#to be fair i would fucking sleep as well they woke up at the asscrack of dawn (in several vlogs other cast members have said it was 3-5am)

[saint-magdalena]

Sat Aug 19 12:24

so i’ve been visiting my parents house for like a week or so and dear god i am so dreadfully bored. i yeah it’s been kinda fun catching up with all of the gossip but i guess is my depressed and low energy state for the past few years that there is literally nothing to do here. well unless you have friend or maybe like a social life. but back in the bigger city, i could just go for a walk outside and there would always be something to do—something to eat, something to watch, something interesting to gossip about later on. but anything interesting going on in this town might as well be in fucking space cause hell if i can reach it. the most interesting that i’ve seen al week is a construction guy’s asscrack outside the living room window. i should have left yesterday, but my mum won’t let me. i mean i kind of expected to stay a bit longer but i miss my boyfriend and lord, i am so fucking horny.

so since i’ve been gone, my boyfriend was stupid enough to volunteer to clean my place up, laundry and dirty dishes and everything. god i love that man. i didn’t even have to ask him for fuck’s sake, he just said that he would. i have no idea how i bagged him to be honest with you. i mean, i’m a mentally ill, lazy, spoiled, entitled bitch that hates men and for some fucking reason he fell in love with that person. i better not jinx it though, he’s not perfect either, but he’s pretty fucking good. might actually marry him, who knows.

so yeah, boring as shit over here on the other side of the country. i think i’ve watched more movies this week than i have in the entire year. to be fair, i’m not really much of a movie girl but i guess i am now. i watched two movies in a row today, that never fucking happens. one movie usually lasts me a good couple of days. mostly because i only watch movies when i eat with my boyfriend.

i finally got another month’s supply of antidepressants today thanks mum. i ran out of them a few days ago cause i spent the last of my money on a bus ticket and a couple of vapes. i didn’t really have any responsibilities lined up so it didn’t really hurt. yay.

on another note, i’m switching schools…again. it was kinda my fault for not checking my old school’s tuition before i dove in headfirst into enrollment. but holy shit it is expensive, like, i can’t afford fucking eggs expensive. and if i’m being honest it’s not even worth it. mostly you’re just paying for the clout. anyways, i found another school that’s pretty much exactly the same, and better, in some aspects for half the fucking price. less than half, actually. it’s a bit further away, but thank fuck for cheap public transport. i’m gonna have to wake up earlier than usual though, but if i schedule my classes late enough i should be fine. fuck 7 am classes.

okay one lesson that i’ve learned through the years is to absolutely never set up expectations. if you’re pretty and made up and a fucking smartass on the first day of school, you’re just gonna disappoint yourself with every passing day. so yeah, i’m definitely gonna lay low on the fucking theatrics this time. i’ll be a bit made up, but not hour-long type shit. i’m gonna give like sydney sweeney i-fucking-woke-up-like-this shit. effortless and cute as fuck. but like, not indimidating, i’ve made that mistake before. and i definitely will not participate in lectures, unless asked to of course. no one like a fucking smart ass. at least i don’t, not on first impression.

okay i’m gonna go to sleep now. wish me luck.

buhbye.

[valhallanrose]

Raise Hell

The beginning of an approximately ten-part series detailing Miriyam’s pre-canon. 

Raise Hell is the first piece, looking at the moment that ended up being what changed her life forever. To note: Gwendolyn is the name used through this early part of the series, as it is Miriyam’s birth name, but it will change later on as the story progresses. 

2k words. No CWs apply. 

Fic Title: Raise Hell by Dorothy.

There were some who thought, at least as far as the serving staff were concerned, that life at the Lamiara was steady - like the ticking of the clock tower visible through the Prakran skyline. 

Which made the amount of times Gwendolyn woke up late absolutely astonishing. 

The first rays of dawn had begun to peer through the stained glass window above her bed, casting a beam of gold across her eyes and making her grumble in her sleep. With an aggressive roll and tug on the blankets, she began to fall into slumber again, her disturbance brief enough to keep her from waking fully - 

Until the bell tower began to chime. 

“Five...six…” Gwendolyn smiled tiredly, getting up and starting to pull her hair back as she counted - only to freeze when the clock tolled again. 

Seven. 

“Fuck!” She yelped, quickly throwing on her uniform and darting out the door of the servants’ quarters - nearly bowling over someone else in the process. She called back an apology over her shoulder as she ran down the stairs, hardly looking back to see who it was she bumped into in her single-minded mission to reach the courtyard

When she reached the door, she hesitantly peered around the corner, making sure the coast was clear as she ducked into the next hall  - 

Only to yelp as she was cuffed lightly across the back of her head. 

She turned, heart in her throat, only to relax under Madame Lavinia’s playful smile as the matronly woman ruffled her hair. 

“I was just coming to get you. You’re on deliveries this morning, Wendy -”

“I don’t like Wendy, it’s Gwendolyn -”

“ - I’ll need you to bring this package into town, you remember where the smith is? Master Adelram has specifically requested this become top priority. Let the smith know payment will be brought upon completion, yes? They’ll know what to do.”

When Gwendolyn nodded, Madame Lavinia set a bundle in her arms - about as long as one of them, so if she had to hazard a guess, this was probably a dagger - and patted her on the shoulder with a smile on her face. 

“Alright, well, get to it. Come find me in the kitchens when you get back and I’ll give you the next task.”

And with that, Gwendolyn set off, thankful that she hadn’t gotten in trouble for being late and hustling down to the main streets of Prakra.

*     *     *     *     *

One thing about the Lamiara was the absolutely absurd amount of stairs, of which after all this time Gwendolyn still felt exhausted by, but...she couldn’t find it in herself to mind. 

She often took a moment to catch her breath when she reached the bottom of the stairs, just beside the arena the Masters used for training themselves and their students. Normally, Gwendolyn would creep as close as she dared to the archway that 

But that day the arena was empty, save for one - someone she recognized as one of the Masters but had never gotten close enough or been around her long enough to know which one. She thought it was Master Paxilim, the most elusive of the three Masters she knew, but she wasn’t entirely sure until she spotted the staff leaning against the wall on the far side of the arena.

The girl lingered for a few moments, her eyes taking in every movement as best she could as carefully wrapped fists landed against the training dummies that had certainly seen better days, committing them to memory before she quickly ducked away from the doorframe. 

And, oblivious to the presence of the woman who emerged from the arena to watch her go, disappeared down the hall to find Madame Lavinia again. 

*     *     *     *     *

It would be the dark hours of the night when Gwendolyn returned to the arena, barefoot and trying to be as quiet as she could, knowing she should be asleep but unable to help herself in her curiosity. 

After checking the arena no less than three times to be sure she was alone, Gwendolyn let out a deep breath, hesitantly smoothing a hand over the surface of the training dummies she’d seen Master Paxilim beating the hell out of a mere few hours earlier before she squared her shoulders. 

Most of the students at the Lamiara were over sixteen, and all of them over eighteen, meaning Gwendolyn had quite a long time before she could officially enroll and train under someone else’s mentorship. But that didn’t stop her from sinking into the positions she’d watched others make hundreds of times before, mirroring their actions as she tried to commit them to muscle memory. The few memories of her mother and the stories she’d heard of her all focused on her strength, her dedication to the task she’d been given, and...well, even if she didn’t know her, Gwendolyn still wanted to find some way back to the mother she knew she would never have again. 

She didn’t notice the person coming up behind her until it was too late, a firm push on the backs of her knees sweeping her feet out from under her with a squeal as she hit the sand. Blue eyes were turned skyward for a moment before someone leaned into her field of vision, a glimmer of gold catching her gaze as she blinked away the dust that had churned up around her fall. 

Master Paxilim extended a scarred hand, amusement clear on her face as she stabbed her staff down into the sand beneath them both. 

“I don’t think your duties would bring you here, little hellion.”

Confused, and admittedly more nervous than she’d ever been, Gwendolyn cautiously took her hand and let Paxilim haul her to her feet as she tried to muster up the words. 

“I’m sorry, I thought I was alone -”

Paxilim raised a hand, immediately silencing her, and chuckled as she took a step back. “I know you thought you were alone. However, that is not important.” 

She gestured to the training dummies, one hand falling to her staff but not yet removing it from the sand. “Your stance is too narrow, making it easy for you to be knocked off balance. Again.”

After a few beats of pause, Gwendolyn fell into the stance she’d tried to copy before, making Paxilim tut softly to herself. She lifted her staff, using it to tap the girl’s right leg to nudge it back. 

“And...there. It’s harder for an opponent to knock you off balance this way. If they hit you or push you…” Paxilim pressed a hand lightly into Gwendolyn’s shoulder, letting her feel her weight shift to her back leg as she explained, “...you will not falter. You may also put more weight into your front leg when you move to land a hit on your opponent.”

After a moment, Gwendolyn nodded, and Paxilim gave her a smile before she crouched down to look her in the eye a little better. 

“You’re Hrieda’s girl, yes?”

Shuffling awkwardly in place, Gwendolyn cast her gaze to the ground, but a gentle hand tipped Gwendolyn’s face upwards, forcing her to meet Paxilim’s eyes as she spoke. 

“I am, Master Paxilim.”

“I thought you were familiar. Your mother was...a friend of mine, before she passed.” Paxilim idly stroked a thumb across Gwendolyn’s jaw, contemplation clear on her face. “You look like her, you know. I’d argue damn near a spitting image. And, if what I hear is correct, as much of a hell-raiser as she was.”

Gwendolyn’s face burned in embarrassment, but she managed a shrug. “I don’t really remember her. She died a long time ago.”

When she was hardly two, actually, but she had a feeling Master Paxilim knew that. In answer, the older woman nodded solemnly, her hand falling away from the girl’s jaw to land in her own lap instead. 

“That she did.” She mused, reaching for her staff again. “You work under Lavinia now?”

Gwendolyn nodded quickly, taking a step back to give Paxilim room to stand. “Yes, ma’am. Madame Lavinia is...nice. She took care of me until I was old enough to help.”

A slim brow raised as Paxilim set a hand on Gwednolyn’s shoulder, guiding her away from the training dummies and toward the archway of the arena. “But?”

“She calls me Wendy.” The girl grumbled, missing the way the Master’s lips twitched up into a smile. “I hate being called Wendy. It sounds stupid. And I have to wake up at the asscrack of dawn to help her, and I don’t like mornings.”

“Grown words out of a girl’s mouth.” Paxilim chuckled, shaking her head slightly as they stopped under the stone arch and crouching in front of Gwendolyn as she took both her hands in her own. “I must ask you to promise me something, little one, if you would do me the courtesy.”

Gwendolyn frowned, but didn’t pull away, tilting her head slightly. “I’m not gonna promise not to swear.”

The older woman laughed, giving her hands a squeeze. “No, no, not that. I’m the last person to tell you not to swear. I’ve certainly done and said worse. But I don’t want you to come back here, Gwendolyn, this isn’t the place for you.”

She opened her mouth to argue, but Paxilim cut her off, giving her a firm look. 

“I have seen you nearly every week, if not every day, lingering at the door as we work through our training routines, and I have seen you come to this arena night after night in an attempt to copy it. While your efforts to learn are endearing, you are too young to decide if you want to walk this path.”

“But I can choose when I’m sixteen.” Gwendolyn muttered, and Paxilim sighed as she nodded. 

“You can, but you have a fair bit of time until you make that choice. And, until then, I want to be sure that you know what else the world has to offer you beyond this place. I will tell Lavinia that I will take you under my service, and at the end of the week, I will visit...an associate of mine, in Hjalle, and take you with me. And it will remain this way until you are old enough to understand what it means to become one of us, until you are old enough to understand that what you see here is a fraction of the truth of what this world is like.”

Gwendolyn rolled her lip between her teeth for a moment, mulling over her choices, her gaze fixed on a point between their feet as Paxilim 

This was the world she knew. This was what she wanted, it had been her plan pretty much for as long as she could remember. This had been her entire life, and she was okay with that, but...she couldn’t say she didn’t want to know more of the world, either. She’d heard stories of beautiful places and dangerous ones as she slipped through the halls, and even if she was afraid of some of them, Gwendolyn couldn’t imagine a life where she didn’t get to see it for herself.

“Is Hjalle warm?” She said eventually, and Paxilim’s face broke out into a smile.

“Very. Should I take that as you telling me I should bring you with me?”

Slowly, Gwendolyn nodded, giving the woman a shy smile of her own. “Yes, Master Paxilim, I’d like that very much.”

“Andromeda.” The Master corrected gently, then nudged Gwendolyn down the hall, toward the path she’d need to take to the servants’ quarters. “Goodnight, Gwendolyn. Pleasant dreams.”

With a sort of giddy skip in her step, Gwendolyn began the walk back to bed, already hoping she’d dream of what Hjalle could be - blissfully unaware that the steps she took now set her exactly down the path that Andromeda was trying to keep her from. 

#miriyam von helvig #it's gonna get ouch real fast buckle up #sorry lmao

[kiseiakhun]

I have no idea what brought this on tbh

¯\_(ツ)_/¯

*

Wally wakes up to his phone jumping to life beside his pillow. He fumbles in the dark, groping until his fingers finally make contact and squints down at the screen, half-asleep mind trying to make sense of the too-bright words and numbers. Spends so long staring, in fact, the the buzzing stops right as he finally manages to make out who’s calling.

Oops.

He lowers the brightness of his screen, debating if he should call back. A few seconds after, and his phone starts buzzing again, which, well, answers that question.

“Roy,” he sighs into the mouthpiece after pressing accept call. “What the hell do you want? You know it’s two in the morning, right?”

“Wally!” Roy says cheerily, sounding inordinately pleased that he’d picked up. Which is… fair, considering he doesn’t always when it’s Roy calling. Because sometimes he’s got a test to study for, or he’s got homework to do, and Roy can be…

Well, he’s a melodramatic asshole with more issues than he has braincells. Gets Wally’s blood boiling with the way he’s always making fun of him, calling him kid even though he’s only two years older - and every time Wally’s right about to blow his gasket, Roy segues shamelessly into words that leave him red and blushing for days. Snuffs out all of his anger and leaves him with this gnawing hunger that makes him want to just-

Distracting. Roy can be distracting, okay?

“You’re awake!” He’s saying now, and Wally sighs, loud. He would’ve pinched his nose, too, except that would require extricating his arm from within its blanket cocoon, and that sounds like far too arduous of a task right now.

It’s a matter of pride. He’s not going to let Roy fucking Harper ruin his comfort, even if he is letting him wake him at the asscrack of dawn.

“Yeah, because you woke me up, asshole,” Wally hisses quietly into the line, mindful of waking his parents. “Now what do you want? You know I have better things to do than babysit you, right?”

It’s nothing that’s different from their usual jabs. Dick had commented on it before, how half the time it doesn’t even seem like he and Roy like each other, and Wally couldn’t think of a way to explain how it’s not like that, it’s just… it’s different with them. A kind of mutual understanding that they won’t treat each other with kid gloves, because sometimes you’re not in the mood to be nice.

Except this time, Roy is quiet for a long moment, and then he says, “Yeah, sorry. I guess I should stop bugging you and let you sleep.”

His tone sounds soft. Wistful, almost, like Wally had just whispered endearments at him instead of basically telling him to fuck off. And it could be him trying to invoke pity, except Roy’s never tried that kind of manipulative bullshit in the admittedly short time that Wally’s known him. Or it could be that Roy is calling because he actually does want to talk instead of just wanting to heckle him this time.

“Whatever, dude.” Wally shifts into a more comfortable position, resigned that this might possibly turn into a long call. “I’m awake now, and I don’t think I can fall back asleep again, anyway.”

“That’s a damn lie,” Roy says, still sounding inordinately fond. “You sleep like the fucking dead.”

“No, that’s Dick,” Wally points out, stifling a yawn.

“Only when he’s been drinking.” Roy’s voice shifts lower to something more playful. “Have you been drinking, Walls? You know you shouldn’t do that. You’re a growing boy.”

“Have you?” Wally shoots back, rolling his eyes even though Roy can’t see it. 

“Of course,” Roy answers easily. “Come on, you still have to ask? It’s like you don’t even know me.”

“Yeah,” Wally answers, stifling a yawn. “It’s not like you ever call me when you’re sober.”

Silence greets his proclamation for so long that he’s starting to doze off again when Roy finally says, “I call you plenty when I’m sober.” A pause. “… right?”

“Dude,” Wally mumbles, prying his eyes open and blinking up at the ceiling. “Did you spend that long trying to remember?”

“Well, excuse me,” Roy snarks back. “It’s sort of hard using my brain right now.”

“I assumed that was the default for you,” Wally says, smiling at Roy’s annoyed grumbling.

“You’re such an asshole,” he sighs. “Why do I even like you?”

And Roy doesn’t mean anything by that, he’s sure, but his heart skips a beat anyway. “Don’t know,” he answers, keeping his tone light. “You sort of have shit standards.”

“Tell me about it,” Roy says with another melodramatic sigh.

“I have,” Wally points out. Multiple times, in fact. He’s made no secret of what he thinks about Roy’s usual choice of partners.

“Aww, baby,” Roy coos, brushing him off as always. “Don’t be jealous. You know you’re still the prettiest one in my harem.”

Wally snorts. “That’s Donna,” he points out.

“The prettiest boy, then.”

He smothers his grin. “That’s Dick,” he says, wondering if he’ll ever stop getting butterflies at how easily boy slips out of Roy’s mouth.

“Well, fine,” Roy says, sounding put-out. “You’re ugly then. Happy?”

“Why are we talking about me, anyway?” Wally asks. “Weren’t we talking about you?”

“Were we?” Roy asks, sounding genuinely confused. “I don’t remember.”

“Of course you don’t,” Wally mumbles, staring at the dark sky behind his blinds. He wonders if it’s starting to lighten already, or if that’s just his imagination. “What do you remember?”

And he’d meant it about their conversation, but Roy hums and says, “Don’t know what they gave me. S’good tho.” His voice drops to something sleepy and soft. “’S good.”

Something twists in the pit of Wally’s stomach. They all know Roy - all know what Roy is like, and it’s not anything surprising, to find that he’s taken something stronger than just booze, but. It just. It still makes his skin crawl, hearing him in this half-asleep daze, not knowing who he’s with, or what he’s taken, and he’s too far away for Wally to reach. Sometimes, he wishes he could traverse the whole globe in a heartbeat just so he could slap him for being such a - a - God, Roy bristles at any type of pity, any indication someone might give that they’re worried about him, but it’s hard keeping it contained when he’s so worrying.

“You shouldn’t just take whatever they give you,” he says anyway, and Roy huffs out a laugh.

“You don’t even know who they are.”

“Will you tell me if I ask?” Wally says archedly, and Roy’s silence is as good as an answer.

He closes his eyes, listening to the sound of Roy’s slow breathing on the other side of the line. “You still with them?” he asks, instead of what the hell are you thinking?

“Yeah,” Roy answers after a few long heartbeats.

Wally counts the stars bursting behind his eyes. He’s so, so tired right now, the seconds dragging on in long slow ticks, and the world feels muted somewhat. Muted and fake, like this is some sort of transient hour that exists outside of time, and maybe that’s what prompts him to ask, “Then why are you calling me?”

It’s only after he says it that Wally realizes how it sounds. And fuck, he didn’t mean it like - but it’s out there already, and he can’t take it back now.

But Roy barely seems to think before he says, “Maybe I just wanted to hear your voice, hm? Maybe I just missed you.”

Stop, Wally almost wants to say, but the word seems to get stuck somewhere in the back of his throat. And God, but he hates how easy it is for Roy to just say it, just come out and say this shit like it isn’t - like he isn’t –

Why him. Why him? Literally anyone else would’ve been a better option.

Wally can’t help but wish Roy had never called him tonight.

“Yeah, whatever,” is what he settles on saying, his traitorous heart pounding in his chest in double-time. And he has to keep telling himself no, has to keep reminding himself why it won’t work because Roy’s too far away and Wally’s not like him, he’s not like any of them, and the fact that they’re even talking to him at all is a damn fluke. Fuck, look at him, thinking of Roy and Donna and Dick as them instead of their own separate people. He can’t even pick which one of them to fixate on.

Maybe this is why Garth can’t seem to stand him.

“What, you don’t believe me?” Roy continues blithely, unaware of the crisis that Wally is currently having. “Do I gotta dance a jig or something to prove it to you?”

“You’re such an asshole,” Wally says, instead of stop telling me things that you don’t mean. Stop getting my hopes up. Because Roy doesn’t mean it, is the thing. Doesn’t mean it like that. He knows that it’s just his personality. Knows that if it seems like there’s anything more authentic there, it’s just him and his stupid romantic heart reading too much into things.

Roy already has a boyfriend, for one. Or, well, he pretty much does, anyway. It’s clear that both he and Garth both have their own separate things against commitment and putting a label on things, but. Come on.

“Takes one to know one, huh?” Roy teases, still sounding so fond, and Wally grumbles into his pillow.

“You’re the one who woke me up at two in the morning.”

“Yeah, well.” Roy pauses. Wally can hear the sound of something shifting on his side of the line. “Never said I wasn’t.”

It’s quiet, for a bit. Wally dozes, listening to the soft swish of wind, the clinking of glass, the soft, melodic lilt of Roy’s cursing as he drops whatever he was holding.

He so, so desperately wants to ask if everything is okay.

“Hey,” Roy asks him suddenly. “What’s the time right now?”

“You have a phone,” Wally mumbles, not quite managing to stifle his yawn this time. “Check for yourself.”

“My hands are busy. Come on. Check for me.”

“No.”

“Please?”

Wally scowls on principle, and then he laboriously peels his phone away from his ear, squinting at the time. “S'three a.m.”

“What’s that for me?”

“Fuck you.”

“Take me to dinner first.”

“No one else has to take you to dinner,” Wally complains. “Why do I have to?”

Roy barks out a laugh at that, and Wally grins in spite of himself, proud that he seemed to have startled the noise out of him. “Maybe I want to try out this whole ‘standards’ thing you guys are always harping on about. I gotta say, I’m not very impressed right now.”

“You should ask Garth to take you out to dinner,” Wally says, pausing to give another muffled yawn. “Bet… he’ll make it good for you.”

“Wally,” Roy says, sounding far too composed and lucid for how much he must’ve drank, not to mention whatever else is in his system right now. Maybe he’s immune to alcohol; he certainly drinks enough for it to be possible. “Garth ran off to be a dolphin the moment he turned eighteen. You think he has the first clue on how to date?”

“Yeah, well,” Wally mumbles, “he seems to be doing good so far. Besides,” he adds before Roy can tack on his usual spiel on how they’re not dating, which, yeah right, “like you’re any better.”

Roy makes an offended noise. “Of course I know how to date.”

“One night stands don’t count, Roy.”

“Yeah, I know. I’m not talking about those.”

“Wait, really?” Wally blinks awake, almost sitting up before remembering Roy’s not actually here with him and flopping back down on his bed.

“Of course.” Roy sounds affronted. “Do you really think I’ve never dated?”

“I didn’t think you knew what dating was,” Wally admits.

There’s a long silence. “Please tell me you’re joking.”

“Yeah, dumbass.” He rolls his eyes. “Of course I’m joking. But seriously, I thought you weren’t interested with the whole, you know.” He frowns, tired brain fumbling for the right words. “The whole… you. Thing.”

“The whole you thing,” Roy (justifiably) mocks. “Oh, that’s descriptive.”

“Shut up,” Wally sighs, blushing. “It’s three in the morning, okay? Whose fault is it, again, that I’m even up?”

“Hey.” Roy’s voice hits different this time, dipping into a warm sincerity that's… wrong. That sounds wrong, because it almost seems a little unsure, and Roy is all easy confidence and swagger, he’s not – he shouldn’t be unsure of anything. “You don’t have to, you know? I mean, if you’re busy – and you probably are, right, I mean geez, I bet you’ve got better things to do than, uh. Babysit me.”

A low stab of guilt goes through him at Roy parroting back his own words. And he probably doesn’t even remember that it was Wally who first said it, but. Shit. If anything, that makes Wally feel worse. “It’s fine, Roy,” he starts.

Roy makes a strange sound that he eventually recognizes as a choked laugh. “No,” he says. “No, Wally, it’s really not. Jesus, what the hell am I – you know you should’ve told me to fuck off by now, right?”

“Roy—”

“I mean, you’ve been just listening to me talk for, what, an hour? Don’t you have school tomorrow? God, I should just let you sleep. Yeah. You know you’re too nice, right? You shouldn’t – I shouldn't—”

“Roy,” Wally snaps. “Shut up.”

The line falls quiet. Wally listens to Roy’s ragged breathing, the quick pulls of his breath before he mumbles sorry.

It irritates him, for some reason. Or maybe that’s just the late hour that’s getting to him. “Look,” Wally sighs. “Do you want me here or not?”

“Yeah,” Roy admits quietly. “Yeah, Wally, of course I do. Why do you think I called you?”

“Because nobody else would pick up,” Wally says, mouth jumping ahead of his brain again.

“Nah.” Roy murmurs. “You’re the first one I called.”

In the same soft voice, Wally says, “I bet that’s what you tell everyone.”

“Wally,” Roy says with a crackling sigh. “Why is it so hard for you to believe that you’re someone’s first choice?”

The words are making him – making him feel some type of way. Wally chews his lip, sinking further into the blankets even though his body feels like it’s too hot right now. “Don’t use that tone on me,” he says, and through some miracle of will manages to keep his voice sounding even and unimpressed. “I’m not one of your groupies.”

“Groupies, huh?” Roy says with a low laugh that sends more curls of heat unfurling in his belly. “I guess I’ll have to try harder to impress you.”

He doesn’t mean it, Wally reminds himself, pressing his thighs together and then kicking off a corner of his blanket, pretending that’s the reason for the hot flush racing over his skin. “I don’t know, Roy. It might be a bit too late for that.”

“Come on,” Roy wheedles. “Admit it. You think I’m a total smokeshow.”

“That’s irrelevant,” Wally says, which may as well be a yes, and Roy’s smug silence tells him that he knows it, too. “Anyway, being hot isn’t that impressive.”

“So you do think I’m hot.”

“Roy.”

“Maybe I should take you on a date,” Roy muses, and Wally almost drops his phone.

“What?” he asks, voice cracking, and Roy chuckles, warm and fond.

“A date, Wally,” he says, sounding far more confident now that he’s back in the familiar territory of throwing Wally off with each step. “You do know what those are, right?”

“Of course I know what-” Wally scowls. “You can’t just do that.”

“Do what?”

“You can’t just – you have to actually like the person you’re taking out, first.”

“I do like you, Wally,” Roy says, so plain, so easy, and Wally resists the urge to chuck his phone at the wall. That’s not what he means, and Roy knows it, and he’s so frustrating. He’s so…

“Fine,” he grits out.

A short silence. “Really?” Roy asks, sounding surprised.

“Yeah, Roy,” he snaps. “Fine. Take me out.”

Roy laughs. “Come on, don’t sound so glum.” For once his tone isn’t dripping all full of suggestion when he says. “I’ll make it good for you.”

“Right,” Wally says, abruptly too tired to be angry. “Sure. Okay.”

“Okay?” Roy coaxes, sounding so soft and careful, and Wally… hates him, a little. Hates himself more, because why is he so stupid, why can he never think –

Why him. Why him?

“Shouldn’t I be asking you that? You’re the hot mess here.”

“Keep calling me hot, and I might start getting ideas.”

Personally, Wally thinks they’re already long past that, but what does he know, huh. If anything, this conversation proves that the answer is jack shit. “You already said you’d take me out on a date,” he says through another yawn, as if to prove to himself that he really is the master of digging holes that his future self will have to claw his way out of. “No taking it back now.”

“I did, huh,” Roy muses, and at least he doesn’t sound regretful. Not that it matters, considering he won’t remember any of this conversation when he sobers up, but… at least he isn’t regretting it now, in this moment.

It’s a sad consolation, if you can even call it that. There's… not much you can call it at all, really, except.

Except nothing. It’s nothing.

Wally blinks at the darkness outside his window, wondering if Roy is looking at the same sky right now.

“What do you prefer, flowers?” Roy is saying, and his voice sounds like it’s getting thicker, too. “Candles? Yeah, bet you’d go gaga for that shit. J'st wanna be wooed, huh?”

“What are you, twelve?” Wally asks, wishing he’d just shut up. Because the more he goes on about it, the more he wants, and hell, he should’ve just tried dissuading Roy from this whole train of thought in the first place. Not that dissuading ever works well with him. Brings on the opposite, in fact, which is the only reason Wally is humouring him right now and not telling him to go to hell. And shit – maybe it’s just nice, okay? Maybe it’s just nice pretending that he can have it, have an iota of what he craves for.

And god, it’s fucking pathetic that he’ll take it, and he knows, okay? He knows.

Roy makes a sleepy murmur, no doubt the start of another smart-alecky reply, but it seems like he’s finally starting to drift off. “Hey, Roy,” Wally says, and he’s quiet for so long this time that Wally’s starting to think he might’ve passed out on him.

“What?” He finally asks, and Wally chews on his lip, staring up at the ceiling.

“You’re going to be okay, right?” he asks, and it’s always a gamble with Roy because you never knows how he’s going to take your concern.

Roy is quiet for another long while, and then he lets out another soft hum. And he sounds exhausted, tired down to the bone, but he says, “Yeah, baby. Yeah, I’m great.”

“Liar,” Wally says, and it comes out too fond. Too transparent. But – god, but it feels like Roy is burning a hole in his chest right now, reaching right in and tugging at all his worries.

“Nah.” Roy chuckles. “Got all the riches in the world, remember? Don’t worry about me.”

Roy doesn’t seem to get that it’s not something he can just turn on and off. “Sure,” Wally says anyway, because it’s what he wants to hear.

“Thanks, Wally,” Roy says quieter, and Wally… doesn’t quite know how to respond to that.

“Whatever,” he says, and hopes that Roy will take it for what it is – as an anytime and not I don’t care, because fuck, he does.

He cares so much that it makes him hurt, sometimes. But at least that part’s not anything new.

Roy’s slow breathing stays on the line, eventually growing heavy with sleep. Wally counts each heavy exhale ticking down like a metronome, every slow beat a reassurance that Roy is still alive, still here, until eventually he falls asleep, too.

#roy harper #wally west #writes #roywally #wallyroy #I think this is just a character study I don't think I'll use it in any longer works?? hence putting it here #and if I do use a version of it #it's going to be one that's seriously pared down and not. uh. over 3 thousand words #stars and constellations

[riverboundao3ff]

Riverbound, Chapter 20

Your name is MICAH, and ten nights have come and gone in what felt like a few hours.

It’s still early enough that even Lynera is still asleep in the next room over, which is really saying something because that girl is up at the asscrack of dusk no matter what night it is. You’re curled up on the sofa in the study, staring at a fungus-shaped nightlight that does a poor job of actually illuminating the surrounding area, and wondering what the hell you were going to tell your friends in the future.

Hey, guys! Sorry I kind of dropped off the grid for a while there. I fought this fucked-up version of one of my human friends, vanished into the literal void to take a nap because I was super tired from splitting a whole universe apart, and then traveled back to the past to help fight in a literal revolution… because I want to save my other friends, I guess? You don’t have to worry about that changing the future or whatever, I promise! I’m literally a god now, so I have total control over time and space.

Geez. You hope Vriska is ready to stop the others from kicking your ass.

Should you just go? You could easily spend the night on future Alternia and be back by breakfast. Teleporting still makes you a little nervous; the fear of messing up still lingers in the back of your head, but nothing bad has happened yet, so…

Yeah, you’re definitely not getting any more sleep. Might as well be productive.

You roll off the couch with a grunt, stagger a bit as all the blood rushes down to your legs, and then stumble over to the bathroom to brush your teeth and wash your face. Maybe you were about to pull up to the future to get yelled at by a bunch of teenagers, maybe not, but that doesn’t mean you have to look like crap.

The person looking back at you in the mirror startles you more than you’d like to admit. Their eyes are tired but wild, like a feral animal that’s been hunted to the point of exhaustion. Too-pale skin reflects the ceiling lights with an intensity that hurts your head if you look for too long. The dark shadows underneath both eyes are so dark they look like smudged mascara. You’ve always been very fair, even for a white kid, but you know that looking like this can’t be healthy.

Then there’s the fact that you’re still pretty underweight. You’ve been doing your best to eat on a somewhat regular basis, but you just don’t feel hungry anymore. It’s like your body already decided to give up.

And to be honest, the rest of you isn’t too far behind.

“Look at you. Sans Undertale looking-ass,” you tell the shadow in the mirror.

The shadow blinks in agreement at the same time you do.

You can’t look at yourself anymore. Moving as quickly as you can, you brush your teeth and do your best to assemble yourself into what could maybe pass for a functional human being and leave to go get dressed.

You’re rifling through your backpack for your water bottle when the lights come on in Lynera’s room. The bedroom door cracks open, and a messy head of pair pokes out, bits of sopor slime still clinging to black curls.

“Micah? What are you doing up so early?” she yawns.

“I, ah, I gotta go visit some friends a ways out of town. I’ll be back in a bit,” you promise. “Sorry if I woke you up.”

“You didn’t! A new cluster of eggs is due to hatch tonight and I want to be there!” she practically sings as she gets ready.

You feel the sadness leave your body as Lynera practically prances around as she gets ready for her shift. It’s not often she lets down her walls, but when she does, you can’t help but take a step back to enjoy the show.

“Give those babies some love for me,” you tell her as you hoist your backpack over your shoulders.

“I will!”

Alright. Here we go. You close your eyes and visualize Vriska’s living room. That’s a good place to start, right? You’ll have a quick talk with Vriska, you’ll go visit your other friends one at a time to explain what’s going on, and then you can talk to those who are interested about helping the rebellion from the future.

Time and space part easily as you zap out of Lynera’s study and--

“-- worry about OH MY FUCKING GOD.”

You yelp in surprise as somebody shrieks at a deafening volume right next to your ear. Instincts take over, and you spring backward into something big and hard. That ‘something’ turns out to be a bookshelf, as you soon find out as a couple of novels fall from the top shelves and hit you right on the head.

“Ow! Shit!”

And that’s when you realize you have twelve young teenagers sitting around Vriska’s living room, all staring at you in various degrees of shock. Nepeta, Equius, Kanaya, and Sollux are all on the sofa, with Sollux perched on the backrest like he’s ready to take flight. Terezi and Vriska are standing on the coffee table together for some reason. Eridan’s curled up on the loveseat with one hand on his rifle. All of the others are sprawled out on the carpet.

All of the others except for Karkat, that is, who seems to have been returning from the kitchen with a pile of chips on his plate.

“Oh, hi!” Aradia says cheerfully. “Wow, I can see your bones--”

“THEY’RE BAAAAAAAACK!” Vriska hollers, launching herself off the coffee table and slamming into you at full speed.

The air is smooshed out of your lungs before you can brace yourself for impact. Thankfully, Vriska catches you before you can eat shit, otherwise you would have probably just teleported back to past Alternia and tried this whole thing again some other time.

“Hey, Vris,” you wheeze, patting her back. “Happy to see you too.”

“Fucking HELL, don’t do that,” Karkat yells, stomping over to the sofa and plopping down next to Kanaya. Kanaya purses her lips in mild amusement and delicately plucks a chip from his plate to eat.

Vriska just scoffs. “Don’t be a baby, Vantas, you know full well Micah can teleport--”

“Eat my full ass, Serket.”

“Hi, Micah!” Nepeta trills. A general murmur of greetings follows that, some more enthusiastic than others. Sollux, Equius, and Tavros all seem to be very on-edge tonight.

Feferi actually hops up to give you a hug as well, thankfully with a lot more care than Vriska had. It’s becoming weirdly normal to know that this big-ass six-sweep old girl could crush your skull like an eggshell.

“Don’t worry, nobody’s mad at you, I promise,” she whispers in your ear.

“Huh?”

Vriska grins and clasps your shoulder. “Oh, I already told them everything.”

“... Oh, boy.”

You turn back to the others and try your best winning smile.

“Yeah, what the fuck, dude?” Sollux demands.

“How are we even gonna exist with this kind of thing?” Karkat splutters, throwing his hands up in the air.

Tavros winces. “We get that you can do crazy space-time stuff, but--”

“You’re in way over your pan, retard!”

Ah, fuck. “Listen, guys, I know what I’m doing sounds pretty insane. And I’m sorry that I can’t tell you how exactly I’m going to pull all of this off because… you know, time shenanigans. But I need you guys to trust in me, at least for now. Also, Karkat, let’s not use that word. It’s extremely disrespectful.”

“Who are you, my lusus?” he challenges.

“No. Should I zap over and get him myself?”

“NO!”

“That’s what I thought.”

Vriska snickers under her breath. Karkat gives her a look that just screams murder.

Everybody else still looks a little queasy. Guilt rears its ugly head for the millionth time in the hour you’ve been awake, fearful and taunting and ashamed all at the same time. If you could just tell them everything, right now, you wouldn’t have to feel like this anymore.

Tell them.

You don’t, because you’re a coward, but you do try and calm everybody’s nerves again. “To elaborate on what Tavros just tried to say, yes, I can do crazy space-time stuff. Which means I can do stuff in one point in time and it won’t completely fuck up all the other points in time. It’ll change things, sure, but it won’t erase people.”

“What about our memories?” Eridan asks tersely.

“Definitely not,” you tell him. I won’t let that happen. “If everything goes according to plan, things will just start… changing.”

“We’re gonna make a new world that’s better for everybody!” Vriska announces proudly. “That’s why you guys are all here today.”

“By our human friend fighting in a rebellion that was already lost? Setting aside the fact that’s… treason… that also sounds rather dangerous. Micah, you aren’t a great fighter,” Equius says. His voice is quiet, but he’s so stiff you could probably use him to prop open a barn door.

“A rebellion is a lot more than just fighting, dude. So far I’ve just helped teleport people around,” you remind him.

“... Still.”

Nepeta suddenly surges to her feet, eyes blazing. “I don’t care that it’s treason! Don’t you care about what they did to me? My whole neighborhood got burned down in a drone strike!”

“Nepeta--”

“No! I remember everything now. I’m gonna help them win, ‘cause, ‘cause… even though we all had to suffer, the ones who come after us might not have to.”

Nobody speaks for many heartbeats after that. Something about what she said rings inside your head, sticking to your neurons like glue.

“See? Nepeta knows what’s good!” Terezi yells.

“This is insane.”

“Yeah, it’s awesome!”

“I’m in,” Aradia agrees, winking at you as she smooths her skirt down. Your anxiety backs down a little at her blatant support. Aradia Knows Things, right? Surely if she thinks you should keep doing what you’re doing…

“So am I,” Tavros announces, setting his jaw defiantly. Nepeta seems to have set off a chain reaction, because everybody else sits up a little straighter, eyeing each other as if daring anybody else to go first.

“And I,” Kanaya adds.

Karkat groans. “Fuck you guys. Fine! It’s not like we can play SGRUB anymore.”

“You guys are gonna die,” Sollux says, scrubbing his face with the palms of his hands. “We. Are. All. Gonna. Die.”

“So are you in?” you ask, reaching over to poke his arm.

He smacks your hand away. “Get fucked. Sure. Whatever.”

“Yay!”

Eridan huffs quietly and crosses his arms. “Well, you guys are gonna need somebody with power to help. And money. I’m in.”

Equius turns to stare at him with his jaw nearly on the floor, and you’re so full of pride you think you’re going to explode. You should have known your friends would eventually come around. And with not one, but two whole seadwellers on their side, they were truly going to be a force to be reckoned with.

“I knew it! I knew you cared!” Feferi squeals, jabbing a finger at her ex-moirail. Eridan curls up tighter on himself, but that doesn’t stop a small smile from lighting up his face.

“Is that a yes from you, Feferi?”

“It’s a hell yes, Micah!”

Gamzee smiles lazily from underneath the coffee table. “I told you motherfuckers. I told you a miracle was coming, and here it is.”

Poor Equius looks like he’s on the verge of a panic attack. “I-I… you can’t possibly, I mean--”

“If you’ll excuse us!” Nepeta chirps, effortlessly pulling her moirail from the couch and slinging him over her muscular shoulders. The indigoblood yelps indignantly, but Nepeta just prances on upstairs as if she’s carrying a sack of potatoes and not a teenage boy nearly twice her size.

“What’s up with olivebloods and being insanely buff? I mean, my girlfriend’s taken on a jadeblood and a teal at the same time and she won,” you wonder.

Karkat immediately focuses on you with the intensity of a laser. “A girlfriend? You’re in a relationship?”

“Micah’s got a girlfriend!” Feferi yells, picking you up and twirling you around.

“What quadrant?”

“Is she cute?”

“An oliveblood, right-?”

“We wanna meet her!”

“Guys! Can we please focus on taking down the Empire? We can gossip about Micah’s love life later!” Vriska yells, clapping her hands for order.  

You rest an elbow on Feferi’s shoulder, enjoying being tall for the moment as she’s carrying you. “Ooh! You got a mission plan, Vriska?”

“You bet your skinny alien ass I do!” She pauses for emphasis and puffs out her chest. “We’re gonna go beat up a bitch for using lowbloods as FLARP bait!”

“Didn’t you do the exact same thing not too long ago?” Karkat scoffs.

Vriska scowls down at him. “Yes! Yes, I did! But now I’m gonna turn things around and help them instead, okay? ‘Cause I’m changing my…. my toxic behavior.”

She looks to you for support, and you give her the thumbs-up.

The others actually look a little impressed, which gives her the courage to keep going. “In half an hour Terezi and I are going to meet this violetblood dude who’s been responsible for a lot of rust and bronze deaths in the area. It’s a FLARP session at sea, so he’ll have his team-- I mean hostages-- on board with him.”

“You need a team?” you ask.

“You offering?”

“Of course.”

“Yes! But no passing out on me! Our goal is to neutralize the threat, secure the hostages, and deliver them back to shore so they can go home. Any questions?”

“I’m coming too,” Eridan says. He hops to his feet, dusting off some invisible debris on his pants. “That’s not a question, though.”

“Can I come? It sounds exciting,” Aradia begs.

“Sure! Anybody else?” Vriska scans the crowd with a smirk, as if saying You are all too pussy for this kind of adventure.

Unfortunately, it works. Karkat and Feferi step forward as well, which brings the team total up to six. Everybody else gets ready to go home before the sun comes up. Out on the horizon, heat lightning crackles in the sky like a strobe ball. You end up leaving your jacket with your backpack on the couch, because even for somebody who has trouble retaining heat, Alternian summers are brutal.

Surprisingly, the team figures out their FLARP-ing shit quickly enough, as they all played at one point or the other. You still have no idea what to make out of all the numbers and stats and scores that come with each move, even though Vriska makes it all look like child’s play. Karkat keeps grumbling about “games for girls” which has your hackles up until you remember that female trolls tend to be more violent than the males. That makes sense to you, especially when you remember Remele beating the shit out of that purpleblood and all of Lynera’s knives.

In almost no time at all the six of you are sailing out to sea, the wind in your hair and the smell of salt water filling your nose. If you close your eyes and pretended, you could almost imagine you’re back on Earth, taking a boat ride with your mom’s boyfriend and your stepsister at the lakehouse--

A particularly large wave knocks you back on your ass, and the memory cuts off as quickly as it began.

“Fuck!” you hiss, trying to get your bearings. You try as hard as you can to visualize what you just remembered, but all you can recall is sunlight sparkling off water, the rumble of an engine, a man laughing and nearly choking on his beer as your tiny preteen self got knocked around by the rocking of the motorboat.

A strong hand picks you up by the arm and sets you on your feet. “You okay?”

“Yeah. Thanks, Fef.” You pat her elbow. “Sometimes it’s rough being a little guy.”

Her eyes are round with sympathy. “Looks like it. That reminds me, I wanna ask your opinion on something really important.”

“Oh, okay!” Wow, the Heiress of Alternia is asking my opinion on something? Talk about friends in high places.

… Wait, what was I trying to remember?

“What do you think of the hemospectrum?”

You purse your lips. “Well, if that ain’t a loaded question I dunno what is.”

“I mean, you don’t have to answer, but…”

“You know what I think? I think that the hemospectrum could have been a really good thing. Those who live for quite some time, paving the way for those who won’t be here as long? Sounds great. But then it became about power and control. And-And I think that if-- that once we win, we can’t go back to that system. There’s just too much trauma that’s been birthed from it that’s affected literally every troll to have ever existed,” you explain.

Feferi considers that, and then she nods in agreement. “That makes sense.”

“Oh, shit, is it big brain hour?” Terezi calls from the wheel.

“It is!” Then you do a double-take. “Why is the blind girl driving?”

“Vriska’s getting dressed.”

“Do you even know where we’re going?”

“Forward.”

“Bruh.”

Karkat throws up for the fifth time over the side of the ship. You groan and stumble over to him to pat his back.

“You’ll get your sea legs soon,” you promise.

“I hate the ocean. Why does there need to be oceans. I never would have thought I would ever say this but by infant Troll Jegus do I miss Texas. It’s hot, it’s human-racist, but there is hardly any damn water and for that it’s easily one of the best places I’ve ever been,” he rasps.

You smile. “Wanna see Dave after this is over?”

“Yes, please. Strider’s bullshit is the only thing that can numb me to the pain of occupying the realm of mortals.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you see Eridan smirk. You turn to look at him in confusion, and he makes the quadrant symbol for flushcrush: two thumbs pressed together over the center of his chest, where a troll’s heart would be.

Really? you mouth at him, delighted by this unexpected turn of events. He nods eagerly, clearly just as enthusiastic about Karkat getting a boyfriend as you are, but before you can sneak off with him to get the tea his gaze fixates on something past you.

You turn to see the small speck of what is undoubtedly another ship coming your way. A ship that is much bigger and fancier than the 8rigantine, at full sail and most likely armed to the teeth.

“He’s coming on our eleven!” Feferi calls up to Terezi.

“Go get Vriska,” the tealblood orders. Her perfectly white fangs flash in the light of the moons as she grins like a shark. “Time to kick this bitchboy’s ass!”

#riverbound #hiveswap friendsim trolls #hiveswap #mspa reader #c20 #the guardian #beta trolls #pesterquest #homestuck

[comicgeekscomicgeek]

Their Hero Academia – Learning Curve

Presenting the next chapter of my on-going, next-gen, My Hero Academia fic, Their Hero Academia!  

Earlier chapters can be found here

Old habits died hard. Since he was a teenager, Katsuki has almost always risen at 0500.  Sure, there were a few times, like after his first Sports Festival or after some more grievous injuries and hospital stays, where he slept later than that, but it was a discipline he’d engrained in himself for ages.  He’d rise, change, go for a run or engage in other intensive exercise, and still be back in plenty of time to shower, change again, and get breakfast started before Shitty Hair and the kids had even woken up.

He couldn’t go for the run anymore.  He was only a few weeks out from his… injury.  They’d been able to fit him for and fabricate a standard prosthetic in record time, the perks of being the Number Four Hero.  He should have refused the expedited process, done it fair like everyone else.  He felt guilty for it, but Eijiro had convinced him to accept.

“You’ve spent your life helping other people, Katsuki,” Eijiro had said.  “Let somebody help you for once.”

So he still woke up at the asscrack of dawn and there was nothing he could do about it.  Eijiro’s sleeping bulk next to him wouldn’t stir for at least another hour at best.  How he could love someone who snored like a rusty chainsaw, he didn’t know.

With nothing to do for it, he swung himself up into a sitting position, needing more effort than usual to maintain his balance as he slid his foot to the floor.   He can still barely bring himself to look at his… stump.  Katsuki has heard about phantom limb before.  There was little doubt in his mind now that it existed.  There were times he was certain his leg was still there.

But it was not.  The Nomu had broken him.  A fucking robot broke him in ways that all the Villains he’d put away over the years never had.  There were so many enemies he’d made over the years who would have killed to have hurt him this badly, and it had been a damn robot that had done it. Sure, the robot mad obviously been part of some bigger scheme, but he got the feeling he wasn’t the target. Just collateral damage.

Once upon a time, that would have been a big enough blow to his pride that he would have flown into a rage, angry that some crackpot Villain didn’t consider him the world’s biggest threat.

He’d had a lot of therapy since he was a shit-for-brains teenager.  It still hurt, still made him angry, but not in the way it would have once upon a time.

His prosthetic leg stood next to the bed, a reminder of everything he’d lost.  It took the work of several long minutes to put it on. First, he fit the liner around his stump.  It was some kind of high tech interface material, printed circuits on the inside and out, but with a soft texture to prevent chafing and other issues.  Then he fit the socket of the prosthetic on top of that.  Because of the nature of his injury, it wasn’t a clean cut, taking nerves and other muscle fibers with it.  The major of what would be his “knee” was worked into the prosthetic.  Finally, he made sure the prosthetic itself was locked into place and pressed the small button on the side.  

There was a small electric hum as the leg came to life and a warm feeling circulated through his stump.  If he wasn’t too active, he could make this circuitry liner last the better part of three days.  The time was significantly less if he was.  Even though his Quirk was concentrated in his hands, all his sweat had a level of nitroglycerin to it that would eventually cause the circuitry to degrade.  He had plenty of spares, of course, but it was one more reason why he was out of the game for now.

It was almost like having a leg again.  Emphasis on almost.

Eijiro would tell him that he should rest while he could.  Melissa Togata and Mei Hatsume were hard at work on developing a prosthetic that will hold up to his Quirk.  But that would take time.  It was time he didn’t know how to fill.  He’d never been an idle person before.  He wasn’t sure he could survive as one.

He looked over at his husband’s sleeping form and smiled.  He still didn’t think he deserved anyone as understanding and patient as Eijiro.  

The time on the clock said 0515.  Katsuki had let his thoughts wander long enough.  It was time to start the day.

***

“You sure you don’t want any help, Bakubabe?”

“I told you, I’ve got this!”

Eijiro’s question was meant to be helpful, a simple domestic request.  But Katsuki couldn’t help but wonder if Eijiro didn’t think he could cut it. Those were negative thoughts and he had to constantly remind himself that every offer of help was not pity, was not shameful.

Besides, he enjoyed cooking. And there was no way in hell he was letting Eijiro cook.  The last time his husband had tried making breakfast, he’d somehow set the cereal on fire.

Katsuki was making breakfast, his attention was occupied by the stove, but he spared a moment to cast his eyes to the kitchen table, where Eijiro, Katsumi, and Tai were sitting.  Tai was eagerly telling Katsumi about everything she’d missed while at U.A. and Katsumi was listening attentively, her little brother bringing out a softer side in her she’d probably have murdered somebody if they had seen.  

He knew that it would be brief, that Katsumi would be gone all too quickly, first on vacation, then to the U.A. training camp, and then back to U.A., but it made him happy to have all his family back under one roof for a while.

His happy musings were interrupted by the doorbell ringing.  It was a little after 0800.  He wondered who the hell it could be.  They didn’t get a lot of company most of the time, though Pikachu and Lobes and Raccoon Eyes and Soy Sauce Face and all the rest had been coming around more lately.  Eijiro claimed it was because “they’re your friends and they care about you.”

“Somebody going to get that?” he asked.

“I’ll get it!” Tai said cheerfully, jumping up from his chair.  Before Katsuki could even blink, he was already running off.

“I’ll get it,” Eijiro said, getting up and pushing back from the table.  “Before Tai,” he added, hastily.  They lived in a gated community and had a very good security system, so the odds of it being anyone with ill intention towards them were minimal, but they still didn’t allow Tai to open the door without first checking who it was.  A door-cam would let Eijiro know if it was someone who shouldn’t be allowed inside, like a Villain, Monoma, or his mother.  Though for some reason Eijiro actually liked his mother and kept letting her inside.

Still, he listened in as he heard his husband and son answer the door.  “Oh, hi, Mister All Might!”

What?

“Whatever it is, I didn’t do it,” Katsumi said quickly.

***

All Might was sitting at his breakfast table.  He’d begged off any actual food, but had accepted the cup of coffee Katsuki had forced upon him.  Because he was a damn good host.  Katsuki took a minute to eat a few bites of his own food before he started talking.

“You do know Deku lives next door, right, old man?” he asked.  “You didn’t get lost, did you?”

It was ruder than he should have been, he knew.  Especially to someone he’d looked up to pretty much all his life.  But he had a damn morning routine and didn’t take well to having it disrupted.  Well, more disrupted than his current circumstances already had.  But he should really have been setting a better example for Tai.  

All Might laughed and shook his head.  “No,” he said.  “I’m in the right place.  I have matters I wish to speak to you on.  But perhaps it would be better in private?”

Katsuki exchanged a quick look with Eijiro and then another with Katsumi.  Over the years, they’d mastered the art of silent communication. He trusted Katsumi to know if she needed to get Tai out of the room.

“Anything you’ve got to say to me, you can say in front of my family,” he said instead.

All Might nodded and sipped his coffee.  “As you wish,” he said.  “But first, may I ask, how is your recovery going?”

The genuine concern in All Might’s eyes and in his voice spoke volumes.  Katsuki was privy to the old man’s secrets and the secrets Deku carried. He knew about how badly the old man had been injured ages ago and how he’d fought on regardless.  He knew about how All Might had held himself together with spit and bailing wire and kept on.  His own injuries weren’t anywhere near as bad as All Might’s had been, but unlike most offers of it, he actually appreciated the sympathy here.  

The unspoken message was clear.  You don’t have to put on a brave face for me. I’ve been where you are.  There’s no shame here.

And for once, Katsuki believed that.

“It’s going,” he admitted. “Still doing plenty of physical therapy. Haven’t fallen in a while.  I can do stairs now.”

“Daddy had to sleep in the guest room when he came home!” Tai volunteered.  “But I stayed with him so he wouldn’t be lonely!”

“Quiet the heroic act, Young Tai,” All Might said, giving Tai a smile.   That practically had his son glowing, though thankfully not the kind he did before he exploded.

All Might hesitated for a moment before he asked a second question.  “And your Agency?”

Katsuki winced at that and an apologetic look flitted across All Might’s face.  “It’s all right,” Katsuki said finally.  “Sidekicks are running things.  Got plenty of them after all.  They still send me some case files and I weigh in and give orders.”

“He won’t take a real leave of absence,” Eijiro said, the traitor.  “No matter how much I ask him to.”

“Brain still works, even if the rest of me doesn’t,” he snapped.  “I’ve still got work to do.  And speaking of, don’t you have to go in today?”

Eijiro looked at the clock and his eyes went wide.  “Oh, man! You’re right!  I totally forgot!”  He got up from his seat and kissed Katsuki on the cheek, ruffled Katsumi’s hair (to her indignant cries and swats), and gave Tai a hug.  “Nice to see you, All Might!” he said, running out the door.

Katsuki just shook his head. “What would he do without me?” he muttered.

“Anyway,” All Might said, “as I’m sure your daughter told you, I’m leaving my teaching position to become U.A.’s new principal.”

Katsuki fixed Katsumi with the same kind of look he used to get confessions out of Villains.  “I’m sure she did,” he said.

Katsumi shrugged. “You didn’t ask.”

“You’re gonna be the principal?” Tai asked, eyes wide.  “But who’s going to do your old job?”

“You said you were looking into a candidate,” Katsumi said.  She tapped a finger against her cheek and her mouth opened slightly and closed just as quickly.  If he hadn’t been watching, he would have missed it entirely.  But something in her posture changed and she sat up just a little straighter.

“I did,’ All Might said. “Good memory, Young Lady.   In truth, there was only one candidate we were considering…”

He turned and faced Katsuki. He didn’t even have to say it. Katsuki could put two and two together.

“What,” he said, “the fuck?”

“Daddy said a bad word!”

***

“Are you out of your da—are you out of your mind, old man?” Katsuki demanded, having forced All Might from the kitchen to his private study, putting him on small couch there that Eijiro or the kids crashed on when keeping him company.  The walls were filled with awards and newspaper articles, many of which had been clipped and saved by his overly-sappy husband.  He hadn’t been in here in a while.  Too much of a reminder of what he’d lost and what he might not have ever again.

Katsuki remained on his feet.  It almost put him and All Might at eye level.  All the better to glower and try to control this conversation.   Katsumi had taken Tai upstairs, but he was still aware that, with how loud he could get, his young and impressionable son might still overhear and repeat things he said.  And he’d had enough conversations with Tai’s teacher about that already.

“What,” he goes on, “in our history together, makes you think I’m possibly capable of being a teacher?”

“You’ve mentored any number of Sidekicks,” All Might said, calmly.  “And yes, there were those who complained you were a harsh taskmaster, but every single Sidekick who served under you and who went on to a solo career is a top one hundred Hero.  Even those Sidekicks that left your service to work for someone else are noted to have picked up many skills from you.”

“Well, duh,” he snapped. “Gotta bring up the quality of the dumba—of the people I’ve got working for me.  Can’t have them making me look bad!”

All Might chuckled at that. “And, of course, Young Shinso speaks very highly of your mentorship of him.”

Fuck.

“Shinso,” Katsuki said quietly.  With everything that had been going on, he hadn’t had much time to spare a thought for the kid.  He immediately felt guilty about that.  The kid had been right there when it had all gone down.  He knew Shinso had been feeling guilty about it, but he thought he’d patched things up with their little talk at the hospital.  That was how that worked, right?  Big speech, change the world.  Just like All Might.  

The better part of a decade and a half of parenting told him that was not how anything worked.

“How is he?  I haven’t seen him since…”

“He’s getting better every day,” All Might told him kindly.  “Not quite back to his usual self, even now, but a far cry from where he was back then.  Terrible business…”

All Might’s face had gone quite grim, and Bakugo could understand.  The Nomu were the legacy of his greatest enemy.  Even if it was only someone using those tools, the former Number One could only have been thinking about how if he’d been more certain All for One was in the grave, none of it would have happened.

“But Deku and the others are working on discovering the Villains behind it.  I’m sure we’ll see justice done.”

An awkward silence hung in the air for a moment, until Katsuki broke it.  Because he could connect the dots on this easily enough. “I’m not taking some kind of pity job,” he said.  “Just because I can’t go in the field right now doesn’t mean I’m not gonna leap right back in as soon as the eggheads get it figured out.”

Katsuki grunted.  His stump was beginning to ache.  He’d been on his feet too long, but he’d be damned if he’d give All Might the satisfaction of seeing him need to sit down. It would just prove his point.

“I won’t lie to you, Katsuki,” All Might said, his hands folded.  The Symbol of Peace, in his study, wearing one of those stupid mustard yellow pinstripe suits of his.  How Aunt Inko had never managed to get him to buy better clothes, he didn’t know.  “It was a factor.”

“I ought to throw you out of my house,” he growled, taking a menacing step forward.  He winced again.   “Dammit,” he hissed under his breath.  He really didn’t need to be looking weak now.  With as much dignity as he could muster, and trying to project that it was his choice, he sat down in his desk chair.  It was larger than was really needed to be to be functional, plush and comfortable, not fitting the business-like design of the rest of the study, and just big enough that Tai could sit with him in it.

“Can I ask you to hear me out first?” All Might asked, pleading with him.  

“You’ve got five minutes.”

All Might drew in a breath. “You forget, lad, I’ve seen you grow from an angry young man who threatened to kill his classmates on a regular basis to a responsible young adult who reigned in his behavior enough to get his license to one of the greatest Heroes in the country.  You’ve already had a career that would put many current and even veteran Heroes to shame.  And you really do have a lot of offer.  You’ve got plenty of natural talent, but you paired that with more hard work than anyone I’ve ever seen, other than Izuku.”

Katsuki tried very hard not to react to being compared to Deku like that.  They might have buried the hatchet years ago, but again, old habits died hard.

“More than that though,” All Might went on, “I know what it’s like to be struck down, to have people tell you that you should just give up.  I know what it’s like to have a bright future and...”

The silence that followed for the next several seconds was choking.  But Katsuki understood well what it meant.  All Might was more than lucky to still be among the living.  The different factors that had contributed to his still being alive were nothing short of a minor miracle.

Katsuki was down, but not out.  Injured, but still moving forward.  Still strong in the parts of him that were whole, not some skeleton running on fumes.

And yet the comparison was apt.  He’d been the Number Four Hero with eyes on the Number One slot, and even at forty-one, still had plenty of years left in him.

Had being the operative word.  As much as hated to think about it, the question of “what do I do now?” still weighed upon him.  Because if the eggheads couldn’t fix him…

All Might continued, “Though it was originally meant to simply be a cover for my search for a successor, I found I did love teaching.”  He smiled, ruefully.  “Even if I wasn’t very good at it at first.”

Katsuki had to laugh at that.  “That’s putting it mildly.”

“But the fact of the matter is, teaching helped me re-center myself, after I had spent the last vestiges of my power.  I got better at it.  Or at least I think I did.”

He chuckled again. “Yeah, you were all right.”

All Might shared in the chuckle.  “Such a ringing endorsement.  But the fact remains, Katsuki, U.A. was there for me when I needed it.  Let it be here for you.”

Katsuki looked at the clock. “Your five minutes are up.”

***

“So what did All Might want?” Eijiro asked that night at dinner.  Katsuki had cooked again.  It was something he could still do, so he insisted on doing it whenever possible. Because he pulled his own damn weight. He was nobody’s burden.

“Had to be something big,” Katsumi said.  “Dad sent me and the Squirt upstairs.  Heard him yelling at one point.”

“Don’t talk with your mouth full,” Katsuki said automatically.  Dad-instincts had gone to war with his objections to her spilling the beans and had ultimately won.

“That’s your objection here?” Katsumi asked.   But after he gave her a look, she followed up with, “Yes, sir.”

Eijiro was still awaiting an answer to his question.  He should have just said All Might was checking in on him, but he wasn’t and would never be a liar.  He would fully admit to having a fairly selective understanding of reality in the past, but he wasn’t a liar.   Besides, Katsumi and Tai would know that wasn’t true, even if they hadn’t heard what was going on.  And Katsumi was more than smart enough to have to put it together.  The clues hadn’t been hard to follow.

“He had a job offer for me,” he said, finally.

“Oh?” Eijiro asked, water bottle halfway to his mouth.  “Ah, doing what?”

“Teaching,” Katsuki replied.  He frowned. Might as well go for it. “He’s succeeding Nezu as principal and wants me to be the new first year Heroics teacher.”

“I thought that’s what it was,” Katsumi said, “but I didn’t believe it…”

“Believe it,” he said.

“Daddy’s gonna be a teacher?” Tai asked, eyes wide.

“Maybe,” Katsuki said. “I told him I’d think about it.”

“Oh,” Eijiro said.  He took a drink.  

Katsuki sighed.  Eijiro had on his “thinking” face.  The one he got when he wasn’t really sure what to say. Most of the time, it was pretty adorable.  “Tell me what you’re thinking,” he said.

“Well,” Eijiro said, “it’s just, I know you’re itching to get back into action… just as soon as… you’re able…”   He trailed off, as though not quite sure how to finish that sentence.  “How’s that going to work?”

Yeah.  That was the goal.  “As soon as he was able.”   Whatever that meant.  And the timeline didn’t really seem good.  They all knew it.  No one said it, but they all knew it.  Well, Tai probably didn’t know it.  But they’d all been content to hold onto the fiction that it was just a matter of time until their lives were all back to normal.

He wasn’t a liar, but he was certainly good at burying things he didn’t want to think about.

“Might not be forever,” he said instead.  “But it’d get me out of the house.”

“He’s right about one thing,” Eijiro said, now that they were on slightly steadier ground.  “You’d be a great teacher.”

“I’m trying not to be insulting here, but…” Katsumi said.  She shrugged helplessly when they looked at her.

“No, really!” Eijiro insisted.  “Your dad’s the reason I passed all my regular classes!  Mina and Denki too!”

“Couldn’t have a bunch of dummies drag me down,” Katsuki said, his mind flashing back to long and yelling-filled study sessions.  He was pretty sure he wouldn’t be allowed to come up with insulting nicknames for his students or launch into profanity-laced tirades about how they wouldn’t know the quadratic equation from their own asses.

Katsumi, meanwhile, had pushed her plate away and was holding her head in her hands.  “I don’t believe this…”

That did give him a moment’s pause.  He hadn’t thought through this angle when he’d been talking to All Might.  “Look, if you don’t want me too…”

She pulled her head up. “I’ll live, Dad.  You would be good at it.   Who else did I get all my moves from?

“And besides,” she went on, “you’d be less embarrassing than Papa.”

“Katsumi!” Eijiro shrieked.  “I’m not embarrassing!  I’m the cool dad!”

“No, you’re not,” Katsumi and Katsuki said at the same time.  They stared for a moment, then laughed.

“Um,” Tai said, “if you’re gonna be a teacher, are we gonna have to move?”

“That’s something Papa and I would have to talk about,” Bakugo said.  Thoughts of no longer living within shouting distance of Deku, Pickahu, that Copycat Bastard, and Eijiro’s dumber half-brother danced through his mind, before remembering that Itsuka Tetsutetsu was already a U.A. teacher, splitting her time between living on campus and their home across the street from him, though they had the advantage of only having the one child.

“We’d probably move though,” he said.  “Or else I wouldn’t get to see you as much.  And nobody’d like that.”

Tai nodded.  “I’d miss you!  And if Papa had to do all the cooking, we’d starve!”

Eijiro crossed his arms and harrumphed.  “Everybody’s a critic.”

“You know he’s right, Papa,” Katsumi said.

Still…

“It’s your choice, Bakubabe,” Eijiro said after a moment.  “You know me.  I’ll follow you anywhere.  If you want this… if you need this, then we’ll do it.”

“Yeah,” Katsumi said. “As long as you promise not to embarrass me…”

“Daddy’s gonna be a teacher!” Tai said, helpfully.

“Yeah, okay,” he said. “Maybe I am…”

***

Later, Katsuki climbed into bed with Eijiro, the thoughts of the day still running through his head. He had been an easy sleeper, but ever since the Nomu, it took him longer and longer to fall asleep.  There were too many intrusive thoughts these days trying to undermine his confidence and sense of self.  He’d had nights like that before, like when his children had been born and he’d been worried as fuck about how he could be a good father.  But this, this was more like when he’d blamed himself for All Might’s last stand.

The thought that he would never be good enough again kept pounding against his the inside of his skull. The question of whether accepting this teaching job was giving up or being realistic asked itself a thousand times, in a thousand different ways.

“What do you really think, Eijiro?” he asked.  There wasn’t much need to be more specific than that.

Ejiro put a bookmark in his book, set it aside, and took off his reading glasses.  “Do you actually want my opinion, or is this one of those times where you’ve already made up your mind and are just looking for permission?”

Dammit, Eijiro was more perceptive than he gave him credit for.

“I want your opinion, Shitty Hair,” he said.  “I do this, it’s not just my life that’s affected.  It’s you, it’s Katsumi, it’s Tai.”

“Tai’s five,” Eijiro said. “Plus, he can adapt to anything. Worst thing for him will be if he doesn’t get to see Mako and Takeru as much.”

“And Katsumi?  Can’t imagine she wants her old man around every day.”

“Kana manages it with her mom,” Eijiro reminded him.  “Besides… after we thought we might lose you, I think she’d appreciate seeing you a little more often.”

“And what about you?” Katsuki demanded.  “Stop putting everybody else’s needs first and tell me what you think, Shitty Hair.”

Eijiro reached over and took his hand in his own.  He gave it a squeeze.  “Bakubabe. You’re my home.  Wherever you go, I go.  We’ll find a way to make it work.  You need this.  So if you want to do this, I’m behind you, one hundred percent.   We said for better or for worse. It’s the Manly thing to do.”

It sure seemed like a lot of worse right now.  But he didn’t back down from a fight.  

Katsuki nodded and gave Eijiro’s hand a squeeze in return.  “I’m not giving up, understand?  Just a temporary leave of absence to focus on my recovery and pass on a little wisdom.  That’s it. That’s what this is.”

Eijiro gave him a smile. One of his “I’m agreeing with you to allow you to save face, even though we both know you’re bluffing to cover up how afraid you are” smiles.  Eijiro had had a lot of practice with that one over the years.   He knew that if Eijiro truly thought he needed to, he’d call him on the bullshit.  

“Of course, Bakubabe. As long as you think you can do it, I’m with you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?!  Of course I can do it!  Why wouldn’t I be able to do it?!  If All Might or that hobo Aizawa can teach…”

He stopped and gave Eijiro a swat upside the head with his free hand.  “I see what you did there, Shitty Hair.”

There are times, like now, where Katsuki wondered what he did to deserve someone like Eijiro in his life. Questioning that tended to lead down dark paths.  So for now, he was just going to welcome the support.

Him.  A teacher.  It was almost unthinkable.  And yet everyone kept saying he had it in him.  All Might, Eijiro, they all believed in him.

He used to believe in himself.  There were times in his life where he had believed in himself too much, believed in himself to the point of believing he was the center of the universe.  At least that wasn’t the case anymore.

But maybe, just maybe, he could get a little of that belief back.

#my hero academia #their hero academia #katsuki bakugo #eijiro kirishima #all might #fan fiction #fan fic #my writing