“Alright, so. Aphrodite, as you probably know, was married to Hephaestus, but she had an affair with Ares, yes?”

“Mhmm,” Mikasa nods.

“It’s just, when Ares and Aphrodite are written together, their most commonly told story is of them being ridiculed for infidelity. And more often than not, Ares’ name is associated with humiliation. And so that got me thinking,” Armin continues, “all that ridicule to such a powerful god- the God of War, mind you- don’t you think that would tamper with his reputation? Don’t you think that by being with Aphrodite for one night, his entire life was ruined?”

“It’s hard to say,” Mikasa replies bitterly. She recalls her father, drinking away his problems with Dionysus as he reluctantly withers under the cruel words of other people. He may be the God of War, but he’s not exactly the best at dealing with internal battles. “Gossip and rumors tend to ruin a lot of people.”

“There’s one thing I just can’t seem to shake off, though,” he goes on, “it says in all the books that Ares has many offspring: Eros, Anteros, Phobos, Deimos, Harmonia, Himerus, and Adrestia.”

Yes, Mikasa frowns internally, she’s aware of all her (half) brothers and sisters.

“But there’s always one more kid they never mention. She’s only ever alluded to, but she’s the first born of Aphrodite and Ares. They said she was a beautiful child with black hair smoother than a baby’s bum and porcelain skin. Now you’d think that she’d exist somewhere: maybe in the background of one of the pictures, a name quickly mentioned in a conversation, hell, even just a supporting character somewhere, but no. She’s nowhere to be found. And yet every book I’ve read on Greek mythology says she exists. Thoughts?”

Mikasa stares at him, and if Armin wasn’t totally trying to fuck with her he might be a little scared.

“I mean, with both her parents being the head of a scandal and the whole world thinking you are a bastard-” Mikasa physically recoiled at this, but Armin continued, “it can all be overwhelming, no? I like to think she took the next opportunity to start her own life- rid of all rumors and untainted with impurities- and ran with it. But by doing this, do you maybe think she was a coward? She couldn’t face what people thought-”

“No.” she answers sharply.

No, she was not a coward. Mikasa was the daughter of Ares, damn it, like hell she would shy away from a problem. Realizing that she answered too quickly for it not to be suspicious, she tries to recover. “I mean, there’s no telling what she was thinking. I think… she just wanted to start over. She wanted a new life, one that she could control. Not one where people had already judged her character while she was just a babe. It was unfair what people thought of her. Born a bastard, the daughter of a whore and a good-for-nothing man. It makes sense that she wanted to take back control of her own life- Armin, what brought all of this on, anyway?”

Armin just looks at her, eyes unreadable but still scrutinizing. One look, and Mikasa already knows.

“What?” he feigns innocence. How dare.

“Say it, Armin.” She challenges.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“No, say I’m the child of Aphrodite and Ares, or else I’m just a normal human being.”

Armin swallows hard. He stares at her, contemplating for a few moments. Her gaze was hard and almost threatening. This was the daughter of the God of War he was challenging; he was treading on thin ice. “You’re the child of Aphrodite and Ares.”

“You’re what?” It’s Eren who overhears, and suddenly both eyes are on him.

Mikasa’s whole composure falls, and guilt washes over Armin. “I’m sorry…I didn’t tell you.”

“No, this is great! Great!” Eren stops her before she can apologize anymore. Armin’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise. He fishes around for more words but they don’t seem to come to him. “It’s great!”

“One more and I’ll believe you.”

Eren pulls her into a hug, “I know my expiration date is ten thousand or something years, but I’d love to spend those ten thousand years with you.”

58 notes · View notes

mushroomminded · 5 years

Text

The Wishing Pond PART 1

Story by @creative-lightbulb

Illustrations by myself.

WARNING: MAY CONTAIN MAJOR MICOVERSE SPOILERS. If you are a new reader/follower to my account and the micoverse story, please proceed with care! Old followers, you know all this already. ;)

“Milo, I don’t think a questionably magical body of water cares about a wrinkled photograph,” Cody commented, taking a seat beside him at the pond’s edge.

“I gotta be specific-“ Milo defended “- If I only wish for my dad back and add nothing else we could have Dan or Jake clones running around!”

“Would that really be a bad thing?” Cody questioned, pulling at the grass as he pondered “I mean- your dads are pretty cool.”

“I know that, but two more dads means two more pairs of eyes keeping me from running out to unspecific lakes at five pm.” He replied.

“Pond,” Cody corrected. “This is a pond, lakes are much bigger.” Milo shoved him lightly.

“Whatever, nerd.” He scoffed, handing Cody the photo “Now let me make my wish in peace.”

Leaning forward, Milo whispered to the pond’s surface. Cody continued to pick at blades of grass in the meantime. Golden rays poked through the dense treetops, the distant chirping of birds filled the quiet.

After a pause, Milo sat back and folded his hands in his lap.

“So ... what now?” Cody asked. Milo glanced at him.

“I have no idea.” He admitted with a sigh. “There wasn’t anything specific about the wait time.”

Cody patted his shoulder lightly, words of reassurance on the tip of his tongue before a distant crunch in the grass caught his attention.

“Did you hear that?” He whispered, body tense as he listened intently.

“Hear what?” Milo asked, Cody shushing him before continuing to listen.

The crunching grew closer, Milo going silent as the two listened to the footsteps.

“We need to leave.” Cody whispered. Milo glanced back at the still water with faint hesitation.

“But.. my wish.” He muttered. Cody gave him a pointed look.

“We can come back another time.” He insisted “Besides, I’m not—“

“What do you two think you’re doing here?”

A voice cut their bickering short, the two freezing in place as the crunching of grass stopped just behind them.

There was a good few seconds of silence, Milo finally turning to face the source of the voice, a stray rock clutched tightly in hand.

“Woah- calm down.” The man stepped back and readjusted the orange cap on his head.

“Who are you?” Milo asked, not releasing the rock but lowering his hand.

“Huni.” He answered “Though I feel I should be asking that question, as this kinda my pond.”

The boys exchanged a look. Milo finally dropped the rock before going to stand.

“Your pond?” Cody echoed.

“Yeah, so I kinda need to know why you two are hanging around.” Huni replied, shoving his hands into the pockets of his worn jeans.

”We were just about to leave, actually.” Cody began, grabbing onto Milo’s arm and trying to subtly tug him away.

“Do you know how these wishes work?” Milo asked instead, feet planted firmly in place.

Huni rocked on the balls of his feet, seeming to carefully consider his next words.

“Depends,“ He began, glancing at the water, “What did you wish for?”

The discomfort was apparent as Milo shifted in place.

“Why do you need to know?” He asked, shoving his hands in his hoodie pocket.

“The more complex the wish, the longer it takes.” Huni answered with a shrug.

Disappointment overtook Milo’s features. Cody gave him another light tug in the direction they came.

“We’re sorry for trespassing.” Cody apologized. Huni shook his head.

“Oh, no it’s alright, you came for wishes after all.” He insisted. “That’s what this place is for!”

Milo finally gave into Cody’s tugging, and the two slowly headed back towards the hill that they’d entered through.

The pond began to bubble faintly.

“Aw man, seriously?” Milo groaned, lacing up his shoes as he kept his phone pressed to his ear with his shoulder.

“Yep, Dad wasn’t so happy about me being out near dark.” Cody sighed. “So I’m kinda not allowed to go out today.”

“That’s dumb, it was hardly sunset!” Milo replied, heading towards the front door.

“I probably should’ve told him where we were going..” Cody reasoned. “He’s just looking out for me.”

“He wouldn’t have let you go at all if you told him!” Milo countered. “Then he’d call my dads and complain until they kept me from going too.”

“You aren’t planning on going again, are you?” Cody asked. Milo dug through his pockets.

“Of course I’m going again.” Milo answered. “I gotta check up on my wish and I might’ve accidentally left that photo back there anyways.”

“Well ... be careful.” Cody replied. “And tell me if you find anything cool, maybe I just might make a wish too.”

“Can do.” Milo said.

The two said their goodbyes and Milo slapped a sticky note detailing his whereabouts onto the fridge before dashing out the door.

He came skidding to a halt at the hilltop, staring down at the two figures lounging by the pond.

He recognized Huni from the other day, the stringy blond hair being new to him but overall the same dude. It was the man sat beside him that really had Milo’s attention.

He looked so much like his pictures.

“Dad!!!” Milo exclaimed, sprinting down the hill as fast as his legs would allow.

The two turned in the direction of his shouting, the man beside Huni staring at him with surprise when he practically threw his arms around him.

“Milo..?” The man’s voice was dripping with disorientation, yet he found his arms slowly wrapping around the boy regardless.

Milo squeezed him tight, faint sniffles mixed in with his overjoyed laughter.

He glanced Huni, the hint of worry on his face souring the mood slightly. He said nothing.

Leading the man away by the hand, Milo continued to ramble.

“Do you remember me?” He asked, “I was only a baby the last time you saw me but..”

“I remember.” The man replied, squeezing his hand reassuringly.

“Hah.. What will we even call you?” Milo sniffled, wiping at his eyes with his free hand “I mean .. I kinda was named after you and all- well my last name is different now but uh- still the same first y’know?”

“Last name...” the man trailed off.

“Oh!” Milo exclaimed, seeming to have come to an idea “We’ll just call you Sumney- uh .. if you’re okay with that.”

“That sounds wonderful.” Sumney replied with a warm smile. Milo grinned back.

”Dan and Jake are gonna be so happy to see you..” Milo’s expression was soft as they walked, still wiping at his tears “We all missed you so much.”

“I.. missed you too?” The confusion in his voice was overlooked as Milo picked up the pace, tugging him along on the way to the house.

Jake shrieked at the sight in the doorway, gripping into Dan’s arm as Milo’s smile fell.

“Milo.. What did you do?” Dan asked, patting Jake’s shoulder in an attempt to calm him.

“I just ... i just thought I could make things better...” Milo mumbled. Sumney frowned at his dejected tone.

“He didn’t do anything wrong.” Sumney defended. Dan and Jake’s gazes shifted to him with palpable discomfort.

“We need to talk with him.. privately.” Dan said slowly, tugging Milo inside. “Just.. wait out here.”

He shut the door.

“Milo who is that?” Dan asked, his voice low.

“Dad ... you know who it is already..” Milo sighed. Dan kneeled to his height.

“Listen... we know you’re older now and have a lot of questions about your bio dad but..” He glanced back at the front door. “This isn’t the way. I need to know how you did this and how to fix it.”

“You can’t,” Milo replied, arms crossed. “I brought him back, you can’t ‘fix’ anything.”

“Milo you couldn’t have possibly ‘brought him back‘.” Dan began. Milo focused his glare at the ground. “It’s just ... not possible. Whatever that is out there, it isn’t him.”

“You don’t know that!” Milo snapped.

Jake stared out of the window with wide eyes. Sumney stared right back.

“Please ... just trust me.” Dan began. Milo swatted away the hand he placed on his shoulder.

“Why do I just have to wait around for you two to decide to tell me stuff about him?” Milo complained. “Now that I finally have a way to talk to him you just wanna take it away!”

Dan sighed, standing upright and staring at the door.

“There are some things you’re just not ready to hear yet,” he said, a deep frown on his face.

“When will I be ready?” Milo asked. Dan looked back at him.

“I don’t know.” He admitted.

Milo marched back over to the door, opening it and pulling Sumney inside.

Dan avoided meeting his gaze. The argument fizzled out at his presence.

Jake walked to Dan’s side, placing a hand on his back and murmuring words of comfort.

“What’s the matter?” Sumney asked as he and Milo sat down on the living room couch together.

“It’s nothing.” Milo insisted, leaning against Sumney’s side. “I’m.. just glad you’re here.”

The two sat in silence for a while. Milo stared blankly at the TV as Sumney tapped his feet idly.

Jake led Dan through the living room, the two doing their best to avoid looking at the man on the couch. They headed down the hall.

Milo eventually drifted off, snoozing soundly on Sumney’s side. Sumney glanced at him, eventually opting to scoop him from the couch and carry him down the hall.

His room wasn’t hard to find, the plethora of shark-themed objects giving it away rather quickly. Pulling Milo’s shoes off, Sumney set the boy on the bed and tucked him in.

Sumney returned down the hall, taking in the sight of the house with odd familiarity. Digging through his pockets, he retrieved the wrinkled photo. He continued down the hall, fixated on the photo and the figures in it beside him.

He paused outside of a shut door, the sound of hushed whispers and choked sobs catching his attention.

Glancing from the photo to the door, he sighed and knocked.

“Milo?” A voice called out.

“Sumney, actually.” He answered “... Is everything alright, Jake?”

“Oh..” Jake stammered, Dan’s grip only tightening as he sobbed “You know my name..”

“Why wouldn’t I know your name?” Sumney replied, a deep frown on his face.

“.. Everything’s fine.” Jake assured him after a pause.

“Is Dan okay?” He followed up, his hand resting on the doorknob.

“Just stay in the living room .. please.” Jake pleaded, voice quiet.

Sumney retracted his hand, shoulders slumping in defeat as he slunk back to the couch.

Dropping the picture on the coffee table, he settled down on the couch. The silence of the house was deafening. He hated it.

After several minutes of uneventfulness, Sumney soon found himself drifting to sleep.

“Dad!” Milo whispered, nudging Sumney’s shoulder urgently.

Sumney groaned, sitting up and stretching as Milo stepped back. The boy had a bag slung over his shoulder, his hair tied up in a ponytail. Light was just beginning to peek through the blinds.

“Sorry about waking you..” Milo apologized. Sumney waved it off. “Just wanted to say bye before school.”

The two hugged as Dan waited at the front doorway in silence. Sumney watched him go.

“Bye, Dan.” Sumney said after Milo headed out of the front door. Dan tensed, pausing for a moment before shutting the door silently. A frown hung heavy on his face.

The house was silent once more. Sumney noticed things had been moved a bit since his unplanned nap. The coffee table was empty.

Standing, he took to wandering the hall to fill the time.

There was a single door ajar, the sound of frustrated muttering leaking into the hallway. His curiosity got the best of him.

He peeked into the room only to be greeted by Jake’s back. The man was hunched over a desk, typing sluggishly at his laptop with a steaming mug on one end and a dirty bowl on the other.

Sumney knocked softly.

Jake jumped, swiveling his chair around to face the door and faintly relaxing at the sight.

“Oh.” Jake said. “You’re still here..”

“Where else would I be?” Sumney asked.

“Listen...I’ve got a lot of work to catch up on so I’d appreciate some time to concentrate.” Jake sighed, drumming his hands against the desk.

“Well, maybe I can help?” Sumney replied, entering the room. He inched up to the desk side, scooping the bowl up.

Jake opened his mouth to speak, hesitating for a few moments before thanking him. Sumney smiled in return.

Sumney stepped back out into the hall, humming as he headed to the kitchen sink.

The rest of the day passed by rather smoothly, Jake remaining cooped up in his room aside from the rare instances of him shuffling into the kitchen and retreating with a refill of his coffee or a quick snack. It began a silent routine, Jake setting his dirty dishes and wrappers on the furthest left corner of the desk and Sumney coming to collect them. Neither seemed to mind.

When the doorknob began to wiggle Sumney glanced up from the book he was skimming. Milo had a wide grin as he entered the house, practically sprinting past Dan and towards the couch.

“Hey! Hey Dad!” He began, tugging on Sumney’s arm “Dan-Dad said we could all go to the aquarium today!!!”

“Oh?” Sumney replied, shutting and placing the book on the coffee table.

“Well he kinda promised a couple weeks ago but now it’s gonna be even better!” Milo was practically bouncing in place, tossing his bag onto the couch and pulling Sumney towards the hallway “C’mon, I gotta give you something first!”

Sumney chuckled softly. Dan watched the two head down the hall with a solemn expression.

“Alright, found it!” Milo popped his head out of the closet with a light blue sweater in one hand and a license in the other.

Sumney caught the sweater, pulling it over top of his t-shirt and reading the lettering before Milo tossed him the license.

“So that sweater was originally supposed to go to Dan or Jake but it didn’t really fit either of them.” Milo rambled “And you’re gonna need your diver’s license sooner or later.”

“It’s soft. I like it” Sumney replied, looking over the license before pocketing it “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome!” Milo grinned, taking his hand and dragging him back out into the hall. “Go get Jake dad and I’ll see you in the car!”

Milo headed back into his room, grabbing his phone from the nightstand.

“Okay so you’re definitely not gonna believe what happened.”

There was an audible laugh from the other end of the line. Milo grinned widely.

“Try me.” Cody replied.

“The wish worked!” Milo exclaimed, pacing his room as he chatted away “I was worried for a second but it turned out better than expected! It’s like he never died, he looks all aged and everything!”

“There’s still that price to worry about. If everything we read is true, it’s gonna happen sooner or later.” Cody warned.

“Nah, I was really specific!” Milo countered. “If you’re specific enough it can’t find a loophole to make things suck!”

“I don’t think waving a photo around counts as being specific...” Cody replied.

“Oh c’mon don’t be like this! Everything’s fine!” Milo assured him. “I’ll bet if you ask the pond dude he’ll tell you the same thing.”

“I doubt it..” Cody mumbled. Milo sighed.

“Well... I gotta go.” He said, his excitement being thoroughly damped “Bye.”

He hung up before there was a response.

Opening the door, he was surprised to see Sumney standing right outside.

“Uh ... ready to go?” Milo asked. Sumney nodded silently before taking his hand.

They headed towards the car.

Cody shoved his phone into his pocket, worry bubbling in his chest as he crept out of his room.

The house was quiet and Cody was able to slip out the front door and into the cool afternoon with little trouble. He took off down the street.

By now he knew the way to the pond pretty well, before he knew it he was already sliding down the hillside into the clearing.

“Hello?” He called out, wandering into the open. “Pond... man?”

“I’m right here.” Huni announced, emerging from the tree line. Cody spun around, startled by his sudden appearance.

“Oh! It’s you again!” Huni wore an expression of pleasant surprise. “Do you need something?”

“Well... Yeah.” Cody admitted. “It’s about my friend— the kid with the shark hoodie— and his wish..”

Huni frowned, motioning for Cody to follow and taking a seat next to the pond before patting the grass beside him. Cody sat beside him.

“You’re worried?” He asked. Cody nodded.

“It’s just ... the price.” Cody sighed. “He’s so happy about this and I don’t want to ruin it for him but what if something bad happens?”

“I’ve been having doubts too.” Huni admitted, picking at the bandages on his hand as he spoke. “If I’m being honest... I’ve never seen a wish like this get granted before, so I’m just as in the dark as you.”

“That’s not very reassuring..” Cody mumbled, the frown on his face deepening. “I was kinda hoping you’d tell me I was being silly or something.”

“Sorry to disappoint.” Huni said, patting his shoulder lightly.

The two sat in silence for a while, Cody watching the ripples slowly travel across the surface of the pond as he thought. Huni began to speak.

“You didn’t make a wish, did you?” He asked. Cody glanced up at him.

“No.” Cody answered “Why do you ask?”

“That’s good!” Huni exclaimed, taking a minute to stand before grinning at him. “We can work with that!”

“What do you mean?” Cody replied, standing as well.

“We can make a backup plan in case things go wrong.” Huni explained. “With you still having a wish that makes things a whole lot easier.”

“Really?” A small smile had crept onto Cody’s face, relief was evident in his expression.

“Let’s get to work.” Huni said, taking a step towards the pond with Cody following soon after.

The water shimmered.

“—And that’s Chomps.” Milo pointed at the figure leisurely swimming past in the viewing tank “She’s my favorite.”

“She’s certainly big.” Sumney commented, watching the shark glide about in the tank.

“What?” Milo nearly laughed “She’s one of the smallest sharks around!”

“You’re kidding.” Sumney replied, gesturing towards the tank. “Look at her!”

“Well this aquarium doesn’t specialize in sharks so they can only properly care for smaller ones.” Milo explained. “Though, Jake promised me we’d go to the Georgia Aquarium some day! They have whale sharks!”

“I do not like the sound of whale sharks.” Sumney admitted. “Too big. Too many teeth.”

“Whale sharks are just big and soft!” Milo defended. “You’re thinking of great whites and I happen to think their teeth are cool!”

“That makes one of us.” Sumney mumbled. Milo shoved him lightly in mock offense.

“Daaaaan! I need some back up here!” Milo turned back towards Dan and Jake who were facing another tank. He headed towards them.

“Hey!” He grabbed onto Dan’s arm, the smile on his face falling at Dan’s expression “...Are you okay?”

Dan gave him a silent nod as Jake squeezed his hand reassuringly. Milo’s hold on him loosened.

“He’s just feeling a bit under the weather... Did you need something?” Jake asked. Milo let go of Dan’s arm entirely.

“Nah... it’s fine.” He sighed, taking one last look at the two before returning to Sumney’s side.

“You okay?” Sumney asked. Milo shrugged.

“Dad drama.” Milo answered. “Dan’s not feeling well I guess.”

Sumney glanced back at the pair, his eyes lingering for a moment before he patted Milo’s back.

“Don’t let that ruin your fun.” He said after a pause. “Why don’t you tell me more about the sharks, hm?”

The drive home was silent, the occasional illumination from the passing streetlights only amplifying the new layer of tension between four. Milo stared out the window.

Upon entering the house Milo was almost instantly sent to bed, Jake insisting he needed rest because it’s a school night and Dan ending the continued protest.

The bedroom door slamming was heard throughout the house.

Sumney watched Jake sigh and retreat down the hallway, whether it was to hide himself away in his room or to attempt to quell Milo’s tantrum was unclear.

“Hey, Dan?” Sumney said. The taller man’s shoulders tensed at the mention of his name.

“...Yes?” He replied after a pause, still refusing to look Sumney’s way.

“Can we talk? Please?” Sumney asked, heading over to and taking a seat on the couch. He patted the cushion beside him, giving an inviting smile.

Dan sunk into the couch, the exhaustion evident on his face. He flinched at Sumney’s touch.

“I know something happened...I don’t know what but I do know it happened to me.” Sumney began, resting his hand on Dan’s arm “And ... I do know that me being here is kinda opening old wounds and such ..”

Dan sniffled, his eyes watering as he remained silent.

“It’s all really confusing and making my head hurt so ... I really don’t wanna think about it too much.” Sumney continued. “And you probably don’t want to either, right?”

He placed his hand over top of Dan’s, running his thumb over his knuckles in soothing repetition.

“We don’t have to think about it.” Sumney insisted as Dan finally glanced in his direction. “We can just...be, y’know?”

“I’d...I’d like that.” Dan admitted, clearing his throat after his voice came out in a hoarse whisper. “I’d like that a lot.”

Sumney smiled warmly, cupping Dan’s face in his hands and wiping at his tears with his thumb.

“Then no more tears, okay?” He said. “You know I hate to see you cry.”

“I’m sorry.” Dan let out a weak laugh, wiping at the tears collection at the bottom of his chin. “It just hurts so much.”

“I know it does and you don’t need to apologize.” Sumney assured him, running a hand through his hair briefly “C’mere.”

Sumney pulled him into a hug, Dan hesitating for a moment before returning it at full force. He began to sob.

“I’ve missed ya, big guy.” Sumney mumbled, patting Dan’s back as his sobs became muffled by the fabric of his sweater.

Jake took a step back, thankful he hadn’t interrupted. He glanced back at Milo’s door, worried for a moment that the boy would already be out and possibly disrupt the scene playing out before him, but the door remained shut and the house was silent aside from Dan’s unintelligible apologies and muffled sniffling. Jake headed back down the hall, entering his own room before softly shutting the door behind him.

Dan and Sumney pulled apart and Sumney smiled, the shoulder of sweater damp with tears. Dan gave him a weary grin in return. The bags under his eyes never looked so deep.

“You tired?” Sumney asked. Dan sniffled quietly.

“Very.” He answered. The two rose from the couch.

“Let’s get you to bed then.” Sumney replied, a hand resting on his back. “What you need us a good night’s rest.

He led Dan down the hall. The two made sure to be silent as they passed the other two rooms. Dan collapsed on his bed the moment he reached it.

“Goodnight.” Sumney said, lingering in the doorway as Dan attempted to get comfortable. They locked eyes.

“Can I tell you something?” Dan asked.

“Always.” Sumney answered.

Dan rolled onto his back, gaze fixated on the ceiling as he spoke.

“I’m really glad you’re back.” He admitted, voice soft as he shut his eyes.

Sumney smiled warmly, drumming his fingers against the doorframe as he thought of his response.

“Can I tell you something?” He asked. Dan chuckled faintly.

“Always.” He answered, smiling slightly.

“I’m glad to be back.” He whispered. Dan sniffled once more.

“I think I’ve had enough crying for today.” He replied after a bit “Goodnight.”

Sumney grinned, fingers wrapped tightly around the doorknob.

“Goodnight.

#art tag #fics #the wishing pond

63 notes · View notes

myouki · 5 years

Text

A Brewtiful Beginning: Chapter 8

Chapter Warning:

Swearing

Credits:

Goth: @nekophy

Palette: @angeutblogo

***

Two four-seater tables had been pushed together to accommodate the group, with Goth sat in between Palette and Zeke as the menus were passed around. Leaning over, the taller skeleton asked, "What are you getting?"

Goth looked down the menu, many of the names not looking familiar, "I... don't know, actually. I don't really drink much since I have a high tolerance. I have to drink a lot at once to actually get buzzed. My dad's the same way, it's pretty much water to him but he enjoys the taste. While I don't mind the taste, it's usually not worth the cost and the headache that comes after. Maybe-"

"Like water? You serious?" Zeke interrupted in disbelief, "I have to see this for myself, we're totally having a drinking contest."

Goth did a double-take, "Wait, what?"

"We're having a drinking contest," The man reiterated, "I'll pay for the drinks but loser pays for the food."

"That sounds fun, can I join?" Palette asked.

"What?" Goth's eye light shot over to his companion.

"I want to join too," Claire added on.

"We have four people so far, any other takers?" Zeke leaned over the table with a grin on his face.

"Nah, I want to watch this shitshow with my head on straight," Tamara laughed. Her comment was met with murmurs of agreement and nods from the rest of the group.

"Four people it is!" Zeke cheered, hailing the waitress over.

Goth clamped his mouth shut in resignation, beginning to remember the reason he usually didn't go out.

Palette leaned closer with a quirked socket, "You okay?"

The smaller feigned a smile, not wanting to put a damper on the night, "Yeah, I'm not used to being the center of attention is all. What about you? Are you going to be alright drinking so much?"

Palette's chest puffed out a bit as he stated, "Yup, I've done stuff like this, so I'll be okay!"

"If you say so...," Goth muttered, watching as the waitress walked away with the order.

---

"Shouldn't we stop now?" Goth inquired as he set down the empty glass of what was his fifth pint of beer. Claire had managed two full pints before she tapped out. Zeke was still trying to beat him but was clearly hitting his limit with his fourth beer.

Poor Palette had barely made it through his first pint before becoming giggly, his eye lights beginning to glaze over. Apparently whatever he had when he did 'stuff like this' before contained a much lower concentration of alcohol. Everyone else quickly agreed with Goth to make sure he only drank water for the rest of the night after he nearly fell out of his chair trying to cheer his coworkers on.

Zeke slammed down the glass and goaded the smaller, "What'sa matter, ya think I can' beat ya?"

Goth grimaced, "No, I just-"

"Another round den!" he shouted, receiving applause and encouragement from some of their coworkers.

"Go Goth, kick his ass!" Claire cheered wildly, punching her fist in the air while glaring at Zeke.

Tamara laughed, "Take it easy, you two'll get us thrown out if you both keep yelling."

Goth looked around the table, hoping someone would be the voice of reason. Unfortunately, everyone else was already either buzzed or drunk and couldn't care less. Some were even chanting now, clearly enjoying the spectacle.

The small skeleton quietly moaned to himself as two more pints were set on the table. At least everyone would have the day to recover tomorrow. Staring at the golden liquid in front of him in unease, the older man nudged Goth with his elbow, "Don' wimp out now."

He didn't want to ruin the night by being a wet blanket, so he supposed this was merely the price of being social. At least he got to hang out with Palette more, so that was something.

Sighing as he reached for the mug handle, a voice broke through the chanting, "Leave'm alone."

Everyone went quiet, their attention focused on the owner of the voice... Palette was glaring at the occupants of the table with hazy eye lights as he slurred, "Can't you see Got's not havin' fun? Ih's sup... supp... supposed t'be da best night eveeeer, but yer aaaaall bein' mean to 'im!"

"Palette...," though surprised and touched by the drunken speech, Goth tried to calm him down, "it's alright, they're not being mean..."

"Yeah, Ish aaaaall good," Zeke piped up, holding his glass aloft and sloshing some of the contents on the table.

"No ih's not!" Palette shouted vehemently, wrapping his arms around Goth's shoulders and neck before pulling them into his chest, "Got' sed 'e wants to stop. I won' letchu bully my Got'y!"

Goth's face exploded into a deep purple as Claire cried out, "Woooo Palette! You go, protect your man!"

Tamara placed her hand over her friend's mouth as she chastised, "Girl, you need to calm down or you really will get us thrown out."

"So bold...," Elise murmured in awe, her cheeks dusted in a blush of her own as Flo squealed next to her.

Tai snorted from beside Palette, "Wow... that sounded awful suggestive."

"Hey Zeke, maybe you should call it a draw?" Maury interjected from his seat next to the older man, "It's getting pretty late and Goth did ask to stop."

With the combination of Palette's outburst and the lack of enthusiasm from everyone else for the contest to resume, Zeke conceded, "Aaaalrigh', le's call ih a nigh'. Palit, yer payin' fer da food, seeing as ya lost. I go' da drinks."

"Good," the drunk skeleton gave a curt nod of his skull, letting go of Goth to navigate his coat pocket for his wallet. The small skeleton took a breath of relief that things were finally winding down, watching Palette struggle to count out the bills before offering to help him.

As everyone paid, haphazardly donned their coats, and meandered toward the door, Palette draped his arms around Goth's shoulders once more, resting their skull against his with a dopey grin. Though he felt flustered by the contact, it would admittedly be easier to get his companion home like this than making them walk on their own.

"Have a good night you two," Tamara laughed as the rest of the group dispersed, leading Claire away by the arm, "Good luck, Goth."

"I want deets tomorrow!" Claire demanded loudly, throwing a glance backward and swaying a bit as she walked.

Goth turned away with his companion still hanging off of him as Tamara pointed out, "Tomorrow's Sunday, we don't work."

"Whaaat...? Whyyy...?"

As the pair traveled down the empty sidewalk, away from the whining and bickering, Palette nuzzled into Goth's hood. His sudden clingy behavior combined with his earlier aggression had the smaller asking, "Palette, are you feeling alright?"

"Oh, 'm great," Palette hummed, leaning into him, "Whatabou'you? Didja have fun? You had fun, right?"

Goth tried to keep himself from falling over as he replied, "Yeah, the whole contest thing got umber my skin a bit, but everything else was alright."

"HAH! Tha'sanother pun, righ'? We don' even have skin!" Palette burst out laughing, only to shift into his best attempt at a puppy dog stare while imploring, "But you'll come out again, right? Pleeease say you'll come out again."

Goth relented, trying not to laugh in Palette's face, "If I'm invited, I'll come out again."

"Yaaaaaay 'm sooo happy!" Palette whooped in victory, nuzzling him again, "Yer da best ever Got'y!"

"Uh... th... thanks," the monster stammered, his soul doing flips in his chest. One phrase from earlier popped into his mind unbidden: my Gothy.

Tai had called it 'suggestive', though he debated what it actually meant for them. Did the words mean something deeper? Sure, they got along really well, he'd shared something emotionally personal with Palette, and the thought of being more than friends made him feel giddy... but it was foolish to jump to conclusions.

What had happened was more likely to be the drunken rambling of a friend than a confession. It already seemed like Palette was drifting off as he clung to Goth to stay upright, so he would likely wake up tomorrow and not remember a thing, rendering the night moot.

Taking a deep breath, Goth dug into his pocket for his keys as their apartment building came into view.

#Poth #Goth #Palette Roller #ABB #MyWriting #Coffee AU #Swearing #Puns

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timegearing · 5 years

Text

PMD: The Course of Everything: Chapter Nine- A New, Old Plan

Harper couldn’t sleep, and not just because she had given her bed to Cassander. Sure, the ground was cold and hard out here in their makeshift camp. The lean-to that Winnie built helped shield the trio from the wind, but did little to help the chill.

Even if she’d been inside, she probably wouldn’t have been able to sleep. She glanced towards her companions. Winnie lay on their side, hooves tucked under their head, the blanket tangled around them. Cassander was merely a lump under Harper’s blanket, only her muzzle sticking out to the open air. The knot in Harper’s stomach tightened.

Why had she agreed to help the kid? She knew why, but why? This kid was the sibling of her would-be murderer! And she was looking for him! Harper would rather walk into Giratina’s mouth than return to Clarity’s Guild. How could she, knowing Pokemon were out to get her there? Even if it was just Lyre, she couldn’t bear to see him again. Not when things had just started to look up.

Nothing was stopping her from simply packing up and running away. Harper glanced to the path ahead, a familiar itch in her talons. She really was good at running, it wouldn’t be anything new.

Then, Winnie snorted and turned to face her. Harper froze guiltily, but they were still asleep, snoring softly. Harper’s feathers grew warm once more, and she turned away. She couldn’t leave them, not now. Maybe she could ditch them once they got to a town, where they would be safe, and find other, better Pokemon to help them.

That plan seemed sound, so why did Harper still feel guilty?

Harper must have fallen asleep without realizing it, for she awoke suddenly, her heart pounding again her ribcage.

“Who said that?” she said groggily.

“Huh?” the slurred response came from a few inches away from her. Harper jolted in shock when she came face to face with Winnie, who blinked blearily at her.

“D-did you say that?” Harper asked again.

“Say what?” Winnie yawned, “Was I talking in my sleep or something?”

Harper’s heart sank. No, it hadn’t been Winnie who’d spoken. The voice she’d heard had been in her dreams, and had been deeper, and more familiar. She’d heard this voice before, in her sleep. What had they said?

“You okay?” her companion asked, looking concerned, “Did you have a nightmare or something?”

“Can’t remember,” Harper replied, “Must not have been important, hah.”

Harper’s blanket shifted, and a moment later, Cassander’s head popped out from underneath.

“Issit morning?” she mumbled, large ears twitching.

“Yep!” Winnie replied, “Did you sleep well?”

Harper tried to hide her discontent. The more she looked at Cassander, the more she saw the Eevee’s brother: in the long, pointed ears, the fluffy mane, the somewhat long snout, and the green eyes. She seemed content, at the very least. She gave a small smile at Winnie’s questions, and answered in a quiet, bashful way.

“Yes. Thank you for the blanket, Harper,” she dipped her head in Harper’s direction.

“O-oh, it’s fine!” Harper replied with a flutter of her wings, “Not a problem at all!”

Cassander nodded. She opened, and then closed her mouth, looking nervous. Winnie glanced at her, and turned to Harper.

“So, what’s the plan now, Harper?”

“Oh,” Harper’s stomach dropped. She had no plan. “I-I have a plan! I just, uh…” Her beak grew warm at her companions’ stares, and she looked at their makeshift camp. “First we need to clean up the camp, then we can talk about it.”

Cassander tilted her head, and Winnie shrugged, but they got to work. Harper busied herself folding her blanket into her bag, mind racing with half-formed ideas. She couldn’t lead them right down the road to Bounty’s Keep: she would almost definitely run into another team. Winnie bumped her on the shoulder, a sizable stack of blankets and tent-pegs in their arms. Harper snatched a Wonder Map from her bag and stepped away.

The group was camped outside of Luscious Cove, which led onto the main road to Clarity’s. The path they were on circled back to Lavastone Village, which branched off into a few more paths, one of them containing a dungeon called Lonesome Quarry. Harper’s heart skipped a beat when she realized that, less than a day’s walk from that dungeon was Wisteria Village: the place Cassander had come from.

A plan unraveled in Harper’s mind, and not a moment too soon; Winnie had shoved the final blanket into their bag.

“So, the plan?” they asked.

“We’re going to go through Lonesome Quarry,” Harper said, hoping her voice didn’t tremble. She showed Winnie the map, making sure to hide Wisteria’s placemark with her wing. “There’s a path there that leads to Clarity Guild, a-a side path!”

Winnie didn’t seem to find it strange that there was no visible side path, instead nodding. Harper’s gut twisted once more.

“Um,” Cassander interjected, “I thought Luscious Cove was the best way to go,” she looked at the ground and shuffled her paws in the dirt, “That’s what my brother always said.”

“Well, your brother must have been wrong!” she replied, forcing a grin, “I used this route tons of times!”

“We’ll have to pass through Lavastone Village,” Harper closed the map before Cassander could look at it, “We can try and stock up there, maybe sell some of the things we picked up in Luscious Cave?” she glanced at Winnie, “You know, since that was our plan originally.”

“Alright,” Winnie laughed, “But I don’t know how much we can sell all these berries for.”

Soon, the trio was walking down the path, Harper in the lead, while Winnie and Cassander chatted behind her. They sounded happy. The knot of guilt in Harper’s gut tightened. It was the best thing, really, for Harper to return Cassander home, and to leave Winnie with her. Lyre was bound to return there at some point, and it wouldn’t hurt Cassander to have to return home before leaving again. Maybe, someone would come with her when she left again. And, with a pang, Harper remembered how Winnie would be better off without her anyways.

As the sun met the midpoint of the sky, Lavastone village came into view. While Harper had made the journey in silence, a few steps ahead of her companions, Winnie and Cassander hardly seemed to take a breath between sentences.

“So, you don’t go to school, then?” Winnie asked.

“No, no one I know does.” Cassander replied, voice as soft as the rustle of the leaves, “I think only big towns have those.”

“Wow!” Winnie’s voice was incredulous, as if the idea of not every Pokemon attending school was foreign to them, “Then how do you learn, like, math and stuff?”

Harper glanced back and caught the puzzled look on Cassander’s face, and before she could speak, cleared her throat.

“We’re nearly there,” she pointed towards the town ahead, “I’ll handle selling stuff. Winnie, you and Cassander should wait in the town center.”

“Aw, okay,” Winnie nodded at her with a smile, “You hungry, Cass? I’ve got some berries we can snack on while we wait.”

Harper left the pair in the same spot she and Winnie had stood the day before. At the sight of their comfortable, happy conversation, she felt an unbidden sense of jealousy. How ridiculous, she thought to herself. What kind of ‘mon gets jealous of a child?

After nearly an hour of negotiations of varying success and awkward stammerings, Harper’s bag was less than half as heavy as before, and now had a wad of money tightly tucked inside. As she made her way back to the others, she couldn’t help but wish Winnie had been with her. She got the distinct feeling if someone more confident had done the talking, she would have a lot more money to show.

“Harper!” Winnie spotted her almost the moment she stepped foot into the square, “We were wondering where you were.”

“It took a bit to sell everything,” Harper hopped over to her, “Here’s what we have.” She shoved the wad of money towards Winnie.

“Woah, that’s a lot!” they exclaimed, eyes wide, “How much is this?”

“Around 3000(p), sorry,” Harper said, uncomfortably aware of Cassander watching her with rapt interest, “It’s not a lot, but it should do for tonight.”

“Seems like a lot to me!” Winnie shrugged, “More than what I made, y’know, before.” They gestured vaguely, unaware of Cassander, who tilted her head at them, a familiar expression of confusion on her face.

“We should go buy stuff now!” Harper said, perhaps too loudly, drowning out whatever question Cassander asked. “We still have a long walk to Lonesome Quarry!”

This time, she brought Winnie and Cassander with her to the vendor’s area. The way the two regarded each mundane purchase with childlike wonder was somewhat infectious. Before Harper knew it, she chatted amicably with them, almost forgetting her anxiety.

“We’re down to 500(p) already?” Cassander stared at the much smaller pile of coins, eyes wide. The trio had decided to count up what the had left, and sort out the items amongst themselves. Harper and Winnie’s bags bulged comfortably with berries and food, and they had even managed to get a discount on a couple of elixirs.

“Around 435, actually,” Harper said, “But I think we’ve gotten everything we need, at least for now.”

“Does that mean we can buy whatever we want now?” Winnie asked, eyes wide. Harper began to protest, but when she caught sight of Winnie’s pleading stare, and the hopeful gleam in Cassander’s eyes, she sighed.

“I guess so?”

With a hoot of joy, Winnie grabbed her shoulder and dragged her towards the nearest vendor, Cassander on their heels. They went from vendor to vendor, browsing TMs and berries and accessories, and despite herself, Harper found that she was having fun. Winnie didn’t seem to care that 435(p) wasn’t enough to buy anything cool. It seemed like they just enjoyed the possibility of buying something fun. Cassander was happy, too. Though she was quiet, her excitement was plain to see, and she even made a few bashful attempts at conversation with Harper.

Soon, the group retreated to an empty corner of the market, clutching a paper bag with fresh-baked cookies. Winnie passed them out, and with no more than a second’s hesitation, shoved theirs into their mouth.

“Ooh, this is good!” they exclaimed, “What kind is it?”

“Pecha and oran chips, I think,” Harper said. She gave hers a doubtful sniff, and then shook her head. “I don’t really want mine, though. I don’t like pecha.”

Cassander mumbled something inaudible.

“Yeah?” Harper looked over to see the child still holding her cookie between two paws.

“Um...we can trade, if you want,” Cassander said, louder this time, “Mine just has oran on it.”

“Oh,” Harper blinked, somewhat taken aback, “That’s really nice of you, t-thanks.”

The group lapsed into silence. As she ate, Harper couldn’t help but examine the strange child in front of them. She looked like her brother, with her long, sharp muzzle, and her olive green eyes, but the two couldn’t be more different. Lyre wasn’t this quiet, or this thoughtful, or this kind. Cassander didn’t know her, though. If she did, she’d probably hate her just as much as Lyre did. Harper grimaced, her appetite gone.

“How long is it to Lonesome Quarry?” Winnie broke the silence, swiping the crumbs from their scarf. “Will we need to make camp?”

“Err…” Harper’s heart skipped a beat, “Let me check.”

She pulled out the map once again, and held it close to her face. Lonesome Quarry was listed with 13 floors, and was only a mile or so away. If they left now, they would be at Wisteria in less than five hours.

“What’s the matter?” Winnie must have noticed her change in attitude, and laid a hoof on Harper’s feathered shoulder.

“N-nothing!” Harper crumpled the map, forcing a toothy grin. “I just realized, uh, it’s going to take until nightfall to get there!” She shoved the map into her bag, and when only half of it would fit, gave up and looked at her companions. “W-we should hang around, leave early tomorrow morning. Then we can, um, get to Bounty’s Keep tomorrow evening!”

“Oh…” Cassander nodded, her ears drooping a little. “I didn’t know it would take so long. My brother never acted like it did”

“Well, it does,” Harper looked away from the Eevee’s disappointed stare, “We can stay at the Lavafill Inn again, if that’s okay?” She looked at Winnie, who shrugged after a moment.

“Better than sleeping in the forest again,” they replied.

“Let’s go ahead and book the room, then!” Harper didn’t give them time to protest.

The innkeeper didn’t seem at all interested in why Harper was now accompanied by a child. She simply pointed Winnie to the same room key as before, and soon, the group had made themselves comfortable in their temporary room.

“Huff!” Winnie dropped back to the ground, having finally managed to hook their scarf to the highest rung on the rack. Their wool flared around them, soft and bouncy. It was only when they turned to look at her that Harper realized she’d been staring.

“Man, there must be some tall Pokemon out there!” Winnie exclaimed.

“My friend Pearlie’s mom is tall,” Cassander replied, “She’s a Samurott.”

“Huh,” Winnie nodded, “Haven’t seen one of those before.”

“Wow, really?” Cassander exclaimed, eyes wide, “There’s tons of Samurotts around here!”

Before the conversation could continue, Harper cleared her throat.

“I’m gonna go sit outside for a bit,” she said quickly, “It’s, uh kinda hot in here.”

Harper dropped her treasure bag on the ground near the window. As she passed Winnie and Cassander, she felt something soft against her wing.

“You okay?” Winnie’s eyes were round with concern, “You’re acting kinda weird.”

“I’m fine, don’t worry!” she squawked, “Just tired, is all.”

The door swung shut as she stepped out into the hall. Confident now that no one would follow, she slumped against the wall and heaved a sigh. What was she thinking? It was bad enough that she was going to ditch them, what was the use in lying now? She trudged down to the lobby, past the baleful gaze of Ms.Marcargo at the counter, and out the door. The air outside was cool, and to Harper’s surprise, it seemed like the sun was already setting. The sky was shot through with streaks of purple and pink, and the sun sunk orange beneath the treeline.

“What am I doing?” she muttered, “Should’ve just left the kid in that Arceus-forsaken forest.”

She nearly jumped out of her feathers when the door swung open behind her. With a squawk of surprise, she turned to see a grinning Winnie and a wide-eyed Cassander in the doorway. Harper’s bag swung on Winnie’s shoulder.

“W-what’s up?” she asked.

“I just realized, Cass doesn’t have anything to carry her stuff with!” Winnie replied. “Will the leftover money be enough to buy a bag?”

“Should be?” Harper replied, “If you want to use it, you can, I guess, but-”

“Great!” Winnie skipped in place, then seized Harper in a fierce hug. “Thanks!”

Beak burning and feathers rustling, Harper pulled away from the hug with a nervous laugh. “No problem!”

“T-thank you, Harper,” Cassander spoke softly, shuffling her paws, “Thanks for helping me and buying me stuff.” The Eevee’s shy, nervous smile only made Harper feel more guilty.

She watched the two take off down the path, and her gut twisted. The best thing for all of them was for Harper to leave them in Wisteria. Then, she could just worry about herself again.

#tcoe #the course of everything #tcoechapter #harper #winnie #cassander #pokemon #pmd #pokemon mystery dungeon #pmd fanfiction #fanfiction #archen #whismicott #eevee

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ducclord-archived · 5 years

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The Woolyne group has a new prompt up and I’m!! Excited as heck!!! Here’s the first part where Lycra is in search for some help! Story under the read more!

"Land ho!"

Donovan looks out to the island his ship is approaching. Caspian rushes to the side, onto the fence and holding on to the ropes so he wouldn't slip.

The sound of the sea and loud cawing of seagulls almost drowned Caspian's voice, "Is that Corwyn, Captain?"

Donovan nodded, "Aye! We're stopping here a bit to stock up on food and med kits for our next adventure!"

"Hah, you mean you just wanna treasure hunt around the area!" Teased Caspian. Donovan simply laughed. "You know me too well, Cassie!"

Caspian drops from the fence and heads back to the deck and continued to clean up. Donovan walked over to the same spot where Caspian stood, looking out to the sea. He hasn't visited Corwyn is a while, he wonders how Bonnie and her skippers are doing. Donovan could go on with his train of thought but something tickles his whiskers. The sea of Corwyn was acting odd.

For one thing, there's an awful amount of seagulls so far out from the coast and they're louder than usual. Something weird is going on to rile up the birds so much. He held up his paw to the sky, tapping into his lightning lyss to see if he could detect anything.

The ship then rocks hard. Donovan held on to the fence and clutched his hat close. Did Donovan's ship just got breached? Donovan looks over the fence to the sea. Nothing. In fact, he still has quite a distance from port.

Caspian came running up back to the bow "What in the world was that?" Donovan looked hard into the sea, "I-” He could see ripples and dark blobs but that could just be a shark or a really big fish. He turned to face Caspian, "-I don't know..."

They both share a worried look but Donovan shook his off quick. "Whatever it is, I don't think it harmed the ol' gal much." Caspian was skeptical, he thinks Donovan might know something, but a reassuring pat from Donovan made him drop the subject.

Before Caspian went down again, he asked, "...Shall I give the ship a boost, sir?" Donovan gave it a thought. He shook his head, "There's no need, Caspian. We're close to port anyway." Caspian stared back and grunted a quick reply. "I'll check below for any holes then, Cap." With that, Caspian disappeared under the ship. Donovan sighed heavily. He looked down his paw and found a small scar on his paw pads. It glowed faintly and stings with every touch.

Donovan believes whatever is causing a ruckus to the birds have something to do with magic. A smirk crept up his face. He smells an adventure awaits for him in Corwyn.

The Undying Star docks in Corwyn's port. Donovan looks around the port. Familiar ships were docked, which is a nice thing for him. He could go around asking them for their experience when they traveled to Corwyn.

Caspian unloads a few chests off of the ship. He smacks a brown chest with golden filigree, "Hey Cap, I'll sell off this beaut to the shops, yea?"

"Make sure you don't sell less like last time!" Caspian threw his hands up on the air, "YOU PROMISED NOT TO BRING IT BACK!" Donovan laughed at his first mate's antics.

As Caspian drags a bunch of chests to the shops, Donovan catches a glimpse of someone familiar. Chipped ear, shark tail and jacked arms with scars could only be...

"Bonnie!"

The shark-like woolie looked around and turned to Donovan's voice. As Donovan came up to her, she gave him her toothy smile, "Donnie! Long time no see!" Donovan gave her hand a shake but she pulls him into a side hug. She pats him hard on his back, "Well, look at you with your fancy feather hat!" Donovan laughed. It has been a long time since he saw Bonnie. Last time he saw her was before he left back to Lornesse with his family after they got themselves a family Selpie. He remembered how he and Bonnie bonded over their love of Selpies.

The two chatted up on their life. Bonnie wanted Donovan meet a few of her new skippers. Donovan is very, very, tempted to get a selpie of his own and Bonnie is not helping with all her sweet temptations. He nudged her playfully, "You and your skippers, you know how I'm weak to those fellas!" As Bonnie brings Donovan to her beach where she herds the Selpies, that odd tickling feeling kept bugging Donovan. He couldn't even focus in playing with the selpies. Whatever is out in the ocean, it's calling out to him.

Every now and then, Donovan glances at the sea. No thunder clouds in sight, yet he feels it in his fur. He didn't realised he was walking straight into the pool. "Oi! Watch where you're going," Bonnie's gruff voice shouted from the distance. She came up to him and helped Donovan up. "You're a bit out of loop today, something bothering you?"

Donovan straightened his wet coat, "There is, actually." Bonnie cocked her head to the side. Donovan gestured to the sea, "Don't you feel something's up with the ocean?"

Bonnie looks out. The waves crashed gently to the shore. Seems like nothing was out of the ordinary and yet Bonnie nodded. "You're not wrong." They both continued their walk to Bonnie's selpie farm, "It has been like this for a few days now. My skippers are getting restless over it."

"So you don't know anything?"

She shook her head.

Donovan sighed, "Ah, I see."

"You know something though, don't you?" Bonnie raised a questioning brow at Donovan. He gave her a shrug, "I have theories, but I can't really say for certain." She pulled a chair nearby and sat, arms crossed. "Well I don't mind hearing it out."

Donovan scratched the back of his head, "Well, from my very short experience, I think it has something to do with lyss." Bonnie scrunched up her face, "Lyss? Are you sure?"

"Yes." Donovan walks up to Bonnie, "I work with lightning, they don't hurt me."He opened up his palm, where the cut have left a mark. "Yet when I tried to tap my lyss, it actually hurts me." Bonnie gave Donovan's hand a thorough look. It was a small cut, but it stings whenever Bonnie touched it.

"It could be the work of lyss," she lets go of Donovan's hand, "or it could just be you being clumsy." Donovan looked betrayed. "Me? Clumsy? Bonnie, you know that I haven't been a total klutz in years now!"

She smirked at Donovan, "Sure, you haven't been a klutz, Donnie." Donovan jabs her playfully. Bonnie gave a hearty laugh, but when things quite down again, she turned serious once more. "Are you sure it's lyss, Donovan?"

"Well actually, it's more wild lyss to be honest with you all."

Donovan didn't answer that. The two of them stood their ground and looked around to find the source of the voice. From under the waters, an orange woolyne with fins emerged. They had fins running from their head to their back. What shocks Donovan most, however, is the fact that the woolyne in question had a fish tail for legs. Donovan have never seen anything like them.

"You're a Seatouched," says Bonnie.

"Yes, I am." The orange woolyne swims closer to shore, where their tail turns to hooves. Donovan might be hanging his jaw right now.

The woolyne coughed, "I should probably introduce myself." They held out their hand to shake, "Hi, my name's Lycra. I'm from the underwater city of Lathule and I need your help." Donovan would probably still be dropping his jaw had Bonnie not nudged him. He scrambled to shake Lycra's hand. "Hey, I'm Donovan, this is Bonnie. What do you mean by wild lyss and why do you need our help?"

"Ah, straight to the point I see!" He points out to the sea, where a bunch of seagulls fly over a specific spot. "Beneath the waves, my city is under attack by rampant wild lyss."

"It's wrecking havoc, creating golems made of corals and kelps, and attacking my people." Donovan and Bonnie looked at each other. "That's really bad but... how are we supposed to help with that?" Donovan asked.

Lycra looks into the ocean, "There's a magic conch shell that can help contain the abundant of lyss." A sad look came across his face, "But it's hidden deep within a mythical temple and-"

He couldn't finish his words because Donovan cuts him off, "Mythical temple you say?" He walked closer to the orange woolyne, his eyes sparkling, "With treasures hidden deep within it?" Lycra feels awkward with Donovan being so close to him but he nodded, "Uhhh, yes?"

Donovan dramatically turns towards Bonnie, "Sorry to cut our outing short, Bonnie but adventure calls." Bonnie crossed her arms, "That's great and all, but how do you plan on going in an underwater temple, Donnie?"

Donovan pointed at Bonnie to answer, but no words came out. He scrunched up his face to think and realised Bonnie's right. How would Donovan ever go into a temple deep in the ocean long enough to not drown. His ears drooped and Donovan looked sadly at Lycra. However, Lycra waved away Bonnie's comment, "That's easy! With this overabundance of lyss, I can turn you into a Seatouched!"

Donovan's ears perked up again. He's going on an adventure! He's going to go underwater! He grabs hold of Lycra's shoulders and shook him excitedly, "That's wonderful! My good friend, I'll help you out and find that magic conch!" Donovan then gasped in realisation, "We'll have to bring Caspian along!" He then drags the orange woolyne on the way back to port, but not without bidding goodbye to Bonnie.

Bonnie simply shook her head and waved back as she watched Donovan drag the poor Seatouched woolyne.

#me me me #woolynes #fic #closed species #ducky oc #caspian #donovan #literature #writing #sea #port #deck #ship

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danfanciesphil · 6 years

Text

Phan Teacher AU (Part 4)

(Part One)

(Part Two)

(Part Three)

This is all Mr Horowitz’s fault.

Okay, so it’s also a little bit Dan’s fault for forgetting to bring an umbrella, or even a sensible coat, but in his defence, he had no idea this would happen.

Normally, Dan’s walk to the bus stop after school is little more than two minutes, and so far he has always made it in time to catch the 3:17 bus. It’s a good thing too, because Dan knows that the next one doesn’t come for another hour.

He’d been on his way to catch this same bus, in fact, when Mr Horowitz caught his arm, asking whether, before he left, he’d just run upstairs to the labs and clear up the experiment from the last class. Dan, being the school’s servant boy, couldn’t exactly refuse. He’d raced up to the labs at just after 3pm, cleared the desks in lightning speed, run a broom over the floor and sprinted to the bus stop.

But alas, the sight with which he was greeted was the tail end of it, chugging into the distance as the rain pelted down.

So now, Dan is stood, shivering like mad, in the downpour. It’s currently 3:30pm, and he still has another 47 minutes before the next bus.

“Fuck you, Horowitz,” Dan mutters under his breath, which comes out in a silvery puff of steam.

He wraps his thin jacket around himself a little tighter, rocking on the balls of his feet. Students keep passing him by, some sending sympathetic looks, and some chuckling at his plight. Dan knows he must look an absolute sight; his hair is probably plastered to his head, and his smart shirt and skinny jeans are so drenched that they’d fill a few jugs if they were wrung out, he’s sure.

“Wanna use my Physics textbook as an umbrella, sir?” A Year 11 student Dan vaguely recognises calls out as they walk past, laughing.

Dan shakes his head with a grim smile. “No thanks,” He replies, as tactfully as he can bring himself to be.

It’s at this moment that a car pulls up to the bus stop, pausing right beside where Dan is stood.

The window rolls down, and Dan’s immediate instinct is to run away - a product of the copious amount of ‘stranger danger’ warnings instilled into him during his teacher training.

Then, the driver of the vehicle leans across the passenger seat, and Dan nearly wails. It’s Phil. Of course it’s Phil.

“Hey!” Phil says, a glimmer of amusement in his cobalt eyes. “Need a lift?”

Trying his best not to think about the fact that he looks the worst he ever has, Dan forces a tight smile, leaning towards the open window.

“Hey, hah- yeah, I didn’t exactly prepare for the weather today.” Dan says, chuckling at himself. “But it’s okay. Thanks for the offer but I live really far away. I’ll just get the next bus.”

“When’s the next bus?” Phil asks.

A car behind him slows to a stop, unable to get past. Dan glances up at it worriedly. The driver, an older man in a suit, looks impatient.

“Um, in forty-five minutes. Ish.”

Phil’s eyes widen, his mouth falling open. “What?! You’re planning to wait here in the rain for that long?”

Dan tries to give Phil a bright smile, like he’s fine with it, but a raindrop falls from his forehead into his eye, making him wince.

“Y-yeah, it’s okay, I’m-” Dan cuts himself as a sneeze surges up out of nowhere; he just about manages to turn away, aiming it into the crook of his elbow.

When he looks back up at Phil, he does not look pleased. “Dan,” he says, his voice dropping to his firm, teacher tone. “Get in the car.”

Partly because the gentleman behind Phil has begun honking his horn, and partly because his knees have jellified at the sound of Phil speaking to him this way, Dan pulls open Phil’s passenger door and climbs in.

It’s so warm inside that he could cry.

“I’m gonna get your seats all wet.” Dan says mournfully, trying to take up as little space as he can.

“They’ll dry.” Phil tells him, turning the heater up until it’s blasting over Dan’s face and chest. “There are more important things than courtesy, you know Dan.”

Dan turns to him, trying to work out whether Phil’s annoyed. He watches silently as Phil pulls away from the kerb, joining the thick muddle of after-school traffic inching its way towards the main road.

“My mum raised me to be a polite young man,” Dan jokes, trying to lighten the mood.

“My mum raised me not to put my health in danger for the sake of asking a friend for a lift once in a while,” Phil replies, looking over at Dan. The windscreen wipers squeak as they battle the awful weather. After a moment, Phil sighs, his expression softening. “Sorry, I don’t mean to have a go at you. But come and find me if you miss your bus again, okay? I’d rather drive a bit out of my way today than have you turn up tomorrow with pneumonia.”

Dan nods guiltily. “Wait till you see how far away I live before you get too generous.”

“Wow,” Phil whistles, eyebrows raised as he stares down at Google Maps on his phone. “You weren’t kidding.”

They’ve pulled into a layby, the rain still thundering against the glass. It doesn’t matter though, because Phil’s car is warm and dry. It’s littered with little plastic toys, highlighting Phil’s quirkier side. There are Marvel superhero bobble-heads blu-tacked onto the dashboard, and the cupholders are filled with keyrings that look like they were won out of those two-penny slot machines.

There are also sweet wrappers scattered around - skittles, starburst, pick ‘n’ mix, or anything sugary and colourful.

None of it seems anything other than incredibly endearing, though. Dan could spend hours rifling through this car, which is so intrinsically Phil, just learning about him through his clutter.

“Yeah,” Dan says awkwardly. “It’s a forty minute bus ride.”

“You do that every day?” Phil asks, looking up at him in wonder. “Twice a day?”

Dan shrugs. “It’s not that bad.”

It would be a lot worse if he had nothing to look forward to once he actually got to the school, Dan thinks privately.

“Um, don’t worry about taking me all the way,” Dan says quickly, “just drop me at another bus stop or something on your way home-”

Phil flaps a hand at him distractedly, turning back to his phone. He pinches the map, searching the screen for a route to take.

“No, no, I don’t mind taking you,” Phil says, chewing his lip. He looks up, out of the windscreen, appearing to have some sort of internal debate. “It’s just... well, do you mind if we make a stop?”

Dan blinks at him.

“Uh, a stop?” He asks, uncomprehending.

“Yeah,” Phil replies. “It’s just that I need to let my dog out. Would you mind if we stopped at mine on the way? I’ll take you straight home after.”

Dan pauses for a moment, the words not sinking in straight away. Phil wants to take him to his house, where he actually lives, and he’s asking if that would be a problem.

“Phil, you’re literally rescuing me from a storm,” Dan says slowly, watching the bashful smile spread over Phil’s gorgeous features. “You could drive me via the Eiffel Tower if you wanted.”

Phil grins at him, putting his phone down and releasing the handbrake. “Maybe we should save the Eiffel Tower for another time.” Phil side-eyes him, questioningly. “Like in two weeks?”

Dan’s already racing heart picks up a little more speed, the fact that he is currently en route to Phil’s actual house beginning to seep into reality. He laughs, feeling awkward about what Phil is implying.

“Yeah, I still haven’t decided whether I’m coming on the trip yet,” Dan says, hands clasping together in his damp lap.

“You know it’s free for teachers, right?”

“I’m not a teacher.”

Phil smirks. “I’m sure I can persuade John to let you in free of charge.”

“Who?” Dan asks.

“John. Mr Green.” Phil clarifies; Dan just stares blankly. “Vice Principal of the school?”

“Oh,” Dan says, vaguely remembering a ‘VP Green’ showing him round on his first day. “I haven’t seen him since I first started. Sorry.”

“Well, he’s coming on the trip.” Phil tells him. “So, that’s a perfect opportunity to get to know him better.”

“Right, because having an awkward conversation in Paris with the Vice Principal of a school I’m heavily under-qualified to work at is top of my to-do list.”

Phil laughs heartily, pulling off the main road into a suburban maze of small houses. They can’t be more than ten minutes from the school. Dan gazes out of his rain-speckled window at the idyllic neighbourhood, trying not to be too obvious about how badly he wants to soak it all in.

“You’re not under-qualified.” Phil says, leaving no room for argument. You’re one of the best TA’s I’ve ever had.”

Dan stays quiet in the face of this statement, not sure how to handle it.

“Besides,” Phil continues, to Dan’s relief. “John’s actually a pretty cool guy,”

As it has rather often since the film screening on Wednesday, Dan’s mind wanders to thoughts of Paris, of being there with Phil and the rest of the Year Nine class. In his current state of awkward, socially inept pining over the class’ teacher, Dan’s not sure he’d be able to handle the experience.

Yes, it would be an amazing opportunity, and undoubtedly fun at times. But the class already tease Dan, sensing his overly-fond opinion of their favourite teacher despite him trying to keep it under control. It’s hard to imagine an entire weekend of that, in the so-called ‘city of love’, whilst attempting at least a shade of professionalism.

Not to mention how uncomfortable the whole thing could make Phil.

“But I don’t wanna pressure you.” Phil says, interrupting Dan’s tumultuous thoughts. “I just think it’d be fun if you came.”

Before Dan can properly comprehend that statement, let alone reply to it, Phil is pulling the car over and switching off the engine.

They’re parked in the middle of a quiet, orderly street, right outside a cute little bungalow, complete with a neat front garden and little pathway to the front door.

“You live here?” Dan asks, awed by how... lovely it is.

Phil chuckles, unbuckling his seatbelt. “No Dan, I brought you to someone else’s house and we’re going to break in.”

Dan turns to narrow his eyes at Phil, who just laughs more.

“Come on, let’s get inside - it’s still belting down.” Phil says, unfastening Dan’s seatbelt before he gets the chance.

Dan takes a deep breath in a vain attempt to prepare himself for what’s about to happen, and follows Phil as he hops out of the car, and jogs to the front door.

If Phil’s car is telling of his personality, his house is as though he’d cracked open his chest, scooped handfuls of his soul out and splattered it all over the walls.

Dan has never seen any sort of interior design that represented a person so well before. It’s not just visually appealing, it’s also a spectacle to behold. Dan’s sure that by just opening one random drawer in Phil’s house and glancing at the contents, he’d understand a thousand more things about this man, strange and enigmatic as he is.

They enter into a small entrance hall, painted a sunny yellow. There’s a semi-circular welcome mat on the floor, made to look like half a pepperoni pizza. On one wall hangs a large mirror, in a bizarre, warped shape, the edges curved as though they’d been drawn by a child.

There’s a tall cheese plant in one corner, and on a table below the mirror sits a potted scarlet anthurium. It’s a colourful room, and Dan’s very aware that this is only the very entrance of Phil’s house.

Before Dan can comment on the aesthetics - which he greatly appreciates, having lived in a cheap, falling apart, ‘student house’ for some time now - a small creature tears through the doorway on the left, bounding towards them, barking shrilly.

Phil crouches down to greet it, gathering the bundle of excitable fur into his arms immediately, laughing. Mouth falling open in an adoring ‘o’, Dan drops to the floor instinctively, an overwhelming urge to pet this animal forcing him to its level.

“Dan,” Phil chuckles, receiving several licks to his face. “This is Buffy.”

It lets out a ‘ruff!’ upon hearing its name, turning to Dan, tongue hanging out as it surveys him. In a millisecond, the dog is wriggling in Phil’s arms, struggling to be free. It worms its way out of Phil’s grip in a second, leaping across to Dan’s lap, tail wagging excitedly.

“Oh my God,” Dan says, cuddling the dog close to himself as he strokes and scritches and pets its soft, caramel fur. “This is the cutest dog I’ve ever seen in my life. What breed is it?”

“She’s a paperanian,” Phil says, moving to sit cross-legged on the floor. He laughs as Buffy begins frantically licking at Dan’s face, front paws on his chest as she attempts to reach him. “A pomeranian-papillon mix.”

Phil strokes along her back, fondly, his hand occasionally brushing across Dan’s.

Dan is giggling into the shock of Buffy’s fur, relishing the adorable, happy temperament of this dog. His only family dog had been a springer-spaniel when he was young, and it had died before he’d had a chance to bond with it properly.

“Unff-” Dan says, voice muffled as Buffy licks eagerly at his chin. “How long’ve you had her?”

“About a year and a half?” Phil replies, smiling warmly. “I used to volunteer at a shelter when I lived in France. I didn’t mean to get attached, but I couldn’t help it. So I adopted her.”

“She’s adorable,” Dan says, stroking over her soft, pointed ears as she begins to calm down, happily settled in Dan’s lap. “I think I’m in love.”

Phil glances up at Dan, eyebrow raised. For some reason, Dan finds himself blushing. “I get it.” Phil replies. “I fell in love on sight.”

Dan holds Phil’s gaze for a moment, any responses getting caught in his throat. Buffy barks, stealing their attention, and Phil giggles at her. He stands, scooping her up from Dan’s lap and into his arms.

Dan tries not to pout about this.

“Come on, then,” Phil says, presumably to the dog, “I’ll let you out for a bit.”

Dan stands too, following Phil through his hallway and into the room on the left.

Again, he is struck by the amazing decor of the room in which he enters, which seems to be a spacious living area, but he barely has time to appreciate it before Phil is heading into the kitchen at the other end, Buffy still tucked in the crook of his arm.

At the back of the kitchen there’s a glass sliding door, leading to what appears to be a tiny back garden, surrounded by a tall wooden fence. It’s through here that Phil lets Buffy out, barking happily as she scampers across the wet grass, not bothered by the rain in the slightest.

Phil slides the door shut after her, turning to Dan with a smile. “I’ll just let her run around for a bit. She’s been cooped up all day.”

“I guess you have to leave her here while you’re at school?”

“Yeah,” Phil replies guiltily. “It’s not as bad as some jobs, because I can let her out in the morning, and then I finish quite early in the day, but I still feel bad.”

“I’m sure she’s used to it.” Dan says, trying to make a positive comment.

“Yeah, I suppose.” Phil says. “If I ever have to stay late, I can call my brother to come and check on her. He lives just down the road.”

“That’s convenient, at least.”

Phil shrugs, turning to his kitchen counter and retrieving the bright red kettle.

“It’s not perfect, but it works okay.” Phil says. “Anyway, I’m rarely away from home. It’s not every day I have to rescue damoiseau’s in distress caught in rainstorms because they missed their bus.” Phil winks at him; along with the casual french he dropped into the sentence, it makes Dan feel a little dazed.

“Do you want a cup of tea while she runs about for a bit?” Phil asks.

Dan feels his heart flutter, and wonders whether any of the other TA’s have ever had the honour of coming here, of meeting Phil’s dog and receiving hot beverages on rainy days.

“That’d be great, thanks.” Dan answers quietly, still feeling like an inconvenience.

As Phil fills the kettle and gets the mugs, Dan takes the opportunity to look around his kitchen. It’s beautiful, just like the rest of the house, but with a few youthful, quirky touches that indicate Phil’s sillier side.

The walls are cream, as are the countertops, but there are splashes of colour everywhere. The microwave is bright yellow, and there are a host of tiny herb plants in red, green, blue and orange pots atop the windowsill.

Phil’s fridge is a light blue, and around his light wooden table, the chairs are varying sizes and colours, mismatched, but in a way that seems put together.

“It’s so homely in here,” Dan muses, not really meaning to say it aloud.

Phil turns to him, evidently surprised. “Thanks! Most people say it’s a bit much.” He pours the boiling water into the mugs, chuckling. “My brother said that it’s as if I gathered a random load of furniture and scattered it about without thinking.”

“Did you?”

“Kind of, I suppose.” Phil allows, shrugging one shoulder. “I just pick up bits and pieces that I like the look of, and fit them in as best I can.” He laughs, opening his sky-blue fridge to get the milk. “I don’t pretend to be an expert in interior design. I just like things to be...”

“Pretty?” Dan supplies.

“I was gonna say colourful,” Phil says, smiling at him. “But yeah, I suppose. Thanks.”

Dan blushes faintly, casting another look around. He notices for the first time that Phil’s fridge door is covered in those alphabet magnets, some of which spell out the phrase ‘normalness leads to sadness’. There’s also a photo pinned there, of Phil and a man Dan vaguely recognises as his brother. He’s holding Buffy in his arms, smiling a very Phil-like smile.

“Milk? Sugar?” Phil asks, tearing Dan’s attention away.

“Just milk, thanks.”

Phil pours the milk, humming to himself, and adds two lumps of sugar to his own cup from a gnome-shaped pot nearby. He places the mugs down on the table, and pulls out a chair.

“You can sit down, you know,” Phil tells Dan amusedly, slipping into one of the seats.

Dan obeys, sliding into the chair opposite him and retrieving his mug. “Thanks.”

He sips, even though it’s far too hot, trying to think past his nerves, for something, anything, to say that isn’t ‘wow you’re pretty and your house is pretty and your dog is the cutest thing in the world and I think I’m crushing on you far, far too much to even be here let alone go to Paris with you in two weeks’. He comes up blank.

Then, quite unexpectedly, Phil reaches across the table, and pushes a strand of his fringe away from his eye, a slight smile playing on his lips. Dan freezes, a deer in headlights, as Phil’s fingertips brush his forehead, acutely aware of how damp he is still.

“Your hair,” Phil says softly, wonderingly. “It’s curly.”

Dan blushes furiously at once, ducking away from Phil’s touch, feeling self-conscious. “Shit, yeah. The rain, y’know...”

Phil draws his hand back to his mug, smiling amusedly. “It’s cute.”

Dan looks at him in surprise. He’s never, in a million years, considered the idea that anybody might find his natural, untameable curls anything other than ridiculous, but all of a sudden he has a powerful urge to never touch a pair of straighteners again.

Dan lifts his hand to his head, patting the mess of curls that are drying there.

“I... never really liked them.” He admits, sheepish.

“You should embrace them,” Phil says encouragingly. He shrugs one shoulder. “I mean, if you want. I think they suit you. But then, it’s not my hair.”

All of a sudden, Dan shivers, partly because he’s wet and cold, but mostly because Phil is being so sweet that his body actually seems to be rejecting the sentiment, not sure how else to process it.

Phil frowns, noticing the tremble. “Hey, take that off.”

He gestures to Dan’s torso, standing from the chair. Dan just looks, bewildered, at Phil’s outstretched hand.

“Um...”

“Your jacket, Dan.” Phil says, the corner of his mouth twitching. “I’ll throw it in the dryer.”

“Oh, no it’s okay-”

“Dan, you’re actually shivering.” Phil interrupts, voice firm. “I’ll just dry off your wet jacket, it’ll take ten minutes.”

“It’s warm in here, you really don’t have to.” Dan mumbles, but he’s already shaking the damn thing off his shoulders, because Phil is using his teacher-voice, and it’s drilling right into his chilly bones.

Phil just takes the jacket from him, opening a secret cupboard door under the kitchen counter to reveal a washer-dryer. He places Dan’s jacket inside, presses a few buttons, and smiles in satisfaction as the dryer begins its cycle.

He turns back to Dan, frowning again as he takes in the sight of him.

“Hey, drink your tea, it’ll warm you up.” Phil instructs, moving across the room, towards the doorway. “I’ll be right back.”

Dan doesn’t get a chance to object; Phil slips out of the room, leaving Dan sat at the table in just his damp, clinging, white shirt, hands clasped around the mug of tea.

Then, in a moment, he’s back again, a bundle of green material in one hand. He hands it to Dan casually, then moves to sit back in his seat.

“Um, what’s this?” Dan asks, confused. He turns the green item over in his hands carefully.

“A hoodie,” Phil says, like it’s perfectly normal. “You’re cold.”

Dan swallows, squeezing the material in his fist. It feels thick and warm. “Oh, th-thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Phil says, beaming. “Put it on, you’re not allowed to be cold in my house.”

“I didn’t realise you had such strict house rules,” Dan replies teasingly, but pulls the hoodie over his head, threading his arms through the sleeves.

It smells - oh, Lord - it smells just like him. It’s cinnamon sweet, with a fresh, plant-like overtone. A cooling, freshly baked apple pie on a windowsill, the breeze sweeping in its delicious aroma, carrying the notes of the newly cut spring grass.

Dan has to force himself not to bury his nose in the sleeves that hang down over his hands.

He tries to distract himself by looking down at the text on the front of it, which reads ‘York University’. “I see I’m repping your college.”

“Hah, yeah, sorry about that.” Phil says bashfully, sipping more tea. “I guess it’s a bit weird to hang onto that, isn’t it?”

Dan shrugs. “Not if you liked it.”

Phil smiles at him appreciatively. “I liked the uni, yeah. And I like the hoodie. I like it even better on you.”

Simply because Dan doesn’t trust himself to speak further about this without melting into a gooey puddle, he decides to change the subject.

“So, is it Buffy as in... the vampire slayer?”

He nods towards the screen door, through which Phil’s dog is sprinting happily across the grass, pausing every so often to sniff a patch, tail wagging furiously.

Phil turns to watch her for a moment, laughing. He nods, turning back to wink at Dan. “I mean, it is the greatest show of all time.”

Dan considers this, nodding. “It’s definitely up there.”

“You’ve seen it?” Phil asks, sounding surprised. “Not many people have, these days.”

“You spend too much time around teenagers.” Dan says with a wry smile. “The kids in your classes probably weren’t even born when Buffy was cool.”

Phil sighs, nodding in agreement. “You’re probably right.”

“Hey, it’s their loss.” Dan says. “They’ll never know the awesomeness that is Buffy Summers kicking kicking the ass of every monster that dares to cross her.”

“Or the incredible hotness of Spike,” Phil adds, somewhat wistfully.

“Spike over Angel? Interesting.”

“To be honest, if I were Buffy, I think I’d have a similarly hard time deciding between them.”

“Same,” Dan agrees, staring down into his tea.

“Hey, I forgot,” Phil announces suddenly, his voice bright and cheerful. “I made cupcakes! Would you like one?”

Dan watches as Phil stands from his chair, heading to a cupboard to pull out a cake tin.

“Um,” Dan says; his stomach is rumbling at the mere mention of food, let alone cake, but he wants to be careful about how far he should run with Phil’s generosity. In the end however, his tummy, which hasn’t been fed since lunch, makes the decision for him. “Sure. Thanks.”

Phil finds a small plate and presents Dan with one of the most incredible looking cakes he’s ever seen. Putting bakeries to shame, Phil has piped rainbow frosting atop a small, palm sized cake. He’s also sliced off the top of the cake, cut it in half, and pushed the pieces into the icing in a traditional ‘butterfly cake’ style.

The whole thing is covered in some kind of edible glitter too, making it sparkle under Phil’s soft, overhead lamps.

“Christ, you made this?” Dan asks, staring down at it in amazement. “I feel like I shouldn’t eat something this pretty.”

Phil chuckles. “It’s either going to you or Buffy, so eat up.”

Phil takes his seat again, and Dan diligently begins peeling the glittery pink case from the sides of the cupcake. He glances up at Phil, watching him, and pauses.

“You’re not having one?”

Phil shakes his head. “Trust me, I’ve had about sixty already since I made them. He leans back in his chair, placing a hand on his stomach. “I’m cupcake’d out.”

Dan’s eyes fall to the cake in his hand, feeling awkward about eating it now.

Phil laughs at him, and Dan looks up. “What?”

“Afraid I’m trying to poison you?”

Dan splutters, having not even thought of that. Realistically though, he perhaps should be a bit more concerned. He doesn’t know Phil that well, after all.

Playing along, Dan eyes the cake suspiciously, bringing it to his nose and sniffing. “Well, it is awfully convenient that you just had to let Buffy out whilst you already had me in your car...”

Phil rolls his eyes, smirking. Without a word, he leans forwards, plucks the cupcake from Dan’s hand, and brings it to his lips. He takes a small bite, frosting and all, licking glitter and crumbs from his lips as he holds Dan’s gaze.

He hands the cupcake back over, looking triumphant. “There. If it’s poisoned, then we’ll both die.”

“Finally,” Dan jokes, taking a bite out of the cupcake, heart palpitating over what just happened.

The cupcake is glorious. Dan shuts his eyes, moaning a little in appreciation. It tastes like strawberry laces, and vanilla ice cream, and pure, unfiltered joy. It tastes like how he imagine Phil himself would taste, were he smothered in frosting and had a surprise, raspberry jam centre.

“Fucking hell,” Dan says eloquently, diving straight back in for another bite. “Phil Lester, you’re a genius.”

In three bites, Dan has devoured the entire thing, and he licks the remnants off each of his fingers, wishing he could go back in time and experience that slice of heaven all over again.

When he eventually meets Phil’s gaze, he’s looking a little dazed. There’s a pink tint to his pale skin, resting just above his sharp cheekbones. Seeming to gather himself, Phil clears his throat, and adjusts his glasses, smiling.

“Glad you liked it,” Phil mumbles, busying himself by taking Dan’s plate to the sink.

“You should apply for Bake Off,” Dan says sincerely.

Phil laughs, rinsing the plate under the tap, faced away from him.

“Actually don’t,” Dan says, changing his mind. “Just bake for me, instead.”

Phil stacks the plate on a drying rack, turning back to him. He doesn’t sit back at the table, though. He just leans against the counter, watching Dan from afar.

“And what do I get out of that deal, Mr Howell?” Phil asks, raising an eyebrow.

“Literally whatever you want.” Dan replies, meaning every word.

“Careful,” Phil says, typically flirtatious, making Dan’s stomach flip. “Some people might take advantage of a promise like that.”

Dan just laughs, staying quiet. In his mind however, he silently comes to the realisation that he can’t think of a single thing that Phil could ask for, that he would refuse to do.

Oh, dear.

By the time they leave Phil’s house, the rain has eased to more of a drizzle, but it pours continuously nonetheless. Dan says goodbye to Buffy about five times, softened by her sad little whimpers and puppy eyes each time he turns to go.

He doesn’t mind that her fur is soaked and a little muddy, he just cuddles her close, no doubt ruining Phil’s hoodie, though Phil doesn’t object. He doesn’t even tell her off as she tracks damp pawprints through the kitchen, he just uses a spare towel to dry her off, giggling as she wriggles about beneath it.

“Aw, he’ll be back another time, Buffy,” Phil assures his whining dog, and secretly Dan bursts with happiness.

They get out of the door eventually, and into Phil’s car. Phil sticks the heating on straight away, blasting them both as they rub their hands together. Dan wishes it would be socially acceptable to lean across and nestle into Phil’s shoulder, but alas, he settles for simply wrapping the hoodie more tightly around himself, pretending it’s Phil’s arms.

“She loves you,” Phil says, laughing. “She’s not going to let me forget that, either.”

“What a shame,” Dan says, faking a dismayed sigh. “I guess I’ll just have to come and play with her all the time.”

Phil grins at him. “You should. Buffy would really like that.”

“Buffy would?” Dan asks, feeling just brave enough to attempt a flirtation, fuelled by the adrenaline his own body has been pumping through his veins for the past hour or so.

Phil just smiles at him, eyes holding Dan’s for a moment, seeming to forget about starting the car. “Yeah,” he says after a while. “She really would.”

It’s quite painful to watch Phil driving away.

It’s only been a couple of hours, but in the short time he and Phil spent together this afternoon, Dan had grown rather attached to his presence.

This whole crush-thing would be so much easier if Phil was a difficult person to hang out with. But it’s so easy. They fall into banter as quickly as breathing, their conversations lasting indefinitely, because they could spring off each other’s witticisms for hours on end.

Phil is so funny, and so effortlessly charming. He’s intelligent and sharp, which is attractive on its own, but he has such a flirtatious streak, and it only makes things worse.

The more time Dan spends around him, in fact, the more he feels himself falling into a deep cavern of yearning.

When Phil pulled up to Dan’s house, right before Dan got out, he handed Dan another one of his cupcakes, which he’d hidden in a little Tupperware box in the glove compartment, unbeknownst to Dan.

Dan had protested at first, saying he couldn’t possibly steal another of his incredible creations, but Phil insisted on him having it. Eventually, Dan managed to create a condition - that he owed Phil a favour, not only for the cupcake (and the other cupcake) but for the cup of tea, and introducing him to Buffy, and the kindness, and for literally rescuing him in his hour of need and driving him forty minutes across town to his house.

Phil laughed, but agreed to these terms. Dan had gone to leave his car then, cupcake in hand, but Phil had stopped him, saying he had an idea for how Dan could repay him.

Of course, he had to say Paris.

So, because he’s helpless to refuse Phil anyway, and because he owes Phil a lot, Dan agreed. So, in two weeks, he’s off to Paris, to spend an entire weekend with Phil, in the most romantic city in the world.

Yes, there will be twenty or more teenagers along for the ride, but Dan finds it difficult enough to keep it together in Phil’s presence as it is, even during class.

Forty-eight hours of uninterrupted time in close proximity to this man is going to render him as useless as a smitten nerd-girl in any teenage rom-com that’s existed since the beginning of time.

He sighs, watching from his doorway as Phil’s car rounds the corner, out of sight. He opens the Tupperware, and takes a bite of the delicious cake, sighing in defeat.

“Okay, who was that?” Tyler’s voice says from right by his shoulder, making Dan jump.

“Is that hot, French, teacher-guy?” Teddy interjects from further inside.

Dan rolls his eyes, turning to push past both of them as he stalks into the house. “Don’t you guys have anything better to do than spy on me?”

“Aw, Dan we just want to see you happy!” Tyler exclaims, following Dan into the kitchen.

He wraps his arms around Dan’s waist, walking behind him like a drunk mum too into the conga line, until they reach the counter.

Dan puts his half eaten cupcake back in its box, placing it on the counter.

“How do you know I’m not?” Dan asks crossly.

“I mean, you’re fine.” Teddy says, strolling into the kitchen to rest his arm on Dan’s shoulder. “But fine isn’t good enough for our lovely Daniel. We want to see you being adored!”

Teddy pinches Dan’s cheek, smiling at him. Tyler kisses him on the temple, ruffling his hair.

Dan rolls his eyes, but smiles a little under the affection. “Thanks, but I’m good.”

He struggles free of them, intending to take an immediate shower in order to wash the rainwater off himself. He heads for the door of the kitchen, mind already on other things.

Phil things.

Paris things.

“Hey, Dan?” Tyler calls out, sounding confused. Dan turns on the spot, somewhat reluctantly. “I thought you went to the University of Manchester?”

Dan frowns in confusion. “Ty, we all went to the same uni. We literally met at uni.”

Teddy hides a smirk in Tyler’s shoulder. “Right, right.” Tyler says. “So whose hoodie is that?”

Having completely forgotten he was even wearing the thing, Dan flushes bright red, stammering in place of a response. It’s an absurd reaction, obviously, but it sends the others into fits of laughter, and Dan instinctively knows they won’t let this go for weeks, no matter how much he tries to insist it was a purely platonic gesture on Phil’s part.

“I hate you both,” Dan groans, practically running out of the room.

He slams the door of the bathroom, switching on the shower, cheeks still flame-red in the mirror. He pauses, caught by the sight of his reflection, swathed in the emerald green of Phil’s hoodie.

He strokes the words on the front, feeling how they’re beginning to flake from multiple washes, and from the creases Phil has made as he moves around in this same garment, when it’s wrapped around him instead.

Dan lifts the sleeve to his nose, breathing in that delicious scent. The vanilla-strawberry cupcake still lingers on his tongue, making it that little bit sweeter.

He’ll return this hoodie, he tells himself, saving it until last as he strips off for the shower. But maybe he could forget for a few days. Or maybe he could say that he wanted to wait until the next time he’s in class with Phil, which isn’t until Monday now.

He places the hoodie carefully to one side, not wanting it to get wet, and hops in the shower. He lets his mind drift, skimming across memories of Phil’s touch against his forehead, the sound of the rain pattering against his screen door as the dog played outside, the low, fond tone of Phil’s voice from across the table, the flame of something vivacious dancing in his glacial eyes.

Paris, he decides, as the light trickles of warm water travel over his body, might not be so bad.

(Part 5!)

#phanfic #phan #teacher au #my fic #prompts

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