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renaerys · 3 years ago

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Prompt 50. But Berserk & Boomer😔👉👈💕

50. “I thought you left.”

We’re calling this one Unfortunately, She Impressed Him. This is a pair of characters I love with all my heart in any flavor of relationship and can’t wait to write more of in my ongoing multi-chapter fic Trinity House over on AO3.

This fic is part of a prompt challenge that is now closed to new requests, but you can read all the completed submissions here. Reminder that the challenge is to make everything SFW, so we’re getting creative here.

xxx

Boomer was halfway across the deserted lobby of Faust Keating Rogers, LLP when he realized he’d forgotten his keys at his desk. He groaned aloud because it was 8 p.m. and no one was around to hear him because they had all gone home to their families hours ago like normal people. Boomer didn’t have two to three kids and a house in the suburbs, though, and neither did his boss. The three hour lull reserved for dinner, baths, and bedtimes before the evening work-from-home grind offered him no alternative but to power through. He fully planned to grab take out on his way home and enjoy an episode of whatever was on HBOMax before getting back to the tedious work of reviewing the draft prospectus statement his boss had sent him to proof by tomorrow morning.

Except, his keys were forty floors up and he now had to risk running into her again when he’d managed to slip away so neatly. He’d even removed his tie on the elevator ride down, and now he rubbed his exposed neck, flushed with anxiety over what might happen if she saw him and asked him to stick around to finish the work here.

“Nice going, dumbass,” he lamented as he stepped onto the elevator and hit the button for the fortieth floor.

It wasn’t that Boomer disliked his job. In fact, he didn’t mind it at all. It was better than slinging drinks or waiting tables. He had health insurance, a steady paycheck, and a resumé that could proudly display the name of one of the most elite accounting firms in the country. He could pivot his career if he wanted to, as Brick would say. Boomer wasn’t thinking about his next job right now, though. Right now, he was thinking about this one and how his boss was a hard-ass and a workaholic even if she was brilliant, and how there was a one hundred percent chance she would detect him coming back to his desk (which was annoyingly set up right in front of her office so that he could answer her calls, manage her meetings, and deal with whoever passed close enough to her event horizon to get suckered into the latest heinous audit in need of staffing).

There were his traitorous keys sitting on the desk next to the framed picture of his brothers. He glared at them, as if they were a forgotten household item that had developed a supernatural grudge like in those old Japanese folktales he liked to read online. He half expected them to jingle and alert his boss to his presence, just to spite him.

They didn’t, and he slipped them into his pocket as quietly as could be. He released the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding and took a beat. It was quiet. Most of the offices were dark, save for a few poor souls in the large conference room stuck on the ongoing year-end audit for one of the firm’s most important clients: Unicorn, Inc. His boss’s office was also lit up behind her closed door, but she hadn’t called out to him like she would during the day when he got back from his lunch break hoping for a few minutes to catch up on emails in peace before she dumped more work on him.

This, of course, was odd. The small legion of assistants who had come before Boomer were notorious for their short-term employment working this specific desk. The work was demanding and so was the boss, but there was something else that set her apart from other senior associates in the International Tax Services division, something that seemed to intimidate away any support the higher ups sent her way. Denise a couple desks down had warned Boomer not to bring too many personal effects to the office; chances were he wasn’t going to last long. Boomer had smiled thinly and thanked Denise for her advice, and brought the picture of his brothers in the next morning because he had his pride and Brick told him it was healthy to indulge that once in a while. Brick would certainly know.

So here he was, uncertain. Anxiety over having to sit here for another two hours finishing work and having tepid Doordash delivered pulled him toward the elevator and escape, while that annoying, rare pride demanded he check on his boss and make sure she knew he was here to support her, lest she get the idea that he needed to be fired.

The longer he stood there, indecisive, the greater his curiosity grew. What was she doing in there? It was quiet, even when he strained his Super hearing. He could hear Dean Matheson pouring whiskey a few offices down (that guy had a drinking problem and everyone knew they only kept him around because he had the Unicorn, Inc. account), Adebayo Hansou on a conference call with Dubai that was escalating to profanity, Shelly Kim with her head down and typing away at an Excel spreadsheet like a pro. Their assistants were long gone for the night, but here was Boomer, loitering and indecisive and what is she doing in there not yelling at me when she definitely knows I’m here?

He couldn’t take it anymore. He knocked on the closed door—rap, rap, rap—and called out softly, “Berserk?”

A beat, then: “Come in.”

Finding his boss in upward facing dog while still in her pencil skirt was not a sight Boomer was prepared for. Berserk had her eyes closed as she stretched at a near ninety degree angle and listened to music on her Airpods. Boomer had never seen her with her heels off and her mane of red hair thrown together in a messy bun; it was so casual that it was almost obscene.

“You’re staring.”

Fuck, he was staring and now she was looking right at him down her nose, even though she was the one on the floor. He stood up straighter, unable to help himself when she took that tone that reminded him so much of Brick’s when he was about to criticize, but he didn’t avert his gaze. “Sorry.”

She breathed in deeply through her nose and hoisted herself up into downward dog position. “Why are you here?”

Forgot my keys seemed like a really lame excuse that she’d probably laugh at him for, but he also was not in the habit of making shit up on the spot if he hoped to make people believe him. “I forgot my keys.” He took them from his pocket to show her, as if she might not know what keys are, as a concept.

“Smart locks.” Berserk exhaled and slowly walked her hands back on the yoga mat until she reached her feet and began to swing slowly left and right.

Huh? he almost said like an idiot, until he caught himself. “Don’t think my landlord would approve of me installing that.” Also, those things were like $200 a pop, which was not worth the occasional inconvenience and shame of forgetting his keys and then catching his boss doing yoga in her office after hours.

Berserk made some noncommittal sound like whatever, peasant and slowly uncurled upward one vertebra at a time. Boomer realized he was back to staring again, literally lingering in her door watching her and trying to equate this subdued, casual version of Berserk with the terse, no-nonsense businesswoman he was used to dealing with on a daily basis.

When she finally achieved her full height, she popped her neck. The hair that was too short for her bun fell in around her narrow face in a stylish, athleisure sort of way. The top buttons on her blouse were undone. She wore a small, golden necklace he’d never noticed before because he wasn’t in the habit of checking out his boss. “I thought you left.”

The accusatory nature of her words were totally at odds with her flat tone, only the barest hint of curiosity dangling there at the end, like she expected him to respond.

Oh, she expected him to respond.

Boomer took another step into her office because he was full of poor judgment today. “I forgot my keys.”

At which point he showed her his keys again and also had a mild stroke, because what the fuck are you doing, mate?

Berserk smiled. “Yeah, I got that part.”

Was she laughing at him? He had never heard her laugh before, unless it was at Dean Matheson, that comb-over in denial who, in addition to being a high functioning alcoholic, also had a reputation for throwing associates under the bus when a client wasn’t happy.

Boomer smiled back, because that was what he did when people smiled at him, and ‘people’ now included Berserk, apparently.

“Well, since you’re here,” she said as she padded around to her desk.

Crap, there was the work he was afraid of soliciting from her by remaining in the building. He debated an excuse to give her: picking up dry cleaning? Plausible, but transparent. Meeting up with his brothers? No, she’d probably make him stay all night for the chance to ruin Brick’s plans.

“Thai or Mexican?”

Boomer stared dumbly. He was becoming quite good at that (10,000 hours and you can become an expert at anything, they say). “Huh?”

The yoga must have put Berserk in an exceedingly gracious mood, because she actually repeated her question without getting that look on her face like she was picturing him getting trampled by stampeding monsters. “Thai or Mexican? I don’t have a preference.”

Oh.

Boomer’s stomach picked that time to snarl at him—8 p.m. and still no dinner, the fiend.

Berserk snorted in laughter and fanned herself with her phone. “Jesus. Mexican it is.”

Which was how Boomer found himself on the small sofa tucked in the corner of Berserk’s office, shoes off and belt loosened, with enough tacos, tamales, and rice and beans to feed a small family. He even had a beer from the mini fridge Berserk kept under her desk.

She hadn’t stayed late to work. Well, she had, but only because she didn’t have a reason to go home.

“I just hate getting home to a dark apartment sometimes,” she said in between bites of food. She had her legs tucked up under her on the sofa close enough to brush Boomer’s thigh if he reached to grab the salsa.

“I thought you lived with your sister?”

“Brute got her own place a few months ago. The arrangement was only temporary while she was in between jobs.”

It was weird knowing so little about a person whose whole family had been in Boomer’s inner orbit since childhood. As far as he knew, Berserk wasn’t close to any of her cousins, not even Blossom. Boomer himself had never been more eager to leave a room than when Brat walked into it. Only Butch, Brute, and Buttercup had ever found common ground among each other once the sworn rivalries and blood feuds of their youth gave way to teenage rebellion against their respective overlord fathers and then the slog of adulthood that was inescapable even for a bunch of Supers flying high on Chemical X.

The fact that Boomer had gotten this job surprised him more than anyone. After drifting from restaurant jobs to office temp placements over the last six years, he’d never thought he would dust off his economics degree and land a temp-to-permanent position that seemed way above his qualifications. And he never thought it would be working for a woman he’d most definitely electrocuted in battle at least a dozen times before puberty.

“What?”

Boomer blinked. He’d been staring again, Jesus Christ. “Sorry, I was just thinking… I didn't know that. I’ve been working here for five months and I don’t actually know much about you at all.”

“Hm.”

Her magenta eyes were wine-dark against the murky sky beyond the window forty stories up. Boomer did avert his gaze this time to reach for the salsa, but he didn’t use it.

“I don’t even know why you invited me to stay for dinner in the office if we’re not going to do any work.”

“Why did you stay?”

“For the free food.”

Berserk grinned—the third time she had smiled at him tonight (or ever). He needed to stop counting; he’d be disappointed when it stopped happening tomorrow.

“Don’t get used to it. Much as I appreciate the company now and again, there’s no need for both of us to be stuck here while Matheson’s breathing down the associates’ necks. Can’t have him poaching you out from under me.”

“Well, I don’t work for him; I work for you.”

“It’s sweet how you don’t understand office politics.” She ate a lone slice of avocado with a fork. “He landed Unicorn back when they were early stage, and back when he was still putting in the work to earn his reputation. But since they IPO’d three years ago and make up twenty percent of our revenue now, he’s just another big name coasting by on associate work. You know he regularly schedules client calls and just doesn’t bother to show up? He forgets half the time, and the other half he’s busy playing golf or buying a yacht or whatever the fuck rich, white Boomers do.”

“Well, as a Boomer myself, I can say I’ve spent exactly zero hours buying yachts.”

She chuckled. Fourth time. “Oh, really.”

“Never even thought of yachts. As far as I’m concerned, they’re not even real.”

“Thanks for your expert opinion.”

“Any time.” Boomer turned his body to face her and draped his arm over the back of the sofa. With only the soft light from the floor lamp in the corner, he imagined himself adrift in the darkness, the sky scraper lights nearby stars. It was a lonely thought, one made romantic in the knowledge that she was here too, and he wasn’t actually alone.

“Matheson almost did poach you, you know.”

“What do you mean?” Boomer couldn’t recall exchanging more than a few words with the man.

“When we were filling support positions. Someone recognized you from the news a few years back, when the Cyclops Monster attacked the marina district and you and your brothers took it out. Matheson got it in his head that you’d be able to work at Super speed and help lower his billables.”

“Wow. Maybe you should’ve let him. What do you think the net savings would be in yacht units of measurement?”

Berserk rolled her eyes, but she was smiling again. “I claimed you before he could get the paperwork in.”

Boomer hyper-focused on that word: claimed. He also pointedly ignored it entirely, much in the same way he ignored the new count of five smiles tonight. “Showed him your bending powers, did you?”

Berserk’s Corona bottle turned frosty under her hand in a totally unnecessary, big dick energy display of said powers, and she took another sip. “No. Sharon from HR likes me. And I promised her I wouldn’t fire you after three months like your predecessors.”

Flattered was not how Boomer would describe the feeling of being claimed by Berserk and eluding Matheson’s vampiric clutches. But he was a bit tickled all the same. This was the woman Butch had once described as essentially Brick, if he were constipated all the time.

And then he realized what she was doing. “Hey, you’re sharing things about yourself.”

She clinked her bottle to his, and Boomer shivered at the frosty chill she transferred on contact. “Aw, you figured it out all by yourself.”

“Ha ha.”

She didn’t quite smile, but she did look kind of serene then, content even, as she lay back against the arm of the sofa and yawned. Her gold necklace—just a simple disk with an engraving Boomer could not make out—reflected the lamp light when she moved. It rested just beneath her collarbone, which had suddenly become the single-most interesting part of Berserk, and oh no, was he interested—

“You’re staring again.”

Son of a bitch.

“Sorry,” he said automatically. “I didn’t mean to.”

Hard no. He was not allowed to be any percent attracted to Berserk. First, she was his boss, and there was a cliché here that, while subverted on the gender role spectrum, was still very risky for both of them. Second, she was Berserk, a fellow Super, cousin to his best friend Bubbles and a shrewd, stiletto bitch in Brick’s estimation, which sounded bad. Not that she was bad, or even evil, unless you counted helping rich corporations accurately report their taxes while taking advantage of the many egregious loopholes in the Internal Revenue Code. Which, okay, point taken, but he also worked here and anyway, people should not be deemed good or evil so much as their choices ought to be—

“Are you thinking about fucking me?”

You shrewd, stiletto bitch!

She was smiling again, and Boomer pathetically logged that as the sixth time, although he wasn’t sure he should count it given the overt malice behind it.

Unfortunately, Boomer was, as had been previously established, very bad at making shit up on the fly. So he miserably said, “Yeah.”

“Hm.”

She sipped her beer slowly, and of course he watched. If it was out in the open, as fleeting a bout of insanity as it may have been, at least he could wallow in it without worrying about appearances.

It was the yoga. That fucking upward facing dog, Jesus Christ.

It was more than that too. Over the last few months, he had worked closely with her, watched her navigate the cutthroat halls full of piranhas like Matheson and other account managers, getting herself work on the best clients while managing her juniors with efficiency and professionalism. She was excellent and sharp, and she demanded excellency and sharpness in kind. After years of going it alone or temping for bosses who didn’t care enough even to learn his name, much less provide him with guidance and mentorship, it was an unspeakable relief to work under someone who knew how to rally the troops. Someone who knew how to lead, how to motivate, and how to reward loyalty with loyalty in return. It didn’t hurt that she looked amazing in her daily stilettos, either.

Unfortunately, she impressed him.

“I have some work to get done tonight.” Berserk stood up and smoothed her skirt.

Boomer scrambled to his feet. “Of course! Um.” He began closing food containers and repackaging them in the bags they’d come in, because he was panicking. “I’ll get rid of the trash. Do you want the leftovers in the fridge?”

“You take them. Otherwise my office will smell like a burrito for a week.”

“Okay.” Numbly, Boomer finished packing everything up, while Berserk made her way back to her desk and logged into her computer to check her emails.

Boomer lingered at the door. “I’ll have the prospectus back to you later tonight.”

“Thanks.”

Wow, way to go, stud.

He turned to leave, but her voice stopped him.

“Boomer?”

“Yeah?”

“Friday is good.”

He stared back at her in expert mode. “Huh?”

Berserk poked her head around the side of her large, external monitor. She was smiling again. Lucky number seven. “For fucking.”

“Okay,” Boomer said.

Okay?!

She pulled back behind her monitor. “I was going to get a cat, but you’ll do much better.”

Because she didn’t like going home to a dark, empty apartment alone. With no one to fuck.

“That was a joke.”

“Yeah, I got that,” he croaked.

Friday is for fucking, he thought, which was delightful alliteration and also completely insane and one hundred percent something he was getting more on board with by the nanosecond.

“See you tomorrow,” she said.

Boomer clutched the leftover Mexican food in his fist. “Okay. Goodnight.”

It took him the time to fly home and put the food away in his small fridge to realize that he had a sort-of date with Berserk lined up for two days from now.

He Y-posed at the window and whooped, “Hell yes!!”

Loud pounding in the floor followed by old Mrs. Cruikshank’s muffled Keep it down! couldn’t bring down his mood.

Boomer leaped onto his threadbare, living room sofa with his work laptop and took to the prospectus with alacrity. He’d send over superior work product and make Berserk’s job just that much easier tomorrow morning.

xxx

If you enjoy my writing, check out more of my fics on AO3, link in my profile. I’m currently updating Trinity House (which has a lot more Berserk and Boomer content, btw!) and The Alchemy of Us. Thanks for reading!

#powerpuff girls #powerpuff girls fanfic #bersoomer #ppg berserk #ppg boomer #september fic prompts #so this turned into a 3k one shot because i love these characters and i couldn't help myself #tfw considering a part 2

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dingoat · 4 years ago

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[So, @cinlat has been dabbling in a Sith au for her Fynta, with cameo slots available for various other characters to come hang out. And just the little bit of contemplation we had about where Ahuska might slot into this particular version of events, I wound up inspired enough to dabble with a scene! So welcome to an Ahuska who still wound up adopted into Mandalorian life, but has not forgotten/repressed her early years. Rather than their usual easy friendship, she and Fynta wind up butting heads more often than not and bumping into one another more than either would like. Apologies if I’ve gotten Fynta totally wrong, I will put up a disclaimer that I’m throwing this out here without any sort of proofing from Cinlat so she gets the final call as to the authenticity of this scene! I’ve also borrowed @askshivanulegacy’s Blakk for the ride, I think I needed a little cathartic fluff to counterbalance all the fluff-gone-wrong happening elsewhere hahahaha.]

‘Not on My Watch’

“I don’t know why you won’t just let me take a speeder…”

Ahuska lifted a hand to cut him off, raising a finger and shaking her head with a smile. It was no secret that the young bothan was soft for this particular Imperial Agent, even if her clanmates were quick to remind her that no self respecting human Kaas citizen would pursue anything more than a functional work relationship with her, a rudderless, stable-working alien.

She chose not to listen to what her clanmates had to say.

“Because a speeder won’t pull back when it feels the ice getting too thin or warn you when you cross a wampa’s path, that’s why.”

Cipher Blakk rolled his eyes and pulled the zipper of his insulated parka higher, but it still wasn’t enough to keep his face properly protected from the frankly absurd level of chill. “It’s not as though I plan to park on an ice sheet…”

“Uh huh, and you’ll know exactly what’s under the two inch layer of snow that’s just fallen…”

He huffed, and she laughed, opening the stall door against which she was leaning to lead out the young tauntaun buck she already had saddled and haltered. “Quit fretting. Thunder here is a solid ride and a soft touch, he won’t give you any problems, and I’d trust him over any autopilot to get you safely back to base if something goes wrong.” Blakk felt some unexpected warmth rise in his cheeks, and while he wondered for the thousandth time why she cared so much that he got back safely, the buck lowered his head to snuffle through Ahuska’s hair. She raised a hand to give the tauntaun a firm rub on the cheek and horn. “Yeah, you’re a good boy aren’t you? You’ll be good for the Empire’s elite, won’t you? Won’t you my good soft woolly buddy…”

Ahuska’s ears flicked at the same moment as Thunder’s twitched, and a heartbeat later Blakk’s head turned as well, hearing the heavy rasp of an iron gate lifting.

Ahuska had been stationed on the remote Hoth outpost for the last month and a half, more than enough time to get to know the sound of every latch and door in the stables, and the animals that spent their lives here knew them even better. Her sky blue eyes turned to ice as she squinted, staring down into the lower level. “Who… oh.”

Her lips turned to a tight, flat line as she recognised the figure down below, and the coolness in her expression was enough to prompt Blakk to lift a brow. “Ahh, is something the matter…?”

“We’ll see. What is she… oh, oh no, no no no…”

The Cipher suddenly found himself with a set of reins thrust into his hands, with Ahuska taking the liberty of closing his fingers around them and squeezing tight. “What… what are you…?”

“Hold him. Hold him tight and don’t let go for a second, distract him with this if you can…” She shoved a pinkish rock of some sort toward him, and with his hands full he was forced to stoop and hold it under his chin, expression nothing short of bewildered.

“I don’t… oh, gods no,” Blakk had the profound discomfort of realising then that it was a block of salt, as Thunder pressed forward with an eager little warble and began to lick at it. He made a tiny sound of dismay. “Ahuska…!”

But she was already gone, not even sticking around to have a snigger at his predicament, darting down the stairwell rather than waiting on one of the stocklifts. “Oi! Oi, di’kut, what’n Kad’s name do you think you’re doing---!!”

The object of Ahuska’s anger turned, unnaturally blue eyes flashing with irritation, and then immediately turned back to the stall door she’d been about to open.

“Don’t you dare touch that! Who the hell authorized you to be down here and what the shab d’you think you’re doing opening straight up into the yards?” Rather than heading straight toward the Sith, Ahuska veered to the far wall where a harsh wind blustered through the now gaping entry to the outdoor paddocks, and slammed her fist against a set of controls.

“This animal is… Shen-Four-Seven, isn’t it?” Fynta Wolfe, Assassin for Sith Intelligence and Infiltration, glared at the Bothan stablekeep who stood firm in the gateway, as though she could somehow block her passage while the heavy gate groaned back shut. She cut a strong silhouette against the glaring white world outside, framed with reflected light and fluttering snowflakes.

“Star, yeah, that’s her.” Ahuska’s tone was curt. She didn’t enjoy dealing with Fynta any more than she explicitly had to. Never mind that the Sith knew far more about her than Ahuska was comfortable with, but the fact that Fynta thought she could just slip on some beskar and mingle amongst the clans as though she weren’t an out-and-out Sith grated at her terribly. The nerves struck were just… a little too close to home.

“Then she’s the one I’ve been assigned while I’m on duty here. And since I’m not here to take riding lessons, I don’t see why I need to answer to you of all people, stablekeep.”

Ahuska bristled as the steel gate locked shut behind her, putting an abrupt halt to the chill wind. “Maybe ‘cause every last one of these animals has been assigned to me while I’m on duty here, and I don’t give a damn if you’re the Emperor himself, you don’t take one outside without my say-so. Not a taun, not a vulp, not a gods-damned arctic womp-weasel! So you can take your fingers off that latch and let me do my job, or you can deal with the shab’la stampede you’re about to let loose. It’s stable master, by the way.”

Fynta knew Ahuska wasn’t the type to lie for the sake of a power trip. The bothan’s conviction and ferocity at this moment was enough to give her pause and slowly arch a brow, though her tone was flat and unconvinced. “Stampede. You mean the whole three out in the main yard.”

“Mmm.” Ahuska’s tone was equally flat, but there was something smug about the way she lifted her chin and stared down the bridge of her muzzle toward the Sith. “Those three first, if Thunder up on the balcony doesn’t fling himself over to beat them to it.” She gestured upward and over her shoulder with a thumb, toward where Blakk diligently kept a firm but wary hold of the tauntaun buck Ahuska had left in his care. The agent swiftly averted his gaze when he realised attention had momentarily turned his way. “Then the seven in the exercise yards ‘cause let’s face it, those fences aren’t gonna stop a buck in rut, and maybe the dozen in the outer…”

“Excuse me?”

“Excuse what?”

“A buck in rut?”

“I said what I said. I know it doesn’t look much like the seasons change here on Hoth, but believe me, there are seasons, and we’re in the thick of one right now. Your little Star there…” Ahuska dipped her head toward the stall door that Fynta remained precariously close to opening, though to her credit her fingers were looser on the handle than they had been moments before. “Is a very, very appealing little lady at the moment. She gets lead out through the back to be worked in the yards on the south ridge or not at all, and when she’s being groomed and treated in here this gate…” She slapped the metal surface behind her with the back of her hand. “Stays shut! I wouldn’t even recommend her for a mission today or tomorrow unless you were absolutely certain of no wild herds en route and let’s face it, you can never be certain of that…”

Fynta hadn’t exactly paled, but she was definitely looking less confident about taking her assigned mount out onto the slopes. She found herself feeling unwittingly grateful that the blasted bothan had been here to intercept her, and then an equal measure of furious at herself for feeling grateful at all. “Alright, alright, fierfek, just get me a more suitable animal ready as soon as you can, I’ve wasted enough time here already…”

“Of course, my Lord,” Ahuska’s grin was far too toothy, her flourished salute and bow far too exaggerated to be genuine. She enjoyed watching Fynta bite back her seething a little too much. “And let me know what shebs-for-brains gave you Star to begin with so I can have some words.”

“I’ll try to find out,” Fynta lied. No way in hell was she going to let Ahuska know that, in a bid to get herself in and out of Hoth as swiftly as possible, she might have forged a signature or two on a requisition document here and there, and arbitrarily assigned the tauntaun to herself. She straightened, stepping away from the stall, and stared Ahuska squarely in the eye. “I’ll be back in ten minutes. Don’t keep me waiting.”

She didn’t give Ahuska the opportunity to respond, making her way smartly off down a corridor. The bothan might come across as meek as a runt nerf calf most of the time, but Force be damned if she didn’t find a spine and a half where her animals were concerned. Fynta couldn’t decide whether she was impressed or irritated, and just found herself hoping that Ahuska would be able to find the same amount of backbone if anyone ever pressed her about matters that remained better left unspoken.

She really didn’t want to see another decent Mandalorian having their arm twisted into Imperial service.

Ahuska, meanwhile, had every intention of keeping Fynta waiting; she had another Agent of the Empire to finish dealing with first, and she wasn’t going to rush seeing Blakk and Thunder off soundly for the sake of a single agitated Sith. Her hackles were already smooth and the set of her ears fully relaxed by the time she made it back to the upper level, though the way Blakk’s wide-eyed gaze settled on her when she flashed him a grin threatened to dishevel her all over again.

“Didn’t give you any trouble, did he?”

“No, you were great- I mean he, he was great. Thunder was… great. Perfect. No trouble.”

Ahuska might have plenty of backbone when it mattered, but that didn’t stop certain moments making her utterly weak. She coughed into her hand, glancing aside as she took back the reins and returned the remains of the salt lick to her pocket. “Ahh, uh, right, good. Good! Where have you got your gear then? Better get him all loaded up for you.”

---

[And now a bonus for everyone who got this far, hahaha, have some zipped up Hoth geared little Imperials. Ahuska thinks they’re both ridiculous for complaining so much about the cold.]

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fanfictrashdump · 3 years ago

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Don’t abuse it | Matt Murdock (Universe in a Jar Aside)

SUMMARY: Set in the same timeline as “Universe in a Jar”, a quick blurb of how Matt and Seph met. Matt Murdock always got away with his innocent, blind lawyer routine. It just takes one person, a little different like him, to spot his tells.

New to Universe in a Jar? Start HERE or check the Masterlist HERE

XXX

Persephone looked across the hallway, finding it blissfully empty at an astounding 3:45 am. She was supposed to have finished her shift four and a half hours ago, but lord knows that New York never really lived up to its promises. She had an ex-best friend, mountains of trauma and high-functioning depression to attest to that. Body and mind aching, she reached for the doorknob to the utility closet, hoping to shorten the time of her commute by opening a portal to her apartment rather than taking the train all the way back to the Bronx. She had nearly gotten the door open when one of the ER nurses skidded to a stop at the end of the corridor.

“Oh my gosh, yes! You haven’t left, yet.” The nurse clocked the furrowed brow and the near choked sob and returned a pitiful pout. “Please. He’s a frequent flyer.”

“There’s other doctors who can–“

“He’s blind. It’s throwing up all sorts of red flags.”

Seph sighed, throwing her head back to stare at the ceiling with a silent prayer that someone, something come free her of her misery. It didn’t happen, so she crossed the hallway. “Clean up?”

“He needs stitches.”

“Oh, joy,” she mocked, deadpan. “Prep a suture kit and I’ll go grab a coat.”

“Perfect. Curtain two.”

The nurse grinned, scattering off while Seph moodily went to one of the random desks where she stashed her things in the nurses’ station. The coat she grabbed was wrinkled, but clean and when she tugged it on, it was easier to disguise the hitches and gnarls in the fabric. Not that it mattered, considering her patient, but she wanted everyone in her care to get her in her best form.

This was definitely not it.She pulled back the curtain and paused in shock, Whatever she was expecting, it was not this. Usually, red flags came with bruises but they were few or concealed. Not this guy. He had been, for lack of a better word, pummeled.

The man was young, dark hair worn short but sticking out in all directions after a tussle. His lip was still trickling blood, but there was an open wound on his cheekbone that was far more worrisome. His round, red tinted glasses did little to disguise the injury, though she wasn’t sure he had been.

“You’ve got quite the shiner, there, buddy.”

He made a noise like a startled little laugh. His head twitched to the side as his mouth tugged upward in a smirk. “You should, er, you should see the other guy.” He paused, making a face of feigned thought. “At least I think it was another guy. It might have also been me walking into a plate-glass door.”

Seph smiled, settling in the stool across from him and pulling on her gloves. “Ouch. Buddy boy. You look rough.”

“And here I thought I wasn’t going to get any bedside manner.”

“I’ve been on my shift for twenty seven hours. Bedside manner only lasts for the first fifteen…”

“Matt. My name is Matt.”

“My bedside manner only lasts for the first fifteen, Matt.” She over his head this way and that, gently debriding the wound. “Yeah, you’re going to need stitches for this.”

“I’m not a fan.”

“Neither am I, if I’m honest.” She complained to herself as she set up her suture kit.

“You don’t like doing stitches and even though you’re tired, you’re not being harsh. How’d I get flagged by Psych?”

Seph laughed, letting out a long, drawn out sigh in response. “Buddy, what did you not do to get flagged?”

“I’m blind. I’m clumsy. I’m–ow, ow, ow”They were quiet as Seph injected anesthetic along the wound and though he protested the lidocaine, he did not complain as she started threading neat (if a little lopsided) stitches along his face.

“You know, when I was in med school, I took a class about forensic examinations. It helps you look at patients critically to learn the secrets they’re too afraid to tell you. Bruising pattern is a big one,” she remarked, softly. “Fists leave a discernible pattern to those who know what to look for. You can see the shape and size of the hand, the subtle differences in color from the bruising from where the knuckles collide.” She gently traced her glove over his cheekbone. “Especially near the orbital rim where there’s less coverage over the bone. I would say, oh, six foot two. Maybe two hundred and fifty pounds.”

She finished the row of stitches with a flourish.

“At least the one that punched you in the face.” Matt frowned in response, clearly not used to being found out this way. “You’re favoring your right side while sitting. Are your ribs OK?”

He smiled, though it turned to a short wince when his stitches pulled. “A little tender, but I’ll live.”

“Was it someone you know?”

“What? No. I-I’m not being… I am not in any danger, if that’s what you mean.”

“OK, OK. Good. You just have a lot of incidents. I need to ask these things, OK?” Her voice was still gentle and kind while she washed over the area and the remainder of his wounds. “Maybe you shouldn’t always fight back, though.” She took his hands to clean his raw knuckles.

“They don’t give me a choice.”

“Sometimes you need to make yourself a choice.” Seph gestured with her hand and knocked over the bowl of sterile saline off the prep table.

Before it could clatter on the ground, it was being held aloft by Matt who all of a sudden looked confused and more than a little panicked.

“I’m, er, used to knocking things and… yeah.” He shifted in the cot and huffed out a breath. “Are we done?”

Persephone, still trying to get her bearings, nodded. It was a moment before she added, “Yeah. We’re done. I’ll get your release papers. Sit tight.”

Persephone dumped her gloves and walked over to the nurses’ station to clear all the holds on Matt’s medical record. The lights from the television set overhead caught her attention. The story of the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen was being loudly announced. She watched the far-off, grainy footage of a man, fighting off a handful of criminals, one of them smacking the masked vigilante in the ribs with a length of pipe and then punching him dead in the face.

She froze, staring over at her curtain, where Matt sat, swinging his feet under the cot, pretending he wasn’t catching every single detail of the room.

“Too Much gene. I always get the ones with the Too Much gene,” she whispered, scratching notes onto her file. She peeked out of the corner of her eye at her patient who seemed to be restraining a smile. “Right, Matt?” Another whisper, but the smirk died off his face, regardless.

She put the last of the papers together, printing them out on the braille printer. She walked back with papers and pen in hand. “Here you go,” she gave him the papers. “Sign at the bottom, please.” She placed a pen in his hand with a soft smile. Seph watched him sign the papers and stuff the rest in his pocket with a polite smile. “For you. Just in case.” She put the extra strip of paper in his pocket. “Have a good night, Matt. Stay out of trouble.”

Matt frowned, reaching into his pocket to the smaller strip of paper. On it was a series of numbers, the name Persephone Hale, and a message: Don’t abuse it, Daredevil.

#Mcu fan fiction #fan fiction #Mcu Matt Murdock #Mcu daredevil #original female character #Universe in a jar #side story #Matt Murdock #daredevil

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nyctolovian · 4 years ago

Text

Chapter 16: easy being nice to a bitter boy like him

Welp! I just thought it’d be cool if I posted fic on my birthday. So here’s a milestone chapter of sorts haha

Summary: Shouto's doubts grow

Chapter 1

Bakugou woke up incredibly cranky, even by his usual standards. Shouto was made aware of this by the colourful swearing Bakugou let out when he stubbed his toe on the foot of the bed in the morning. This was followed by a loud slam of the door as Bakugou exited the room to head to the shared toilets.

The two headed to the dormitory’s cafeteria for breakfast (a sandwich, yoghurt and a chocolate-y drink called Milo). The sort of silence they had, which would usually be calm, was now stiff, like Bakugou was looking for the next thing to metaphorically or physically blow up. Shouto didn’t quite want to stand in the way of that.

Then, as they stood at the pickup point, waiting for Preeta to pick them up, Shouto finally asked, “Is something bothering you?”

Bakugou let out a gruff “nah”.

That was a lie and Shouto could smell from a mile away. He frowned at Bakugou in deep thought. However, before he could ask another question, Preeta’s yellow car drove into the pickup stop. Hesitantly, Shouto dropped the subject when he and Bakugou got in the car and Preeta greeted them with a wide, sunny smile. "Are you ready for Day 1 of hero-ing Singaporean style?"

Shouto nodded nervously while Bakugou let out a hum that wasn't quite in assent or disagreement.

"Tough crowd," she huffed out, curling her fingers around the steering wheel. "No worries. You're gonna have a blast at my office, I assure you."

As they travelled, the supervisor gave a quick rundown of what interning under her would entail. Preeta and Co. Hero Offices was located on an entire floor in one of the many office buildings in the central business district. Preeta explained, "We mostly deal with combat situations within that area. It's a hotspot for villains that really want to wreck things big time."

As they drove into the district, Shouto spotted countless skyscrapers and interesting sculptures around. He had heard that there were many important expensive buildings in the area so property damage was apparently a big deal as well. He was slightly worried by this. If there was one thing about their fighting styles that Shouto could call a similarity, it might possibly be the destruction. He and Bakugou didn't exactly have the best track record for keeping fights in their lanes after all.

Soon, Preeta parked in the underground carpark of a fairly unremarkable office building and took a lift from the car park up to the office. As soon as the lift slid open to their destination, they were greeted with a frenzied girl rushing towards them. "Oh my god!" She side-stepped, letting them out. "New interns?" she asked in English, brushing her messy blue hair behind her ear.

"Yeah," Preeta replied. She glanced at the folders the girl was clutching as she darted into the elevator and slammed her thumb into the button. "Documents for HeroTech again?"

"Yah lah!" she whined, pulling a face of agony. "Who else?"

Preeta rolled her eyes at the closing lift doors. "That's Charlene by the way. You'll talk to her a lot in the future."

Shouto glanced back at the closed doors. He barely remembered what she looked like already. Sometimes he wished he had better facial recognition skills. Also, Shouto was about 75% certain that was her first name. This felt wildly different from what he is used to…

Bakugou nudged his back, bringing his attention back to their supervisor, who had already walked past the empty reception desk. She pressed her finger on a scanner to unlock the door that led to an open plan office.

It was chaotic with people discussing things or typing away at their computers. Some of them were in office wear, some in casual clothes, and others in their hero costumes. With a quick glance around the room, Shouto estimated a head count of about 15 other people.

"Attention!" Preeta's voice boomed across the room, capturing the attention of everyone. "We have two new interns, Bakugou Katsuki and Todoroki Shouto from UA, Japan. They'll be with us for three months." She gave them both a look and made a sweeping motion, urging them to introduce themselves.

Shouto tried his best to articulate himself in the foreign language, "Hello. My name is Todoroki Shouto. I am 17 years old. Um… My quirk is um…" He held his palms up and simultaneously created a flame and a shard of ice. "My hero name is Shouto. Nice to meet you."

Someone started clapping and the others followed suit. Shouto stiffly nodded and pursed his lips.

Next was Bakugou. "I'm Bakugou Katsuki. 18 years old. My quirk is Explosion and my hero name is DynaMight. I'll be the Number One Top Hero."

Shouto narrowed his eyes at him. Did he really need to say that?

Bakugou's eyes made contact with his for a while before he added somewhat reluctantly, "Nice to meet you."

His greeting was also met with an applause and a short hoot. Meanwhile, Preeta grinned at him and said, "Someone's got more guts than I thought! I like that!" She glanced around the room and said, "Everyone except Charlene is here."

Someone from the corner confirmed that statement.

"Ok! Good! Saves time!" she said, clapping her hands together. "Introduce yourselves as well!"

One by one, the others introduced themselves with their names, positions, and their quirks. Some added special information about themselves and cracked a few jokes that garnered some chuckles in the office. However, between trying to get used to English comprehension, the unusual names and many different information, Shouto's head was swirling. Names and faces seemed to seep out of his brain as the introductions continued.

By the time Preeta smiled down at the two new interns and suggested introducing them to the office facilities, Shouto had already forgotten everyone's names.

Still, he silently followed Preeta as she told them where the pantry, toilets, sick bay, function rooms and her private office were. Then, they walked around the already chattering employees to a steel door behind the large table. There was another fingerprint scanner that Preeta used. "We'll have to get your prints later. This stuff is just a safety precaution. Hero work can get pretty sensitive. Plus, we have expensive equipment." She swung open the door to the most spacious room yet – the training gym.

With its light blue walls, the room looked more vibrant than the rest of the office. Natural light also streamed in from its wide windows, which displayed a view of the city skyline, like a reminder of why they do their work. The equipment, while not as grand as Endeavor Hero Agency’s, was still not to be sneezed at, from its high-tech temperature-regulators to an obstacle course with elements customisable to one’s training needs. There was a large first-aid kit and defibrillator beside the benches and a fire extinguisher fixed upon each corner of the room.

"This is where you will likely begin and end your day. Warm-up in the morning, and self-training in the evening." Preeta smiled as she pointed to a door with her thumb. "The lockers are just over there. Now, get into hero mode, chop chop! I want to see what the two of you can offer on the field."

***

There was a wide grin on Preeta's face when the boys were done showcasing what they could do. "Not bad! Not bad at all!" she said, clapping her hands in appreciation. "We will be working together just fine, I think."

"How about you show us what you've got?" Bakugou said, crossing his arms. He lifted an eyebrow at her challengingly. "Would like to see how *you* fare on the field."

Of course, Bakugou would do something abrasive at some point. Truthfully, however, Shouto would say he was expecting this side of Bakugou to show much earlier. Perhaps that was a testament to what a strange mood Bakugou has been in since this morning.

Luckily, Preeta didn't seem to take any offense in his tone. She just threw her head back and laughed boisterously. "Of course!" she said. She pulled her hair back and her nimble fingers secured the dark red locks in a tight bun. With her originally mid-back length hair tied up, Shouto could see an intriguing feature of her costume.

It was already fairly interesting when she first stepped out from the locker room, changed into her hero attire. Despite her extremely colourful casual outfits, her hero costume was entirely black. She wore black boots, a black jacket, a black pair of pants, and a black undershirt. The only thing that stood out at first were the big black bracelets that resembled Uraraka's. On her back was a metal fixture with six cylindrical tubes sticking out behind her, and behind those tubes was her bare brown skin.

Shouto found this all very curious. This costume must have been designed like this to serve a purpose… but what was it?

As though she read his mind, Preeta said, "How about a little quiz for you two?" She stabbed her hair with several more bobby pins. "Take a guess what my quirk is exactly."

Bakugou made no reaction and Shouto just nodded quietly.

Taking in a deep breath, Preeta swung her arms. Then, she spread them out and leapt to the air. There was a gust of hot air that pushed Shouto and Bakugou back slightly.

They straightened back up to see Preeta shooting upwards like a rocket. Her muscled arms swung forward to grab a slab of metal that hung from above. As soon as she made contact with it, the metal bent to fit the shape of her hands, glowing red-hot. With the momentum, she swung forward and landed with a roll on a lower hanging platform. The spot on the metal that she had grabbed had the marks of her fingers and no longer looked molten. Shouto's eyes widened in intrigue and Bakugou let out a short hum.

Preeta was on her feet before their focus could return to her and, when they did, she was bounding to the other end of the suspended platform. She grabbed a wooden block from a stack at the side and drew her hand back.

The wood burst into flames and she hurled it across the gym, and accurately into a pail of water. Nodding, she leapt off the platform and grabbed onto a pole near the walls and slid down quickly with one arm.

When she was on the floor again, she flashed the two a grin. "That's the gist of what I can do. My abilities are most practical in a real-life scenario to be honest. So," she folded her hands in front of her chest, "take a guess what my quirk is."

"It's heat-related," Shouto mumbled to himself.

"That's a given in my office."

Meanwhile, Bakugou narrowed his eyes. "Is…"

Shouto's eyes followed his gaze to the coated metal pole. He frowned. There were water droplets forming upon it. He took a step closer to it and placed his hand on the pole. "It's cold." Shouto's eyes widened. "Is it like mine?"

"No, not really. I can't just create fire and ice like you."

Bakugou grinned triumphantly. "So it's some heat transfer thing."

"Impressive," Preeta commended. "What else can you tell me about my quirk then?"

"It relies on contact?" Shouto suggested.

"Yes, and...?"

Shouto frowned in thought, as did Bakugou. Bakugou hazard a guess, "Do you store the heat in your body?"

"Nope," she said. "It's all stored in these babies." She tapped the cylindrical bracelets on her wrists against each other. "Insulate against the external climate but in direct contact with my skin."

Curious, Shouto asked, "But how did you shoot through the air?"

"Rapid gas expansion in the cylindrical structures on my back," Preeta explained.

Wide-eyed, Shouto nodded. Bakugou's air of skepticism was also lifted as he looked at Preeta in silent admiration.

"You two are pretty impressive, I must say," Preeta said. "UA really is UA, huh?"

“Preetaaa!” someone interrupted with a sing-song voice. A familiar blue-haired lady popped in.

Shouto was mildly surprised to find himself recognising her as Charlene from the elevator.

Looking towards the entrance, Preeta shouted back, "Yah?"

“Your darling is here!”

Preeta turned to goo as she laughed nervously. "Oh my god," she said. "I just– Well, you two–" She buried her face in her hands for a second as she let out a groan. "Just… stay here. I'll be right back." She made a beeline for the exit and stopped in her tracks right outside the gym. Her face broke into a smile. Preeta's hands were even more animated than before as she began to talk to a rather plump lady just beyond the entrance. The lady's back was towards them but Shouto could spot her handing a small tin box to Preeta, who smiled apologetically. It looked like a bento.

Shouto found his eyes sliding towards Bakugou. “What are they saying?” he asked as he peered towards Charlene.

“Harh? How the hell would I know?”

“Aren’t you always eavesdropping others’ conversations?”

Sighing, Bakugou shot him a glare. “Don’t say that as if I hear your stupid-ass conversations on purpose.”

“Do you not?” he teased.

Bakugou shoved him. “Die, asshole,” he said, rolling his eyes. The exasperated fondness did not escape Shouto's notice.

“Hey, hey,” Charlene interrupted. “I may not understand Japanese but I know fighting when I hear it.”

“Ah,” Shouto replied in English, as he raised his hand up in refutation. “It’s okay. That’s… um… just the way he usually is.”

Bakugou jabbed Shouto’s side harshly, drawing a yelp out of him. “You’re un-fucking-believable."

“Are your interns arguing already? On the first day?” the lady Preeta was speaking to said as she spun around to look at the commotion.

Shouto froze.

The skin of her face had a familiar leathery and discoloured quality to it. Her face was of a darker shade compared to the rest of her body, which was pale. And Shouto found his fingers tracing the scar on his own face.

Those were burn scars. But unlike his, it stretched over her entire face.

“They’re not fighting, they said,” Charlene replied, pulling Shouto back from his dazed state.

“I hope not." Preeta peered back into the gym. When it didn't seem like they were ready to murder each other, she said, "Love, do you want to meet the new interns?"

The scarred woman exclaimed, “Okay!" She walked swiftly into the gym in her high heels, Preeta following close behind. “I’m Kaiqi. Preeta’s girlfriend.”

Bakugou stepped in front of Shouto, hands nonchalantly in his pockets. “I’m Bakugou Katsuki. And he is Todoroki Shouto. We’re both from UA in Japan.”

"Nice to meet the both of you. I hope you'll have an amazing time in Singapore. Even though it's an internship, I think it'd be good to have some fun," she said.

Now that she was closer, Shouto could see the burn scars better now. Such as the way her smile was a little lopsided from the odd swelling in her face. She didn't have any eyebrows or eyelashes either.

The only burn victims Shouto knew were himself and his father. However, while both of their scars were on their face, neither of them had burns as severe as hers, and not over as large an area. He couldn't help but wonder: how did she get those burn scars?

Preeta’s face twisted as though her foot had been stepped on. At that, Kaiqi rested her hand on her girlfriend’s elbow and asked, “What did he say?”

That was when Shouto realised he had spoken aloud. He blinked in shock. Bakugou spun around, staring, and mouthed, "Idiot."

It looked like pulling teeth as Preeta translated what he said into English.

Shouto felt a surge of shame as he apologised for the question.

"It's fine," Kaiqi said, waving her hand. "I get asked about it quite often anyway. It was during a scuffle with a small-time criminal I was chasing after. He overloaded my quirk, which stores heat in my hair, and just caused it to catch fire."

"You're a hero?" Shouto asked.

Laughing, she said, "Used to be but not anymore. I've essentially lost my quirk." She pulled her bangs up to reveal that it was a wig.

His eyes widened. "Oh. I-I'm sorry."

"It's alright, really. You learn to live with things, right?" she said, directing a kind smile at Shouto. "It's been more than 10 years now so I'm fine!" She flexed her arm with a grin.

The dark look on Preeta's face, however, said otherwise. But Shouto dared not press this any further.

***

The rest of the day was taxing. Between figuring out their patrol route, struggling with names, and fumbling through hero equipment, Shouto was drained by the end of the day.

It really didn't help though that the mood had seemingly soured. Preeta wasn't as bright and bubbly as she was in the morning. That wasn't to say that she was gloomy because she still tried her best to ensure the atmosphere was never too heavy. But it was clear something was weighing upon her, and it obviously had to do with whatever happened during Kaiqi's quick visit.

That, however, wasn't the most frustrating part; it was Bakugou's sour mood. He was a little grumpy in the morning, and then it got better with time, even joking around in the gym. Yet, suddenly, he was brooding again, and Shouto hadn't a clue what he should do.

Even as the day ended and Preeta sent them back to the dormitories, Shouto still couldn't figure out what had gotten him in this mood or what he should do.

Discreetly, he slid his phone out of his pocket and texted the first person he could think of for help. He was waiting for a reply when the car pulled over.

"Alright! We're here!" Preeta said, smiling back at them. "Rest up. It's been a tiring day but we've got more to do tomorrow!"

Bakugou hummed in acknowledgement as he got out of the car.

"Thank you for today," Shouto said as he slid out after Bakugou.

"No problem!" Preeta returned. "Goodbye, kids!"

The two boys waved before closing the car door and watching it drive off. When Shouto turned around, Bakugou was already walking back into the dorm compounds.

Shouto was about to follow after when he felt a vibration in his pocket. He took a look at his phone.

Izuku: good morning!!! (Or evening?)

Izuku: but oh no that doesn't sound good :(

Izuku: i honestly think u should talk to kacchan properly

Izuku: leaving kacchan with his thoughts isnt exactly the best idea

Izuku: maybe talk to him

Shouto: … I think you're right

Izuku: (｡•̀ᴗ-)✧

Shouto nodded to himself. Izuku had experienced first-hand what it was like to deal with a Bakugou who has been left with his own negative thoughts for too long. So Shouto trusted his friend's advice on this topic. He was about to put his phone away when another message came in.

Izuku: its really nice that u r his boyfriend now! i think sometimes he forgets its okay to ask for help and that he doesnt need to deal with stuff alone. plus i can tell he listens to what u say

Izuku: love really changes a person hehe

Izuku: not in a bad way!!

It was as though a lead ball was launched straight at Shouto's stomach.

There was still the issue that he had to confess that he didn't reciprocate Bakugou's romantic love for him. The day had been so hectic and he had forgotten all about that.

And this conversation with Izuku drove home another problem: when he and Bakugou do break up, how would he explain to his family and Izuku that the relationship they had been overjoyed about not too long ago had just ended?

Shouto felt his lip begin to tremble. He wouldn't know how to face them to be honest. It seems like such a jerk move to have dated someone for more than half a year, only to tell them that he didn't feel any romantic love.

Wouldn't it have been much simpler if he had said that he didn't feel anything romantic for Bakugou from the start? Either they don't start dating or they enter the relationship knowing exactly what they were both in for. Not this… unstable form of a relationship.

What Bakugou needed was something firm he could lean on. Not this… mess of a person who fumbled around with his feelings like an idiot.

"Oi."

Shouto's head shot up to find red orbs staring into him.

"You coming?"

"Y-yeah," Shouto muttered, climbing the flight of stairs to the boyfriend whom he simultaneously wanted to embrace and tear himself away from.

#bnha #boku no hero academia #mha #my hero academia #todobaku #bakutodo #todoroki shouta #bakugou katsuki #bktd #bnha fanfic #mha fanfic #fanfic #my writing

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sooibian · 4 years ago

Text

Paragons of Virtue

image from pinterest

🚸 pairing: sehun x fem!reader

🚸 description: “the dog ate my homework!”

🚸 themes: innocence, friendship, fluff

🚸 au: childhood au

🚸 word count: + 1.7k

🚸 a/n: the EXOs are 12 year olds! no, really. in this universe they are! this one-shot kicks off the ‘Back To School With EXO’ series of drabbles/one-shots for all individual members. hope you enjoy!!! @is-that-baekhyuns-shirt you have the craziest elementary school stories! thank you so much for sharing

_______________________________________________

Your parents never ‘mistakenly shred your homework to bits just to show you how a paper shredder worked'. Neither did your homework ever ‘blow away in the wind while you were walking to school’. Because a: you hardly ever walked to school - your mother drove you everyday and b: your worksheets were always neatly stacked and sealed in shiny new folders (you’d even devised a foolproof method of avoiding unsightly smudges of fingerprints on the transparent ones). If academic learning was your one true love, simple but highly functional stationery was a close second - colour coded writing equipment, neutral notebooks (the ones with animated characters were a guilty pleasure), even your year old geometry tools were as good as new.

A stringent schedule did now allow for any embarrassing dents, cracks, or cavities wherein lived the perennial ‘I did not have the time for homework’ excuse. Come hell or high water, you were always at the top of your game.

Additionally, your greyhound was a well-behaved, not-so-little fella, so the dog never ‘ate your homework’

….until he did. His choice of breakfast this morning was your Geography worksheet. Ravenous, he obliterated your hours of work in a matter of seconds. You fought tooth and nail to salvage it but his grasp on the paper was ridiculously strong.

So just like that, all of your hard work was reduced to shreds of chewed-on paper.

If there was one thing worse than ditching school, it was turning up without having the homework done. So you clutched your stomach with clasped hands and cried wolf, “Mom, my tummy hurts! I don’t think I can go to school today!” Just then the corner of your mouth twitched ever so slightly and her keen eyes didn’t miss the movement.

This awfully weird sudden convulsion happened every time you told a lie.

Stupid twitchy mouth was a dead giveaway.

The car ride to school, although a short one, felt like an eternity. Mother told you a story about a gardener boy who became king only because he told the truth. But you were no gardener boy! And you didn’t even want to be a king --- queen! All you wanted to do was to lie low and maintain your grades (and a spotlessly bright impression in the staff room - like a shiny new pencil holder, or a stainless steel writing pad).

The wall clock loomed over the green chalkboard, ticking away frighteningly. If you told your mother about your tummy ache now, your mouth wouldn’t twitch.

The bell rang. Your heart sank.

It was time for the short ten minute break.

Feeling helpless, you put your head down on the desk only to be startled by a sudden tap on your shoulder. A lanky boy stood blinking at you, his eyes covered with unruly bangs and lips stretched into a rationed grin.

It was the science teacher’s son - Oh Sehun.

Vacantly, you blinked back - hands still folded upon the desk, posture crouched somewhere in between sitting up straight and spiralling back into the comforting state of denial.

You wonder how he manages to read at all with a vision obstructed by a cloud of black frizz.

You’ve never bothered about Oh Sehun before (or anyone else for that matter), except for the one scarring thing you’d once witnessed him doing - truth be told it had left you a little concerned. It was really stormy one day after school and the grounds were empty. You’d stayed back to complete an assignment and he was probably waiting for his mother to wrap up her teacherly duties.

The wind motioned in circles, swirling dry leaves and whatever else it could muster in its rotations. Oh Sehun stood in the middle of this ‘mini-typhoon’. Hands outstretched, mouth open, eyes shut, eyebrows raised, head thrown back toward the dark skies, he pronounced, “I am the God of Wind! Bow before me you lesser mortals!”, to absolutely...no one.

He’s blissfully unaware that you’ve been witness to his indignity and you’d like to keep it that way. For one, he’s always stood second in class and never vied for your top spot (his consistency, you think, is commendable) and secondly - and most importantly - he is the son of an authority figure.

The boy's still hovering. Shifting his mingy weight from one foot to the other. Despite your inner turmoil, you plaster a polite smile onto your face and ask, “Can I help you with something?”

“No, but I think I can?” grin still rationed, eyes still clouded, uninvited he takes the empty seat to your left.

“You can what..?” Your eyes follow his frame as he parks his bony bottom on the worn out wooden bench.

“Help you with something? There’s obviously something wrong with you today.” He rests his chin in his flattened palm and purses his lips. Blinking.

Am I that obvious? You have an indescribable urge to shake his hair out of his eyes - to get an idea of what he’s thinking exactly.

“What makes you think there’s something wrong with me?”

Moon Taeil, the class rep, is dusting the chalkboard clean for Geography but you know his ears are on your conversation.

“Your hand didn’t shoot up once during any of the lessons today...are you okay? Do you need to go to the nurse’s room?”

Your face flushes out of embarrassment and this is….an invasion of privacy. This scrawny boy is making you uncomfortable. But you know that you could use a friend right now. Is this what friends do? Share embarrassing secrets?

“I didn’t do my Geography homework”, you start and beneath the mop of hair you notice his eyebrows skyrocket to his hairline so you hurriedly explain, “I mean, I did the homework but...”

Blink. Blink.

“My dog ate it”, your hand slides down the pocket of your skirt and you pull out shreds of paper.

You fully expect Sehun to laugh, but he doesn’t. Instead he raises his twig-like index finger and says, “Wait.”

He dashes out and returns with his backpack dangling down one shoulder and slumps back into the seat to your left. He takes out a spotless transparent folder and hands it to you.

It’s his Geography worksheet.

“There’s no way I’m copying this! I, obviously, can’t now...Madam Park will be here in like, five minutes.” You’re mortified at your desperation.

“I want you to have it. Also, Madam Park is on leave today onwards since she’s going to have a baby and all that... A new teacher is coming in who, obviously, won’t know what your handwriting is like. You can submit my worksheet instead.”

“A new teacher?” Your mouth goes dry, completely aware of how important first impressions are.

He nods.

“But why?” You notice he’s left the space given for personal details blank.

“Loyalty.”

Eyes narrowed, you shrug, utterly bewildered.

“Toward my classmates. We’re all friends first. And if this is so important to you, you can have my worksheet.”

He can’t be serious (or not serious)!

“Are you some sort of a “Homework Peddler”? Won’t people take advantage of your -” generosity, you wanted to say, “of--of you?”

“I’m not stupid, A+...I have a system.” He relaxes into the chair and you can practically see the ‘bow-before-me-you-lesser-mortals’ aura around him.

Students are trickling back in and you’ve consciously kept the cruel clock out of your sight. Sehun doesn’t go back to his seat, instead he settles besides you.

I don’t want to be queen.

“What’s that?” He quips.

With the corner of your mouth twitching again, your gaze drops. You take the sheet from his hands and gently put it down between your outstretched arms on the desk, “Nothing...thank you.”

His lips curl upward. Faintly.

The after-break cacophony dies down as the new teacher introduces herself as Madam Jung.

In exchange for her introduction, she wants all of yours. So to submit worksheets, she individually invites every student before the class to introduce, and to say one good thing about themselves.

She starts from the row to your right and your stomach clenches.

One good thing? I am incapable of making friends. I am careless about my homework. There’s nothing good about me!

Your eyes flit between Sehun (who is annoyingly unperturbed) and the worksheet which boasts of his loyalty and illegible chicken scratch.

When you realise it’s your turn next, you glance over at Sehun one last time (who is now twirling a pen between his fingers). He feels your eyes on him and catches your worried gaze and nods as if to say that it’s okay.

Feeling yet another telltale convulsion rise, you quickly scribble into the personal details space as Moon Taeil drones on about his fourth “good quality” and Madam Jung seems mighty impressed.

Before stepping in front of the class, you shove the worksheet back into Sehun’s hands. He first gapes at it which has his own name written on it and then at you - your surprisingly confident stance. Chin up, shoulders back, although your breathing is a little heavy.

Madam Jung encourages you with a motherly smile and you return it.

After introducing yourself you say, “I don’t think I have any impressive qualities, dear friends”, from the corner of your eye, you catch Sehun intently studying your face, “unlike some of you here who are complete embodiments of friendship and loyalty...”, you nod in Sehun’s direction. His wide grin makes his eyes crinkle. He sticks his tongue out and sinks into his seat, making himself tinier.

“...but I’d like to think of myself as an honest person and, Madam Jung, I hope you’ll believe me when I say that my dog...” a now wide-eyed Sehun is shaking his head furiously, “ate my homework.”

You produce scraps - a week’s worth of toil - and lay them on Madam Jung’s desk, and the class erupts in laughter. Pursing your lips, your eyes catch Sehun’s who wordlessly encourages you to laugh along.

Shoulders relaxed, you look at your classmates with an inexplicable sense of achievement. The kind Madam Jung chuckles, shaking her head and patting your back and your new friend (you dearly hope you can call him that now) - Oh Sehun - stands up amidst the cheerful ruckus, applauding you.

#exowritersnet #exosnet #sehun #exo #exo fluff #sehun fluff #exo oneshot #exo oneshots #sehun oneshot #sehun oneshots #sehun drabbles #sehun drabble #exo drabble #exo drabbles #exo scenarios #sehun scenarios #oh sehun #please don't judge this is healing writing!!!#exo childhood au

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boneswriteswords · 5 years ago

Text

Alien Boyfriend: Duxob

I wrote this over a year ago and it was on my wattpad so I decided to move it over here too. Its my first crack at an alien and a space story. Let me know what you think and if I should continue this world building.

I reread it and I’m not a fan but I never like any of my work so eh. Its unbeta’d because we die like men here.

Length: ~7900

Male Alien x Female Reader

~~~~~~

The sun that rose in the west was at its peak as you pretended to rummage through your backpack. It was the kind of hot that evaporated the sweat from your body before it even had a chance to drip and you could feel the skin at the back of your neck boiling. Stealing the large tub of sun cream you in preparation for your days on this hell-site of a planet was honestly one of the smartest things you had ever done in your life.

A few feet away, Duxob leaned against your bikes, tinted band hiding half his reptilian face as he scanned the area - particularly the cargo wagon by the gateway- under the guise of adjusting something on one of the handle bars.

It was a believable enough scene. Your bikes looked like they were on their last legs, barely functional and ill-maintained, what with all the scratches and chipped paint, the dangling wires and exposed gear shifts. The tires were covered in duct tape. The seats were tattered and stained. The metals looked rusted and dangerous.

No one needed to know that they only looked that way though.

No one needed to know that you designed them to look like heaps of junk. Aside from the things that you needed to fix on them the next time you hit a decent port city, they ran smoother and faster than anything on this side of the galaxy. But, for the purposes of keeping your head down and not getting robbed, life was easier when they didn't look appealing.

Across the clearing, you could hear the men attaching the empty wagon to the jump ship, checking over the mechanics one last time. They're yelling something The driver of the jump ship revs the gears in quick bursts, filling the silent port with noise, and you know that you only have a few minutes before they leave.

You adjust your band down over the bridge of your nose, turning up the the tint so your eyes weren't visible. If anyone was watching, you didn't want them to have any more identifiers than necessary. It was bad enough that your roots were showing, revealing your natural hair color to the world.

Glancing up at Duxob, you nod. His scales shift colors -green to blue to purple- in silent agreement, running his hand over his pants and mounting his bike. There was no need for words when you've been working together as long as you have. There is no doubt between you and it makes picking out the best targets easier than breathing.

Like the driver. You would have approached him. He was an old Culxan, wrinkles deep in his wide face and expression set in a way that shows he has never known much other than struggle and hard labor in his long life, but he was soft around the edges. He likely had a family or at the very least, he wished he had one. You'd be able to play into that if you had the time, chipping away at him with curious glances and innocent but intrusive questions until he broke rules about stowaways and border jumping.

But time was the one thing you didn't have at the moment.

Which was why Duxob was taking the lead while you kept watch, one hand on your gun and the other on your bike handle. There were no visible security measures - the region you were in was way too poor to afford drones and bots and all the other high tech shit that smothers the galaxies - but that didn't mean much. This was an outlaw station - used more for transporting produce and drugs than intel and technology - and that meant anyone could have some sort of weapon on them at any time.

Which meant that they all did.

It also meant that you both needed to be extra careful. What you were doing was still illegal - Duxob could be arrested the moment he set foot by the gates - but there was a lawlessness about the way they dealt with criminals. There were no questions. There were no arrests. There were no calling the authorities.

You didn't just have to watch for guard passes through the jump, you had to watch for anyone who looked at your partner for longer than 10 seconds.

It made you anxious but you knew Duxob could handle himself. He was Alzeanian after all - one of the most deadly species to exist on this side of the cosmos - and while they were rare and were hardly ever seen off their own planet, everyone knew what they were capable of.

It was an advantage you had utilized many times since you met him.

Still, you also never looked away from him as he approached the cargo wagon. Between the whirring of refueling pods and the grinding of the lines, the whole area is drowned in a sea of noise that made it damn near impossible for you to pick up what Duxob was saying. He was off his bike and if you hadn't redesigned it yourself, you would have thought it was turned off.

'Not safe yet,' you thought, watching as he adjusts his gait into a saunter as he approaches the driver. His wide smile is all sharp teeth but his flat nostrils are closed into slits as he scented the wagon. After a moment, the slits flared open again and He stretched, his lean body on display as his dirty shirt rode up.

You tried not to stare but it was difficult when your job was literally to watch his scales to see if they shifted or not.

Duxob's toothy smile morphed into an easy grin as he reached down into his pocket and pulled out a small bag, slipping it into the driver's pointed claw in a pseudo-handshake. He flashed green and you knew you were safe for the moment.

Relieved, you hitched your backpack over your shoulders as Duxob drove back over. "We good?"

"Yeah. One bag of units and four ounces of dust," he husks, removing his own backpack from where it was hooked onto his bike, "Pretty cheap but then again, the wagon is empty, they're jumping through a moon shift, and its heading to the Triquaz region so anything more than that would have been bullshit and he knows it."

"Ew."

You hated the Triquaz region. Hated it. On your list of choices for destinations, it wouldn't even make it to the top 500 but the reality was that you didn't have a choice at the moment. They needed to get off this planet and find a port where they could stock up on their dangerously low supplies. You were human, which limited the amount of things you could consume in the galaxy apparently, and finding stations that imported Earth produce and the like took a bit of research to find.

"I know but at least the temperature doesn't fluctuate so suddenly or so dramatically."

"This is true," you sighed, adjusting your grip on your handle bars as you walked alongside the bulky alien, kicking up dust as you did so "Do you know which planet we're going to?"

"No but I do know we will be confined inside the back for a good five days before we get there."

"Well fuck," you groaned, "Do we have enough to get us through til then?"

His lips quirked up and you couldn't help be annoyed at it. You had real concerns damnit! You knew how much you had in your bag but that was it. You didn't touch your partner's bag unless it was a severe medical emergency, like the time you got bit by a Qon and needed a poison pack or when Duxob accidentally burned off an entire forearm's worth of scales and skin trying to readjust the thrusters on his bike without your supervision.

"Don't fucking smirk at me dickhole."

His grin widened minutely before disappearing completely, "We will be fine. We have enough to last until we get off-world and find somewhere to sleep."

God you missed sleep. It felt like ages since you were able to get more than an hour here and there. The tension in your body was tight enough to choke someone to death. Your body was not made for the rough interstellar outlaw lifestyle that you found yourself in and it loved to remind you of that.

The alternative wasn't any better so you tried not to bitch too much about it.

The wagon was attached to the jump ship, the back door closing as it prepared to jump. The gatekeepers on both sides of the portal gate were bustling too and fro, making sure everything was secured for a final time before departure.

"Ready?" Duxob grunts, picking up the pace.

This part, along with literally everything else about being a stowaway, made you nervous. Jumping was a very serious, precious thing. If you fell back, it usually wasn't so bad. Depending on how far you are, you could come back unscathed. If you fell to the side.....well, it wasn't pretty thats for damn sure.

"Ready."

As one, you run forward, kicking up even more dust and shoving your bikes upwards, hopping into the wagon just as the doors close. You can hear the clicking as the metal latch seals and the overpowering light from the east sun was consumed in darkness. You quickly dropped to your knees and clutch onto the metal door handle, feeling the start-up of the initial burst of speed that is required in order to jump.

Duxob worked quickly to secure the security locks and activate the bracer shields on the bikes, knowing full well how awful it could be if the bikes remained unsteady during liftoff.

The wagon rocks as the buildup increases. There is heavy clanging happening outside, slowly being drowned out by the familiar ghostly noises of the portal as the wagon approaches it. You brace yourself as the rocking turns into lurching, knowing full well that no matter how hard you clutch onto the door, you are going to be flung.

It always hurts and this time is no different. The bruises on your back are going to be a fucking bitch.

"Y/N?" Duxob pulls a light stick from his bag as it ends, snapping the two ends together and holding it up. The wagon illuminates and you give him a thumbs up from where you landed on the floor on the opposite side of the wagon.

"Is anything broken, you weird fragile creature?"

The thumbs up quickly turns into middle finger and he snorts, which makes you bend your arm and snap it up a few times to emphasize the level of 'fuck you' you are directing at him. You hated everything.

The wagon lurches again and flings you over to another side of the wagon yet again. Pain shoots into your side but its quickly quashed when you realize it hurled you right into Duxob's body, causing him to grunt and slam back into the wall forcefully.

Fucking aftershocks.

"Ish what you get for talking shit asshole," you mumbled, face pressed uncomfortably into his abdomen (?)- you had no idea because Duxob dropped the light stick on impact and it rolled underneath one of the bikes and died.

A solid hour goes by before either of you move, wanting to be completely sure that the jump was successful.

"Only five days to go," you grumble as you finally shift away from the chilled body of your partner, "Fuck."

Five days of sleeping on a hard floor, working in the low lights of your remaining sticks, sucking on dehydrated food packs and ignoring the grumbling in your stomachs, and trying not to go stir crazy in the darkness of space. Again.

"We'll get through it. We always do."

"I know," you sigh, "I just wish it was different sometimes."

He doesn't say anything but you can feel his clawed hands stroke the top of your head and you hum, content despite the complaints on your lips. You'd cope. You both would. Just like you always do.

Because you weren't alone and neither was he.

~~~~~

Five days was four days and 23 hours too many to be confined in the dark with nothing to do. You were ready to tear your skin off just to have something else to focus on. As awesome as it was, travelling the galaxies wasn't a luxurious process if you didn't have the money to book passage on a tourist ship or buy your own. More often than not, if you wanted to get somewhere off-planet, you either hitched a ride or you snuck your way into empty crates and bag holds, spending hours upon hours being quiet and still.

It was maddening at the worst of times but you always felt better knowing that Duxob was with you, keeping you company in the quiet.

Nevertheless, the moment the secondary engines turned off, you were up and ready for action, securing your stuff back onto your body before the clinking and clanging of the descent even stopped.

Duxob was too by the looks of it. His face was always hard to read but you could tell he was just as anxious to escape your wooden prison as you were. You couldn't see it too well in the dark but his scales were more red than any other color and bright than normal, indicating his level of irritation. You watched as he pressed close to the wood, listening to the shouting coming from the outside through his comm chip.

You would have but yours was damaged and the parts were too small to see and repair in the total darkness of the wagon. The universe was filled with other languages and you picked up what you could but everything on the outside sounded foreign.

"Can you make anything out?" you whisper, already straddling your bike with your hand on the starter. After being confined for so long, the rush of adrenline was blinding. You wanted to go.

Duxob jerks away from the wood quickly and hops on his own bike, "We've descended. They'll be opening the door any minute now. Get ready." His long clawed hand turned his bike on before reaching over and flicking yours on too, "We have to be quick. This port is more heavily armed with border agents and just as ruthless. Be careful."

"You too."

The seconds seem to drag on and anxiety causes your grip on your handles to strengthen even as you start to sweat. Border patrol agents were nasty pieces of work, hired to check and process travellers as they come and go off planets but, because there were no uniform regulations to keep them in line, they often just did as they pleased to people, especially those that are illegally jumping.

Like you and Duxob were.

"We will be fine Y/N," Duxob mumbled quietly, his voice hoarse from disuse and oh how you loved how he said your name "They haven't caught us yet. They never will."

The darkness seems deeper in the contours of his face as you look at him, emphasizing the brightness of his golden reptilian eyes and the gold pseudo-eyes that rest above them and bleeding over the contours of his cheekbones. (He never explained to you what the 'pseudo eyes' were - you weren't even sure if they were eyes to begin with- or what they did and you couldn't bring yourself to care about you- not when he was looking at you and you had more important things to focus on).

He's all hard lines and safety, a reminder of all you've gone through the last few years to get where you are, and you relax just the slightest bit.

"No. They never fucking will."

His lips quirk up again, "Now get ready. Its almost time."

And he was right. No sooner than you had turned back to face the wagon door, did it open with a hiss, revealing several border patrol guards with scanners and tasers and all the pretty toys you wish you could get your hands on.

"Show time."

~~~~~~

The getaway was as dramatic as you would expect. The air tasted wet, the humidity of the planet already working its magic on your already beaten body as you sped away from the guards. The port was a mess - Duxob finding it absolutely necessary to snatch one of their stun bombs and let it off over the entire port. There was a pain spreading from your side and you knew without a doubt that you got hit.

But it was worth it.

Duxob was unharmed.

You glance over your shoulder and assess the chaos left in your wake. Its nothing more than a smoky ball of dirt on wet and slimy hilltop and you grin when you see that the guard patrol bikes are still hovering around the port.

"They didn't see us. I think we're good," you shout, grinning wide despite the pulsing pain in your side. You could feel the blood dripping down your back, a burning sensation crawling over your flesh. Carefully, you engage your auto-drive.

"Lets get farther away before we get comfortable," the reptilian man warned, doing nothing to stop the smirk forming on his lips but kicking his bike into the next gear. You untie and retie your jacket's belt quickly, using whats left of your clothes as a makeshift bandage to staunch the bleeding, before putting your bike into the next gear to catch up.

"Where to?" You could feel drops of water splashing up from your wheels and you pointedly do not think about how much fucking mud you are going to have to clean out of your rechargers later. Instead, you focus on how exhilarating it feels to be alive.

Alive and with Duxob.

"There is a city not far from here but I think we should head out farther. When they release we got away, they'll immediately head to it to try and smoke us out."

"Sounds good to me." It really didn't, not with the way the fire in your side spread and consumed you but auto-drive was a beautiful thing and it wouldn't be the first time you passed out and needed your bike to take you to safety. Duxob was more than capable of syncing your bike to his so you didn't get separated and he was more than used to you passing out due to your human stamina.

It would be ok.

~~~~~~

It was not ok.

You had been on the road for at least a full 12 hours before Duxob found a port city to stop in, every rock, bump, and hurdle ripping at the ever-growing wound on your side. There was nothing special about this particular port - same lost cost rooms, dingy dive bars, questionable food marts, and horrific pleasure buildings, all the same shit that comes with being a hub for the transients and the poor - and that what made it the perfect place to lay low for a bit.

It also meant that there likely wasn't a med bay anywhere in the vicinity and you're going to have to try and fix the wound yourself when Duxob went for food.

There were plenty of buildings advertising rooms but Duxob was picky, choosing the one that had the least amount of skeevy employees and cleaner bathrooms. It had a parking lot right outside the rooms, which was good since being able to get to their bikes at a moment's notice was vital in your combined survival.

Your room was all the way in the back of the building, on the first floor, another thing Duxob insists on when you bunker down in actual rooms for a night or two.

"I got us a room for five nights," he says, flashing the card keys and slipping them into his jacket pocket.

The surprise on your face must have been obvious because he snorted, "We need a rest. And we need to restock. Shipments are due to come in all this week at this port. Better to lay low and stay than run off with half empty gas tanks and no food."

Point.

"They didn't charge me too much," he murmured, knowing how anxious you got when you ran low on units, "I bartered."

Bartered meaning threatened the clerk until he was satisfied that they wouldn't bother you both. You smirked up at him, "Good. I'm assuming we also have an hydration pod?"

Duxob leveled you with a stern look before it broke into a small grin and a wink, almost sending you to your knees in shock.

"Oooh, whats got you all playful?" you joked, subtly adjusting so you could poke his abdomen through his thick jacket. The movement was enough to make you want to die but you could not pass up the opportunity to tease him.

"You're going to stop smelling like shit and I'm excited about it."

"Fuck you, you stoic cumstain," you cackled, knowing full well that he was right. A downside to the life is that cleanliness often had to be traded for survival. Weeks could go by with only light rinsing and scrubbing through hoses and water containers and lakes. Soap was an almost nonexistent luxury as was conditioner and lotion.

Honestly, it was one of the hardest things you had to give up when you first left Earth and the thought of slipping into the pod and being able to do a deep cleansing of your body and wound was heavenly.

The scales on his head shift to a deep violet, spreading down his neck and chest in striping patterns and you know he is just as excited as you are to bathe. He reeks just as much as you do, the skin between his scales caked with ingrained dirt that probably drove him insane.

You made a mental note to offer to swab them out for him after his initial wash. You know, if you didn't pass out from the pain.

He swipes the card through the door before walking back outside to secure the bikes. You immediately drop all your stuff onto the bed in the corner, slowly lowering your body down next to it. You side screamed in protest, sweat starting to drip down your body as the wound shifted from a spreading pain into paralyzing infection.

Which means that it wasn't just a normal blaster the guard was wielding.

Which means that it was one of the million different kinds of biological weapons they had at their disposal.

Which means that not only did it feel like your flesh was being fried and eaten, it likely was being fried and eaten to create the ideal environment for whatever chemical or disease that was inside it to make itself at home and infect you.

Which meant you were fucked.

The world got really fuzzy.

"....hey....Y/N? Are you ok?" your partner said, voice sounding distant.

'Oh...I think I'm dying,' you thought sluggishly as Duxob's face appeared above yours, handsome reptilian face slowly fading.

"Nope," you slurred, making sure to emphasize the pop of the 'P', "I got shot at the port. Thought it was a normal blaster shot but looks like its not...."

"What?"

Oh, he sounded mad.

"Yeah. Don't be mad."

"Oh. Mad doesn't even begin to cover what I'm feeling," he growled, easing off your jacket and the majority of your shirt off as carefully as he could to inspect the damage. "Why didn't you say anything?"

"We had to get away." There were pieces of fabric melted into the wound and no matter how gentle he was being, it was not pleasant and you couldn't stop the choked noises from escaping. Something cold was sprayed on the blistering skin and you vaguely recognized the smell of antibiotic spray.

'He's so smart,' your mind supplied as it floated in dead, squishy remnants of your ability to think rational and continuous thought, 'Knows just what I need.'

"We could have stopped sooner! This needs to be dressed and treated!"

You didn't have the strength to argue, blinking to fight off the very tempting urge to just pass out and ignore the way your body was succumbing to the infection. There was an unhealthy amount of sweat pooling in your collarbones and in the small of your back but there was ice in your bones.

"Stay awake. Stay the fuck awake Y/N! Do you hear me? I'm going to wrap you up and get some help."

"Too dangerous."

"Fuck you, I swear if-"

You didn't hear what he said next. Everything went silent, like when audio is cut right in the middle of a movie. You were positive he was still talking but his lips were moving way too fast for you to read them and it wasn't like you could see them clearly anyway.

A feeling of calm washes over you before the world goes black.

~~~~~

The first time you regain consciousness feels like something out of one of your nightmares.

There is pain.

Lots and lots of fucking pain.

And you can't move. Your body was frozen, limbs unresponsive and weak.

And there is one - no, two - faces hovering above you covered in blood and neither of them was Duxob. You didn't recognize either of them but you knew that the blood was yours.

The screams formed and fizzled out before they could reach your teeth.

'Please. Please let me die. Oh my God, please let me die. I can't....help me. Someone help me!'

The darkness gripped you tight and you hoped that you never woke up again.

~~~~~~

The second time you wake up, you are in a different room and the pain is gone but it was replaced with a throbbing ache in your joints. Its dark, the only light coming from a small light stick in the corner of the room, but you can make out the shape of something moving in the room behind weighted eyelids.

"Dux?" you rasp, mouth dry and disgusting, "That you?"

The shadow figure moved closer. Right away you knew it wasn't Dux and you couldn't stop the anxious whine from escaping. It crackled painfully in your throat. The dark hid everything from you, fear slamming back into you forcefully.

"Shhh. Shhh little love," the shadow whispered, voice feminine and sweet, "Dux is nearby. Cade had to take him to the back room while R fixed you up."

A cool cloth was placed on your head and you flinched, whining again when you realized you couldn't move away from it. The ache spread throughout your body as it tried to shiver. The bed beside your hand dipped before a soft hand stroked your cheek and hair.

"Rest. You are out of danger now. I'll let Dux know you know you woke up," the shadow said, a smooth lilt to its voice as they continued to soothe you. "He worries."

As much as you want to protest, to jump up and demand answers, scream for Duxob to come in and protect you from the shadow and this strange, awful place, you couldn't help but the shadow's touch was comforting. Something beeped somewhere in the darkness followed by a burst of sweet-smelling aroma.

Before you could stop yourself, you slipped gently back into unconsciousness with the bitter knowledge of waking up alone on your tongue.

~~~~~~

The third time you woke up, you felt better. The throbbing ache was centralized to the spot where you knew your wound was. You kept your eyes closed for a few moments, cataloging your body, relieved when it seems that all your limbs seemed back online and capable of movement.

"Y/N?" a familiar voice asked and you couldn't help the grin as it formed on your mouth.

"Dux?"

"Yeah, its me," the sound of wood scraping on wood filled the room and the bed dipped a little, "I was starting to think Jazza lied."

"Who?"

"Don't worry about it right now," he murmured quietly and you didn't have to look to see that his face was next to yours on the pillow, "How do you feel?"

"Sore," you whimpered, shifting a bit on the bed, "but good. Better."

"Good. Good."

After a moment of struggle, you were able to roll your head to side and open your eyes. Duxob's face was, indeed, very close to yours on the pillow. Close enough that you could trace the green patterns in his iris's.

"Hi," you whispered.

"Hey."

"You ok?"

"Yeah, I'm ok."

"Promise?"

He chuckled at that, the sound reverberating through the pillow, "Promise. Go back to sleep. You need more rest."

As soon as the words left his lips, you yawned, sending what was probably a really nasty-smelling gust of gross-mouth into his face. His face contorted in mild disgust but stayed put. You admired his restraint.

"Sleep." There was a hint of command in his tone.

So you did, eager to fall into a place that was just Dux's cool hands and vibrant scales.

~~~~~~

Weeks had passed before you were able to stay awake for more than three hours and each time you woke up, Duxob was there with fresh blankets, soup, and a new story about what he had done while he waited for you to wake up again.

You quickly became acquainted with Jazza, a fiery little humanoid Flazian woman with artificial purple eyes and scars across her pink body who you recognized as the shadow who lulled you back to sleep, Cade, a small golden alien (you couldn't place his species for the life of you) with bright orange antennae and tattoos covering his body, and R, a tall tentacled Carcog who trained as a doctor on Pantone but left the practice to lead a rebellion after he discovered that the institution that hired him had been giving placebos to the poorer populations of beings instead of actual medicine.

You had also learned that the building you were in was where R worked to heal the disenfranchised and those injured by border agents and those they work for in the various riots and rages he leads and organizes. It was beaten down and broken, windows boarded up with wood and red tape, floors splintered and decayed, regularly infested with at least three kinds of parasites at any given moment - seven if Cade didn't parasite bomb once a week -, and the smell was enough to make you vomit. It was incredibly well-hidden - it had to be in order to fly under the radar for extended periods of time.

However, despite the shitty state of the building and most of its rooms overall, the healing rooms were immaculate and perfectly sterile. The medicine cabinets were lined up neatly along the walls and labeled with the different medicines they stored. There were neat charts and lists hanging on the walls - patient schedules, post-its with cute doodles on them, restock lists, all manner of relevant papers.

Air purifiers hung in every corner just high enough to reach and adjust if needed and you were thankful for them because without them, you could imagine it getting quite stuffy in the room.

Cade had found the building right before the last time they had been forced to run - over 3 years ago - and they still hadn't been found, which put you at ease. You wouldn't be able to fight your way out if there was a raid on the building.

Especially since you were unarmed and unable to get out of bed without risking rupturing all of R's hard work.

They were quite the trio, always on the go and doing something, getting in each other's way - sometimes on purpose just to get a rise out of the other - but, despite their strangeness, you were grateful. They saved your life and, from what Jazza had said, kept Duxob from losing his shit all over the place while you were out.

"Dinnertime!" Jazza sang as she sauntered into the room, a steaming bowl of gross mush that was supposed to promote rapid healing.

"Oh goody," you reply sarcastically, dog-earing the page you were on and putting the book off to the side so she could place the bowl on your lap table.

"Hush now," she mock-scolded, purple eyes whirring as they focused on you, "This is helping."

"But it tastes like shit," you whine loudly, exaggerating random syllables, "Its NASTY!"

"Child, I will spank you."

"Pfft, that is sooooo not a punishment," you smirked, wiggling your eyebrows at her as she cackled.

"If it makes you feel better, the rest of us are stuck on this canned garbage until we can make another run and it tastes even worse than the shit R is making for you."

"You're right, I do feel better."

"Oh fuck off."

You laughed, only stopping when your side started to throb. R had told you all about the stuff you had been shot with, and, because you waited so long before getting it treated, you would likely always have a residual pain in your side from where the nerves had been frayed and rebuilt. Over time, the pain would fade into a more manageable level and you'd be able to resume most activities but it would likely never go away.

It bummed you out in more ways than you could ever imagine and for once, you were thankful Duxob wasn't in the room. You were 90% sure R had already told him everything a;ready, there was no way he wasn't going to get some answer from R after he had fixed you up, but you sure as hell didn't want to have a conversation about it.

"So, I have more questions," Jazza smiled and you groaned obnoxiously, causing her to shoot you a playful glare.

Jazza had grown up with very little knowledge of the worlds beyond her own, having come from a very secretive sub-community on a moon in some quadrant you hadn't even heard of, and only started experiencing other beings when she hitched a ride with Cade off her birth world. As a result, she had at least 20 new questions for you every time she came in and grilled you endlessly as she tried to understand. Most of the time, her questions were about humans and Earth but there were times when her curiosity drifted to your partner.

It was sweet, the way she lit up when something made sense to her. She's get all starry eyed and excited and you felt a pang of loss over your own loss of wonder.

"Ok. Shoot."

"What is up with Dux's scales? One minute they're green. Then they're blue. They get really bright and then dim down like a Hashi craft. I fucking turned around yesterday and he had bright red fucking elbows for no reason and I don't know dude, is he sick? Does he need a catheter too?"

If you had been drinking, you would have choked, "First of all, thank you for reminding me that I have one of those in right now. I really needed to be reminded that I can't pee on my own."

"You are welcome," she responds with all the seriousness of condolence.

" Secondly, its partially how he communicates," you said, rolling noodles onto your fork, "Alzeanian scales are a lot more complex than what people think. Probably because they don't leave their planet often and anyone who visits their planet gets killed so no one really has any data on them." You shrug, dipping your fork of noodles in the little sauce pot. "Each scale looks like its just a flat color from a distance but the closer you get, the more you can see that they are more of an iridescent duo-chrome. Alzeanians can control how muted or how bright their colors are and can make them shift from regardless of where they are standing in the light. Duxob has a green to blue-purple shift in the majority of his scales. In others, he has a gold to red shift and he has a tiny patch that shifts between purple and red but that's literally just on his elbow. Depending on where we are and what we are trying to do, he uses them to talk to me from a distance."

"That is so cool," Jazza whispers, eyes wide and whirring as she slurps down her own food with her double-tongue.

"It can be," you acknowledge, "and its always nice knowing that your partner is adept at handing any kind of situation and can alert you real fast if things get...unsavory. I lucked out big time that he took me on."

You couldn't help the twinge of sadness that came when you thought too deeply about Duxob's presence in your life and the implications of how recent events were going to change that.

"How so? I saw your Wanted reel. You are quite handy with a gun," she grinned, nudging you with a dirty hand and you couldn't help but grin back. You were extremely proud of your Wanted reel. It really captured your insanity and desperation for freedom. Other outlaws try to seem as scary as possible when they know they are being filmed to dissuade anyone from coming after them.

Not you though.

You welcomed the challenge.

'Come and get me. I dare you.'

"I try."

"You succeed."

"Its all I know how to do. Wield a gun and fix bikes," you shift your now empty bowl away from you. There is a bitterness lurking there, something you try to keep down as much as possible. Jazza seems to understand.

"Lets change your bandages," she suggests and you are grateful for the change in topic.

~~~~~~

You hate physical therapy.

Hated it.

You also hated Duxob.

Because the piece of shit loved to get you up early and do the exercises with you until you cried.

This morning was no different. The stupid lizard wouldn't stop smiling as he guided you into each stretch.

"Stop enjoying this," you grumbled as he pushes down on your torso so you get an actual stretch instead of one of the fakes ones you did before he took over because you didn't see the point of putting yourself in more pain.

"I'm not," he said, smile stretched, sharp, jagged teeth on display, even further on his usually stoic face. Fucking liar.

"You are, you - ow, ow, ow, owwwww," you screeched as he eased you into the most painful of the stretches, "Whhhhhyyyyy?"

"You need to use your muscles again. You were in a coma on and off for two weeks and you've been recovering in bed for two more. You're going to get squishy and useless."

"I already am squishy and useless though!"

"No, you aren't," he murmured, letting you come out of the stretch and falling back onto the bed, "And you need to get your body used to movement again."

"Leave me to die," you whine dramatically, turning your head and throwing your arm over your eyes like a princess.

The words formed and hit your mouth before they hit your brain and the silence that follows is deafening.

"I think recent circumstances would suggest that I wouldn't," Duxob says, soft and displeased.

"I know," you sigh.

~~~~~~

"Tell me," Jazza begins, a couple of days later, "How'd you get hurt anyway? I feel like we've talked about literally everything else since you've been here but that. You had a pretty sizable wound when you came in. R wasn't sure you were going to pull through and he's done multiple surgeries on Gorglax creatures."

"Oh um, well," you wrack your brain for a good explanation but the look on Jazza's face suggests a finger right in your side if you lie. "Ok well. We had gotten off a port wagon and the usual 'run for your lives before the space coppers get you' game ensued. Dux had managed to get a hold of one of their stun bombs and released it, paralyzing the border guards. Most of them anyway." You take a deep breath, a weird flash of emotion flowing through you as you relived it. Ew. Not going there. "There was a smaller one following close behind us as we fled from the port. I don't know if he saw me or what, maybe he completely disregarded me as being the less important catch - whatever - but he aimed at the back of Dux's bike. His recharger wasn't in the best shape - I only had duct tape with me when I rewired it - and any sort of hit would have caused an explosion. He took aim at it and I swerved in front of him, causing him to slam on the breaks and swerve away."

Your side throbbed dully at the memory of your skin splitting open as the gun went off anyway, haphazardly, hitting you just enough to burn away a chunk of your body.

"It went off anyway and got me in the back as I was speeding away."

"It wasn't a direct hit?"

"No, thankfully."

"Then why was it so bad?"

You chuckled awkwardly, "I, um, didn't tell Dux I had gotten hurt so we, kinda, sorta...drove for 12 hours before I collapsed and he brought me to you."

The furious look on Jazza's pretty face would have been hilarious if it hadn't been for the fact it was directed at you, "You are an idiot."

"Hey, no I-"

"Yes you are! Did you have some kind of death wish?!"

"No-o...I-"

"You what? What could possibly have gone through your head that would justify you allowing yourself to burn and rot?"

It was silent for a moment as you tried to think of a reason other than the truth but, it just wasn't worth it. Not anymore. You were tired.

"I thought it was a normal hit, something minor," you whispered, unable to keep looking into the girl's pretty purple eyes, "I thought that I'd likely be okay. We'd stop, I'd patch myself up, and we'd rest. It wasn't until we got there that I realized I was fucked but even so, I was content. It hurt like a bitch but I've long accepted that I'm going to die in a shoot out or in a shitty sleep room in some shitty port," you sighed, leaning back into your lumpy pillow and rubbing your face, "And you, if I was gone....Dux would be safe. Safer, I should say."

Jazza's round face softened, the anger melting into a calm understanding.

"How so?" Her voice was soft, like the night she had soothed you to sleep in the shadows.

"I am a liability. I am no use to him, not really. I get hurt more. I eat more. I sleep more. I am more high maintenance than he is. I require things he doesn't and that make being on the road difficult. There is a reason humans aren't an ideal partner, especially when you are running from space cops! I mean, look at where I am now? In bed! Hurt! He had to go around in a strange place and put himself at risk to try and find someone who could help. And he's waiting for me out of some misplaced whatever when we both know he could dip at any moment and he'd survive just fine!"

You didn't realize you were screaming until you stopped to catch your breath, throat hoarse and frustrated tears rolling down your face. Everything that had bottled up the last few years poured out, exploding in a tsunami of bullshit you didn't want to have to deal with. There was a throbbing in your side that you knew was from overexertion but you didn't give a fuck anymore.

"He would be fine," you reiterated, suddenly feeling sluggish. The drip in your arm had turned up on its own at the feel of your elevated heart rate and increasing level of agitation. R had set it up to monitor your activity and keep you from doing something stupid out of boredom and ripping yourself open. It was such a staple in your life that you had forgotten it was even in.

"No, I really wouldn't."

Oh shit.

He did not.

"Dux?" your mouth was slow, dripping over the syllable as he entered the room. A silent conversation took place between him and Jazza, one too fast for your slushy mind to process, before Jazza took off out of the room without another word.

The door closed and he sighed, all but collapsing on the chair next to you bed, looking more ragged than you had ever seen him before. His scales flashed and shifted uneasily as he looked at you.

"It seems we need to talk," he said, the finality of his tone telling you a talk was going to happen despite his phrasing.

"If you want."

"No but we're going to."

"Fine, you start."

Coward, you scolded yourself but hey, feelings were scary, which is why you never dealt with him.

"Fine," he growled, scooting the chair even closer and putting himself all in your personal bed space, "Things are going to change."

"I figured," you shrugged, "I can't run anymore. My side will never allow me to do all the strenuous activity of being an outlaw."

"Agreed. You can't do that anymore," he said, eyes roaming over the bandages peeking through the shredded top you were wearing before meeting your eyes again, "So I came up with a solution."

You leaned your head back, your neck unable to hold it up due to the sedation pumping through you, "Where are you going to take me?"

"What do you mean?"

"I'd like for you to drop me off in a place I'll be able to get around easily enough. I liked that little blue planet we stopped at like 2 years ago."

"You aren't going anywhere."

"But you just said I can't run anymore. I can't stay here forever and we are still Wanteds. I'm going to need to be in a place where I can live and blend in without drawing suspicion."

"Who says you can't stay here?," he asked, harsh golden-green eyes boring into yours, "And who says that I'm going to ditch you on some random planet?"

"Dux, I can't," you pause, mind really blurry because he isn't making any sense and it's making you anxious, "I am very drugged. Please stop."

His gaze softens and he reaches a stubby clawed hand out to stroke your head, "Calm down, ashistoiro. You are ok. You are safe. I am here."

"Ashi-what?"

"Ashistorio, Y/N. Beloved in Alzeanian...well, the closest translation for it," he murmured, claws scraping gently along your skin, "I discussed it with R. He is letting us stay. There is a bunker attached to this building that he is going to let us have until its time for all of us to leave. I am not leaving you. I won't. I can't. You are my biggest asset."

It wasn't a normal confession of love, not by a long shot, but it was one of the most meaningful you had ever heard.

And you hated that you were passing out in the middle of it.

"Yeah?"

He smiled as he watched you nod off, "Go to sleep. I'll be here when you wake up."

You couldn't wait to wake up.

~~~~~~

#monster story #monster boyfriend #alien boyfriend #space adventure #male alien #My writing #Alien

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fa210 · 4 years ago

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For Friday 5 February

STEP ONE: ENCOUNTER

Katsina Hopituh Shinumu

ASSIGNMENT:

Spend at least ten minutes (more would be better) looking at the image of the Katsina above.

Using your learning journal, try sketching the Katsina.

Then try thinking about how you might answer the Key Course Questions under the “Encounter” heading.

Maybe send me a question or a comment about the Katsina for me to post here. (I won’t use your name.)

keep reading for your Questions & Comments ↴ ↴ ↴

Katsina Questions & Comments:

The katsina looks like it might have been a doll or a worshiping statue in its earlier life. The orange headdress on the human-like figure also makes me think of the sun and brighter days. It also looks as if it was made for a type of sun god or someone powerful because of the large headdress. The beautiful pattern on the headdress also matches the bottom of the figure's dress. It appears that the statue may not have a function as well.

When I look at the image, I think this work of art symbolizes strength by the way the arms are positioned... the headdress makes me think of power and royalty. Therr seems to be a mask over the dolls mouth which makes me think of silence... I even thought of a dream catcher of some sort. So many thoughts on this piece.

When looking at the image of the Katsina, it makes me think of a human having a large hat on top of its head. It sorts of seems like it's celebrating something the hands are positioned. The colors and shapes used make Katsina feel exciting and alive.

After looking at the Katsina, I see a doll with key parts to it that could symbolize/mean multiple things. The main idea that I get from this piece of art is the symbolism of strength and warmth. The strength part coming from the way that the arms are put and just how the statue looks in general. Being that the artist used a few colors, the orange that is put into the piece a lot gives me the idea that this doll could also symbolize warmth in life.

Question: Where is the artwork from? Comment: The designs and colors make the artwork really stand out.

The Katsina looks like it represents a small figure or figurine. The colors and patterns make the Katsina look familiar in my mind like it's from ancient times. The part of the figures head looks strange to me and I'm not sure what it could represent. It could be representing something religious for a group of people and may be important to ancient culture. Could the stance or the colors of the Katsina be representative of something?

I think the lines coming out of her mouth might mean she is talking to her people. I’m also interested in the triangle and arrow shapes on her clothes, and I wonder about those spool things coming out of her head. They must have some meaning because of their placement above her head.

The statue has tubes on of its head, its sticks out of the "mask" it wears. My question is what the tubes are for? Or what do they represent? They look be hair, that's tied-up or a contraption.

I noticed the pattern on Katsina is familiar to me. It reminds me of something Aztec or Native American. I’m also wondering why the arms on Katsina are in that position. Is the figure supposed to be expressing some sort of emotion such as excitement? Or are they that way for a different reason?

The colors, positioning, and overall composition that is consistent throughout this piece (the Katsina) really feel tribal to me. It is a posed statue that seems to be emulating a representation of something to someone based on its arms positioning upward in a very formal and sharp way. I noticed the use of pattern, color and positioning seems pretty deliberate here.

At first glance looking at the piece my eyes were taken by the details on the head. I assumed that it represents an African women carrying food/fruits on her head. Also I picked up on the thought of it being a African piece by the choice of color. Question: Although it comes off as a African piece wouldn’t there be more color to the clothes or is this due to when the piece was done?

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strawberriestyles · 5 years ago

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Part 1: Too Much

(BANNER BY THE GODDESS HERSELF @adashofniallandasprinkleoflunacy)

Harry X Reader (AU)

In which you try to resolve the case of a fraternity’s haunting in a single night.

Word count: 2.5k

Author’s note: Can I actually finish a Halloween fic by Halloween this year? Doubtful but we will see. Also a big fuck you to Tumblr for getting rid of the horizontal line option that I always place between this section and the actual text and making me do it through code. Anyway, hope y’all enjoy this one. Xx

The house's scent is potent. It is of sweat, mixed perfumes and colognes, and young bodies packed too tightly together. You can endure only moments of it before you’re forced to seek fresh air.

None of the windows are even cracked, no doubt to keep in most of the noise. It takes minutes of shouldering through the odorous crowd before you find an empty stairwell. A window is set into the wall halfway up to the next story. It sticks in its frame as you flip the rusty latch and shove upward against the glass. Your fingers slip. You huff out a frustrated breath before making another attempt.

“Need some help?”

The voice is a shock in this sort of liminal space, between the noise of the first and second floors, and with the panes of glass separating you from the outside world. Your fingers slip again as you twist your neck.

There is a man watching you, sweat from the hotter, busier parts of the house slicking dark hair to his temples and curling the ends around his forehead. He wears worn gray jeans, a flannel with the sleeves cut off layered over a thin white sweatshirt. For the wafts of stale beer spilling down the stairs and the glassy eyes you’ve seen so far since you’ve been here, he looks remarkably alert.

“What?”

“I asked if yeh need some help. That window doesn’ like to budge.”

You give a curt shake of your head. He raises an eyebrow, but spins to return back up the stairs without another word. You heave once more against the stubborn window and sigh.

“Do I need help? No,” you rush before the man’s reached the next landing. “But would I like some? I…yes.”

You avoid eye contact as he descends the few steps he’s traveled. You can almost feel his smile as he slips silently in beside you, positioning his hands at the bottom of the window.

“You pull,” he urges, and together you hoist the window open. There’s a sharp breeze as humidity is yanked out into the night, and then you’re sticking your shoulders through the window frame and gulping in cold air. You can feel the man lean down beside you.

“Are yeh gonna be sick?”

“No.” You take one more deep breath before pulling yourself grudgingly back into the house. “It’s just too much in here.”

He chuckles and nods as though he understands. “Is a bit stuffy.” That’s not exactly what you mean, but you don’t bother to correct him.

“‘M Harry. I live here,” he introduces.

“Y/N,” you answer simply. “And I don’t.”

He’s grinning when you finally look at him straight, green eyes soft and crinkled at the edges. “Tha’s good to know.”

You wait for the inevitable question. For quite a while you’ve dreaded it, the repetitive coversation, but by now you’ve grown accustomed, so you’d like to just get it out of the way and get on with your night. You don’t have to wait long.

“So, wha’s your major?”

Your lips quirk in an amused smile, and there’s no beating around the bush as there was your freshman year. “Parapsychology.”

Harry cocks his head. “Parapsychology…like…”

“Yes, the study of psychic phenomena. My focus is in the paranormal.”

His eyes widen. “Really? I didn’ even know they offered programs like that.”

“Yeah, and you don’t believe in ghosts, and what am I gonna do with my degree, and did I just pick the easiest major—”

“Actually, I think that’s really cool,” interrupts Harry, and you’re surprised enough to fall silent. “And I think this house might be haunted.”

Before you can respond, a group of overdressed girls rush up the stairs, nearly barreling through the two of you. You’re reminded that you’re at a frat party, and slowly the heat and music and smells begin to leak back into the stairwell as if from the fringes of a hazy dream.

“Why do you think that?” You find your voice rising in volume to sound over the suddenly deafening noise.

“Well, quite a few reasons,” Harry begins, stepping closer so that you don’t need to continue shouting. You can smell his cologne. It’s subtle, but pleasant, and you attempt to let it filter out the lingering combination of smells drifting from throughout the house. “One, because—”

The lights flicker and then you’re immersed in darkness. The blindness is pressing, suffocating. The stereo fails, and the music pitches into sorority girls’ screams and frat guys’ laughter. You don’t recognize your own panic until something heavy comes tumbling down the stairs and a hand finds your wrist, yanking you against the window to avoid a collision. Harry’s voice is just inches from your ear.

“Well, we’ve had electrical issues.”

His amused chuckle breathes against your hair and tickles your temple. Your lips part as a relieved sigh shakes from your lungs. Harry’s cool fingers tighten around your wrist once before releasing you, his elbow brushing yours as he leans against the window frame beside you.

“Flickering lights, or complete outages like this?” you mutter.

Feet pound against the stairs as someone races up to the second floor, and you press yourself further back against the window, the chill air licking your lower back.

“Are yeh sure you’re cut out for this?”

“What?”

“For the paranormal. I mean,” Harry begins, speaking slowly, methodically, as though he’s weaving his way through a minefield, “just that your pulse is racin’. Yeh seem a bit freaked out, and we’ve only lost power.”

“How do you know my pulse is racing?”

“Could feel it in your wrist.”

You scoff. “So, that means you know what my major should be better than I do?’

Harry laughs nervously. The pressure of his arm against yours disappears as he lifts his hand toward his face. “I’m just sayin’, yeh haven’ even encountered any ghosts yet, have yeh? Unless it’s me makin’ your heart that fast.”

You can hear the humor in his voice, but that doesn’t help the sudden heat that flares up beneath your skin. You’re briefly glad for the darkness that masks your change in expression, and then a flashlight clicks on from the top of the staircase.

“Yo, is she good?”

Both of you turn toward the first floor, where the flashlight’s beam is directed. A girl is lying there, her legs sprawled out before her, head tilted back against a dusty wooden end table. Her glassy eyes flutter in the direction of the stairs.

“She’s fine,” calls a friend squatting down beside her, “just tripped down the stairs.”

“Okay, everybody just remain calm,” instructs the bearer of the flashlight. He starts down the steps and swivels the light back and forth, blinding you. Harry lifts a hand in front of your face.

“C’mon, mate,” he grumbles.

“We must’ve just blown a breaker,” projects Harry’s frat brother, ignoring his protest, "because the neighbor’s lights are still on. I’m gonna go check it out.” And with that, he trots down the stairs, steps over the drunken girl, and turns out of sight, taking any light with him. All that you’re left with is the glow from the moon, which functions pathetically due to the heavy cloud cover.

“By the way,” Harry says, pulling your gaze back through the black to level on the space where you assume his face might be, “what are you supposed to be?”

“Do you really not know a referee when you see one? I’ve got the whistle and everything.”

He laughs again, louder this time. “In my defense, the referees I’ve known don’ look anythin’ like you do right now.”

He can’t even see you currently, which means there’s an image of you etched into his mind. There’s that flaring heat beneath your skin again. You had thought your costume might be a little too short for a public appearance. It was certainly shorter than it had appeared on the model in the online picture. But you'd reasoned with yourself: it would be dark, everyone would be intoxicated, no one would even remember what you wore by classes tomorrow. The truth of it was, you didn’t have another costume and everyone hates a Halloween buzzkill. Now, you’re not sure if you’re regretting the choice or glad for it.

“Well, what are you supposed to be?”

“Ha ha,” he says. “Very funny.”

“What?”

A short pause. “John Bender? The Breakfast Club?”

“Oh, right.”

“C’mon, I’ve even got the leather gloves."

“I didn’t notice.”

There’s a whirring noise, the electricity sputters, and the lights kick back on. Thumping bass picks back up through the restarted speakers. The crowd of partiers cheers and there’s a rush of movement as everyone gets back to the festivities, grinding together in the living room, filling plastic cups at the quickly draining keg in the laundry room. It catches you off guard again, the too much of it all, after the darkness and the muttering.

“Can I get yeh a drink?” Harry asks. He’s watching you closely, discerningly, his eyes following the twitchy nibbling of your lower lip. You stop abruptly.

“Actually, I—”

“Look, unless you’ve sworn off alcohol, it looks like yeh need a drink. We’ve got a closet full of booze, it doesn’ have to be beer.”

You shrug a single shoulder, and Harry takes that as his cue. He places a leather-gloved palm on the small of your back and leads you down to the first landing, around the dining room table set up for beer pong, and into the kitchen. It’s nothing less than you would expect from a house full of boys—sticky dishes piled up in the sink, food stuck to the floor in front of the refrigerator, clear liquor spilled across the island and dripping down the front of a cabinet. The room is empty of people, though.

Harry’s hand leaves your back with a lingering brush of his fingertips and you try not to react to the loss of its warmth. There are two pantries—with a house this size, you’re not surprised—and he opens up the lefthand door. Each shelf is stocked full with bottles, some unopened, some holding onto their last dregs.

“So,” he says, “pick your poison.”

Your eyes scan the shelves, tequilas and rums and endless supplies of vodka. Your stomach churns at the mere amount of spirits, and suddenly you can smell the fruity scent of whatever’s still pooling beneath the island, sharp and acrid.

“Uh, can you just pick for me?” you ask, attempting to breathe through your mouth.

Harry glances over his shoulder at you but doesn’t prod, just pulls a bottle from the top shelf. He screws off the top and begins to pour into a black plastic cup. He looks up at you, as if to ask when to stop, then adds a few more dashes when he sees the look on your face. In the fridge he finds a bottle of cranberry juice and mixes it into your drink. He slides the cup across the countertop toward you when he’s finished, strategically avoiding the puddle of liquor.

“Drink,” he urges when you don’t make a movement.

You lift the cup to your lips and gulp down a few swallows, forcing yourself not to gag. In truth, it’s not so bad. Whatever he’s chosen isn’t so strongly flavored; the cranberry juice masks the brunt of it. You’re relieved when it sits in your stomach without protest and you dare to take another swig.

“Okay?”

You give a quick nod. “Yeah, I’m sorry. I just feel really off tonight.”

“Halloween can do that to yeh,” Harry says, his face splitting into a grin. “All the monsters and everythin’.”

“Mmmm,” you hum. “So, what’s your major anyway? We didn’t talk about you. No, let me guess. English. No, history!”

“Sociology, actually,” Harry answers. “So close.”

You give him a soft smile and run a thumb along the rim of your cup before tipping back another large mouthful. It’s even easier to get down this time. “I never would have guessed that one.”

“To be fair, I’m a history minor.”

“Oh, yeah? So I was right.”

Harry squints at you, his lips puckered. “Uh, no. You were trying to guess my major. You were wrong. Don’t be a sore loser.”

“Oh, I don’t lose.” You shake your head quickly, and to emphasize your point, you swallow the last quarter of your drink. It seemed like a good idea until your stomach twists.

“Woah, woah, slow down speed racer." Harry is around the edge of the island, a hand on your arm, the other peeling the cup from your fingers, surprised when he finds it drained. “Okay, then. Feelin’ better?”

You nod, licking the dribbles of cranberry juice from your lips and stepping away from him. Your stomach has settled and a buzz has already begun to kick in. His hand feels warmer, his scent more potent. You’d thought that maybe the alcohol would dull your senses but instead they all seem to be heightened.

Harry raises an eyebrow but drops his hand and keeps his distance. “Great,” he says. “So, are we gonna investigate the haunting?”

You splutter out a laugh which fades into an amused smile at the sight of Harry’s expectant look.

“You want me to help you figure out who’s haunting your frat house?”

“Or what,” Harry adds, a dimple appearing in his cheek as he returns a smile of his own. “Could be a demon or somethin’, couldn’ it?”

You roll your eyes and reach for your empty cup, but Harry slides his arm across the counter in front of it. “Think you’re cut off for now, love.”

“So, you want me, slightly buzzed, to find out who—or what—is haunting your frat house, during the middle of a Halloween party.”

“Are yeh buzzed?” Harry grins again, and he’s so charming that you have to clasp your fingers together to keep from doing that flirty, touchy thing that drunk girls are always doing around charming guys. It always gives you secondhand embarrassment, watching them get all feely. But you can’t blame them for it. It’s like an itch you can’t scratch, this need to know the texture of his curls, or the give of his chest as you shove playfully at him. Oh, you’re sickening yourself.

“But Halloween’s the perfect time to do it, don’ yeh think?” Harry continues. “Shouldn’ the paranormal be, like, stronger right now? All Hallows' Eve.”

You shrug. “Yeah, they do say that.”

“Then, let’s do it. Can’ pay yeh for it, but it would be fun, right? Were yeh actually enjoyin’ the party, anyway?”

“Not really,” you concede.

Harry waits, his gaze imploring. And how are you supposed to say no to him, after you’ve just admitted to yourself that you want to touch his hair?

You sigh. “Fine. But if we find anything that’s not simply a ghost, I’m out.”

Harry grins that dimpled grin and straightens up. His tongue peeks out to wet his lips, and there’s a new look in his eyes. Curiosity. Excitement.

“Understood."

Part 2: The Creeps

#harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fan fiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fan fic #harry styles fic #harry styles smut #harry styles angst #harry styles blurb #harry styles one shot #see through

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malereader-inserts · 6 years ago

Text

Leave Me Be (But Don’t)

Fandom: The Vampire Diaries/ The Original Pairing: The Mikaelsons x Brother!Reader Summary: Affection is a key role to function as a human being, it appears that also helps with vampires and a witch Word Count: 2142 Request: “In case I forget my own request (lol), I would like to request a very VERY affectionate Mikaelson!reader (like hugs and kisses to everyone in the morning) wake up not feeling like everyday so the family has to cheer up him up (or they do the same thing like the reader lol, whatever suit you). “ A/n: It got out of hand because I was trying to decide which idea fit better, so here’s some backstory to the request.

What the Mikaelsons loved about you was that you were somewhat loved by everyone else.

What the Mikaelsons hated about you was that you were everything everyone loved.

You were the youngest of the siblings, the one that had no tendency to kill unless necessary, the one that was full of sunshine smiles and childlike wonders in your eyes. The brother who was trying to live life without enemies. The Mikaelson who, despite seeing so many tragedies, hold wonder in his mind and carries happiness.

Your siblings knew what you were capable of, you had the anger of your father and the cunning of your mother. Killings wasn’t your first rodeo and revenge were always sweeter with you. You were, after all, a Mikaelson.

You were mainly the reason why your siblings got over their petty fights, you were the voice of reason. You were always on the fence between Elijah’s and Klaus’ bitter spats, helping in both sides of the argument and always stepping back to let them sort it out. You never picked a fight, you never had the reason to fight.

When you were in Mystic Falls, it was clear that many of the beloved “Protect Elena” group loved you. How you were calmed and friendly, something they never expected from the dreaded Original family.

“How do you cope with your family?” Caroline asked, looking up from her notebook, to see you leaning back into the booth.

“It’s not hard,” You responded, your arms cross over your chest, “You remind them that they are loved.”

You and your siblings were deprived of love, sometimes your siblings forget who they are. It was an emotional day when you find out if your siblings ever switched their humanity off, you were always the one to bring them back. You were their anchor, so you prevent your siblings from going off the railing you do everything to give the love and affection they needed.

Most morning, depending what family member was around that time (since Klaus has the sport of daggering siblings) you would often greet them with your charming smile, a hug and sometimes a light kiss on the cheek.

When you notice Klaus painting his stress away, you would often put light music and make him a hot brew of tea, he is always surprised when you try to take care of him. You always respond with, “Well, you’re my brother.”

“Half-brother.”

“A brother, nevertheless.”

You would grin at him, the hybrid’s heart would swell three times bigger, as you pat him on his cheek cheekily before leaving him be. You often the one to calm Rebekah down, especially when she is having a meltdown. You would let her rant to you as you braid her hair.

“This is why you’re my favourite brother,” Rebekah would conclude, you never point out how she continuously finishes her rant with that statement.

“Oh?”

“You care too much.”

“You care too little.”

Rebekah would hug you afterwards, feeling so much better. She would hold you tight but you held on tighter. Kol was harder to be affectionate towards to, whilst Klaus had a soft spot for your actions, Kol never reacted in an emotional way. That was until he found his head on your lap as you were reading, you running your hands through his hair.

Kol would stare up at you, not a thought wasting how much he adored his little brother - unafraid to be you. You unphased with his staring as you started to read out loud your book, Kol finally felt at peace - that was enough for him.

Freya was easy to lose in her sense of bitterness against her mother, but you were always there to bring her back. To feel wanted and cared for, how you would throw your arm over her shoulder and pull her close. To playfully stick your tongue out and tease her in front of potential lovers.

Elijah was very big on your affectionate personality, how you would grasp his shoulder and squeeze it before leaving. How you would give him a high five, because it amuses you how out of character it is for your elder brother to do so - he still does it.

Sometimes they forget affection goes beyond physical contact, you would express your love verbally in discreet phrases. You would never miss the opportunity to tell them how proud you are to be their brother, or express how impressiveness in their intelligence or skill.

You would express your care when you do things when they never asked, not because you felt obliged to but because of you never in the troubles of drama, you had way more free time than you wanted.

They were so used to your affectionate personality, they almost forgot to do it back. You never the one to feel unloved, but sometimes it would be nice to hear words of love, to be the one to be hugged and tease. To feel like if you were to disappear you would be missed.

The family was slow to make repair of their mistake.

The morning was the norm, how you would happily greet everyone with a smile that could blind anyone. Giving them a good squeeze before allowing them to go do their business, it calmed them down before the drama ahead.

You didn’t expect to be dragged with your siblings to find the witch behind the misery of your family. A witch with a revenge plan.

“It’s always fun to keep the Mikaelsons on their toes,” She stood in front of you and your family with a menacing gleam.

You shove your hands in your bomber jacket, standing straight but with no intention to attack unless she starts.

“And it’s always fun to see what each of you fear.”

You knew right away that you were probably in your mind, yet everything was white. You stand around looking confused until you see the witch in front of you with a soft smile standing in front of you, with no intent to harm.

“I always liked you,” She started, “(Y/n) Mikaelson, the righteous brother, you have a lot of fear in you.”

“Thanks,”

“You’re afraid of your family hating you, why? Well, I can see that you know what you’re capable of. I can see how you’re scared of your own hands, the damage you could do and yet you’re scared that they’ll finally see how truly disgusting you could get.”

“There are no good vampires,”

“I can see in your mind that even if they blame you, hate you, throw you away you would do anything for them. I don’t understand, scared of being unloved?”

“Scared of losing family.”

“You care too much,” She noted.

“I care enough, that’s all they need.”

“And you?”

“What about me?”

“That’s exactly the question, what of you? Are you the brother that will always play the happy boy or will you just become like them?” You stare at her, blinking slowly, “You have a hurricane behind you, a storm at your tips and fire in your breath. Your heart is made out of lightning and your mind is a tsunami - you’re a walking disaster waiting to be felt. When will you tell them the massacre you did in 1927? Will you break it to them that you saw your father and you almost killed him? Or how innocent people lost their lives because of your thirst?”

“I tried,” You whispered, “I’m better than that.”

“The murders? The merciless killings? How you went off the radar, how can you have the look of a pleading child washed away?” She taunted, “Are you that scared you will lose your family despite them doing much worst?”

You stare at the ground before your eyes flicker up to her, “I’ve made mistakes.”

“Lives have been lost, how can they possibly love a monster?”

Gasping awake, you found yourself in bed. You seemed confused for a moment because you were sure you passed out in the courtyard of the Mikaelson Compound. Rolling out of bed, you noticed that your jacket was off you, leaving you with your shirt that was roughened in your sleep.

Staring at the mirror, you remember the encounter. You knew that you were worth something in the family, it’s just that you were upset. You tried blocking the worst out of your head yet it truly defines who you are.

Moving, more like stumbling, to the kitchen you see your family in deep conversation. As you enter the room, they expected your cheerful smile and a happy morning greeting. Their lips curved upwards at the sight of you, but when you blinked slowly and tiredly, your hair flying in every direction, they immediately noticed a problem.

“Morning sleepyhead,” Rebekah commented, hopefully getting small laughter from you.

“Hmh,” You responded, sitting on the seat and leaning your head on the table.

They frowned, it seemed like you weren’t yourself. Klaus instantly regretting in bring you along to their showdown. He and the rest of the family were okay, the witch never exploited their fears and-

“Oh,” Elijah realised, soon after the rest of the siblings did. Slowly making his way to you, he runs his hand through your hair, “What did that witch do to you, little lion?”

“It’s nothing,” You huffed, lifting your head up as you leaned your chin on your resting arm, “Nothing that should be worried over.”

“But, it’s you,” Klaus explains, not so softly as Elijah, “You’re our little one, and anything that bothers you affects us.”

“Because you don’t deserve to be unhappy,” Kol piped up, he sends you thumbs up.

You looked down before sighing, “I’m good.”

“No, you’re not,” Freya concluded, wrapping her arms around your middle as she leans her head on your shoulder, chest to back, “Don’t believe what that witch did to you.”

“She’ll pay, I promise,” Klaus reassured.

You hummed, tilting your head at your sister that was practically lying on you. A moment passed as they figured you weren’t going to talk. Another moment passed as they understood.

They barely passed the morning, but without your morning affection of a bright smile, hugs and kisses, and harmless teased, they seem lost. Stripped of your loving touches, they realise that they had become so dependent on you that they forgot to show how much you meant to them.

Whilst they were able to put up a fight with the witch, you couldn’t because somewhere along the way, no matter you try to convince yourself, you lost your self-worth. Your mind was weak, easy to manipulate. And for once, they had a rational solution.

“Family day?” Freya suggested, it was soft and she could feel you loosen up.

“I’ll grab the movies,” Kol announced, “(Y/n) gets the first choice!”

“I’ll grab the pillows and blankets, I know you love your comfort,” Rebekah teased, ruffling your hair before following Kol out the room.

“Guess that makes me in charge of the snacks,” Klaus concluded, “What do you want? There’s nothing in the house.”

“Like always,” You joked, feeling brighten up as a small smile started to appear.

Klaus had a playful shine to his eyes, shaking his head before kissing your forehead and leaving the compound to retrieve the goodies. Freya latches herself off you, peppering you with kisses as she smushes your face between her hands.

“I’d like to think you were the cutest baby out of all us.”

“No doubt about that.” Elijah agreed, if you could, you would be blushing shades of red.

“I’ll help the others set up the other room,” Freya nodded, leaving the eldest and youngest brother alone in the kitchen.

You sighed, “Gonna give me a lecture?”

“No,” Elijah responded, pulling you into a hug, “Forgive us for not tending to your needs, you do so much for us that we forget to be thankful.”

“It’s okay, ‘lijah,” You hug him back, but this time he was holding you tight, “I know you don’t mean to.”

Elijah pulled back, wondering how he was fortunate to have a brother that was so loving, so caring and yet so understanding. A brother, a Mikaelson, that respected each other. You held no bad blood as he sees a familiar smile.

In your siblings' eyes, you never really grew up. You were still that little eight-year-old Viking, with a wooden sword. You were still that ten years old, tugging on your siblings when you got a nightmare. Yes, you may be older now, wise and no less than a fool - you will always be their baby brother.

“We’re proud of you, more than you realise.”

Yes, they recognise that to keep themselves happy was to make sure you were happy.

With that, it seems like the sun started to peak out the clouds.

#klaus mikaelson #Kol mikaelson #elijah mikaelson #klaus mikaelson imagine #elijah mikaelson imagine #kol mikaelson imagine #elijah mikaelson x male!reader #klaus mikaelson x male!reader #kol mikaelson x male!reader #rebekah mikaelson #Rebekah Mikaelson imagine #mikaelson x male!reader #x male reader #platonic

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razorblade180 · 5 years ago

Text

Lasting Embers part27: Winding down

The fifth day of final family bonding is in full effect. Midday sun shines down on Tenzen’s back yard where him and both his parents currently are. Friday’s were usually days when they decided to use the grill so why change up the tradition now? Might as well go a bit grander than usual, which is exactly what they did.

Mercury:*flipping burgers* Thanks for the invitation you two. It’s nice to have a moment of peace.

Emerald:Not to mention good food. Constantly going around the world is fun and all but you do not always end up near good restaurants.

Nora:*wearing an apron* No problem you two. The food would be better if Ren was helping but as you can see.....

Tenzen:*fully powered and standing still*

Ren:*watching him*

Nora:He’s busy at the moment.

Emerald:I don’t mind the light show. It’s actually kinda pretty.

Orange and pink aura flow upward into the air as usual when his semblance is in use. The added effect of lightning of the same color crackles calmly around his body thanks to his close and once again his usual appearance has had a color swap. Nora honestly thinks the pink hair with an orange strip looks better on him. Not to mention his orange eyes.

Mercury:You know it might be a good idea to change your semblance name before you go to beacon and everyone sees it.

Tenzen:What’s wrong with Overflow? It’s literally what my aura is doing.

Mercury:Yeah but is it cool? There’s other things you could call it to make it slightly cooler. Like Over Soul....

Nora:Limit Break!

Emerald:Soul Surge.....

Ren:Oooo that’s a good one.

Tenzen:Hey! I thought you were gonna be on my side?

Ren:It was just a thought. You ready to attempt your new move?

Tenzen:*shakes out his arms and legs* All right, let’s see if I’ve improved.

He takes a deep breath and puts his hands together. Slowly his aura stops flowing up and starts concentrating itself behind him. Everybody watches intently as it starts to take the shape of a silhouetted version of himself. It increases in a size a bit bigger than him and starts moving independently before fading away. Sweat drips down the poor boys face.

Ren:You got it to move and last longer this time.

Tenzen:*huff* Yeah but it isn’t near perfect yet. Man....*huff* I usually don’t have too much trouble with aura manipulation.

Ren:Nobody has ever done anything like you are right now. I’m learning new things just by watching you.

Mercury:Uhh what did I just see? It was almost like seeing monkey boy’s semblance but more intense.

Nora:Tenzen as exceptional aura control and can use it ways most people can’t thanks to his semblance. He’s moved it around freely in small ways like wrapping it around people for protection or to grab them. Now he’s actually trying to mold it into things.

Mercury:So you choose yourself?

Tenzen:It’s both the easiest and most complex thing I can think of right now. After that maybe I could get crazy with it.

Mercury:.....

Mercury:You gave yourself a Stand.....

Tenzen:Why would you say something like that..?

Emerald:As far as semblances go I think Tenzen might have the weirdest I’ve ever seen. I mean your aura seems boundless yet you still run out like everyone else.

Tenzen:I like to think of it sort of like a stamina bar. Let’s say my regular bar reaches up to 100% and my aura ranges in between that number and zero. My semblance breaks that cap and makes my aura amount 500%. Yeah it gives me way more to work with but instead of my semblance just eating away at my aura, it eats away at the bar itself. So when it’s all said and done, I can end up with a bar that can only hold 25%

Emerald:Sounds tricky; you’ll end up only being able to take minimum damage if that happens. Is that what happened in the woods?

Tenzen:Basically, I’m surprised what aura I had held up against me falling from the cliff. What makes things scarier is I knew even with Jaune around to use his semblance it wouldn’t help much. We’ve tested it before and it would restore the aura but not the bar; that only comes back with time.

Mercury:Yet despite all of that you rushed in to save everyone. Risky move but respectable.

Nora:Please don’t make that habit.....

Tenzen:Mmmm no promises. *smiles*

Nora:*grumbles* Why are you like me?

Ren:Alright, you seem like you still have more than enough power to attempt your other move.

Tenzen:*Grinning* Oh we’re way pass me “attempting” it. I was actually going to try it in training but then all the cult shenanigans happened.

Emerald:(Shenanigans, he makes it sound like it’s not the craziest thing in the world. Well....it kinda isn’t but still)

Once a again he takes a calming breath before bending his right arm and stares at his hand. Aura and lightning dust travel down to his palm until his hand is engulfed in it.

Tenzen:Done.....

Ren:How!? When did you- *smiles* it took me forever how to influence my aura with dust. You really are a genius at this stuff.

Tenzen:Well it helps I have the best teacher ever. *powers down*

Nora:Wow, I see how it is. Not like we spent countless nights together sparring and perfecting that together.

Tenzen:That’s because you’re the best mom ever. *hugs her* I love you!!!!!

Nora:I love you too my little ninja.

“You still go by little ninja?”

Everyone turns to see Yujin walking into the backyard. She has a white sack over her shoulder.

Yujin:Sup sherbet head.

Tenzen:First of all, that nickname can die. Second, why are you here?

Yujin:Want me to leave?

Tenzen:I didn’t say that at all. Just surprised is all.

Yujin:Home is a little.....lonely. I tell dad to spend time with Yang and sitting on my porch gets old. So I thought “why not go see Tenzen?”

Tenzen:*smirks* So you’re here for me?

Yujin:*red* Don’t make this weird.

Ren:Well obviously you are welcomed here anytime.

Mercury:Too bad you didn’t bring any food to this little cookout.

Yujin:*pulls chips out the bag* I know how Friday’s work around here.

Mercury:New favorite person right here. Besides Emerald of course.

Emerald:Nice save dork.

Yujin:I hate to ask but is there any chance I can inspect all of your weapons?

Tenzen:*squints* I know your game.....

Yujin:*nervous* Pfft what game?

Tenzen:Did you come here to socialize or get weapon ideas?

Yujin:.......Can’t it be both?

Tenzen:Will it?

Yujin:*grabs his arms* Let me tinker around with my weapon please? If I have one more emotional conversation I might fall apart. Do you want me to fall apart in your backyard? I’ve learned to cry really easily the pass five days. I’m holding back tears right now man!

Tenzen:......

Yujin:*tearing up*....

Tenzen:Oh you weren’t joking! Uhh fine, just-

Yujin:Thanks!

Just like that she emptied what was left in the bag to reveal a sketch pad and some intricate tools for salvaging whatever she can from her sword. By the time he looked back up at her she had her hair in a ponytail and glasses on.

Yujin:I already know where you guys keep all your weapons so....*darts off*

Emerald:How does she know that?

Tenzen:Don’t ask me. Maybe her real semblance is sniffing out weapons. At least she’s happy.

Nora:How has she been about all this? Her face looks kinda paler than usual. Also a bit thinner?

Tenzen:She actually looked worse a few days ago.Looks like things are getting a bit better but I’m worried it might not stick. After all, leaving day is soon. That’s gonna hard on her.

Nora:Don’t forget yourself....

Brief silence comes after that statement. All adults looking at him sadly as he just looks at the ground for a moment. The mood changes though when he raises his head with a smile.

Tenzen:I’ll be just fine! Sure I’ll miss all you guys but honestly school might keep me busy and you all will be back before I know it. I am looking at some of the most capable fighters in Remnant after all.

Mercury:*wraps arm around him and Emerald* Thanks kid, the cult won’t know what hit em!

Emerald:Hell yeah! *all three laughing*

Nora:*frowning at Ren*.....

Ren:I know. He’s not gonna talk about it though. I’ve tried everything.

Nora......!!! We’re not completely out of options yet. I gonna go check on Yujin.

Ren:Please don’t be pushy.

Nora:Mmmmm no promises. *smiles*

Inside Yujin was having a field day. Her house was nothing quite like there’s seeing how the entire building actually uses to house other people like an apartment studio. Now different floors have different functions. Their living room and kitchen were connected on the first floor since it was more than big enough. The spiral staircase upstairs led upstairs to a hallway with rooms for four people which she always found weird. Two of course were their rooms and at best a third round would occupy Merc and Em. Maybe the fourth room was for her or Jaune if they visited? She could not imagine sleeping under the same roof as Tenzen; especially with what happened recently. There was a final door upstairs that obviously was the restroom.

Nora:Hey Yujin can we have a minute to chat!?

Yujin:I’m on the dance floor!

Nora:*going upstairs* You know we do more than dance up here right?

Yujin:I know, but anytime Tenzen sends a video of him doing a routine it’s in here.

She was setting on the floor with her sketch pad. Different designs of everyone’s weapons over the years were set in front of her.

Nora:Woah, you found all of them.

Yujin:From Beacon days, the fall, Salem quest modifications, post Salem, etc. they are all so similar but different. I’m hoping one of these will spark an idea. Transforming weapons was never my finest skill set. Made too many moving parts or not enough to help. *Sketching*

Nora:Turning a sword into gauntlets sounds rough. Why not just make gauntlets with hidden blades.

Yujin:My sword skills depend on me being to do things like twirl it and hold it backhanded sometimes. Merging the two limits that. I need to find away to fluidly transition in between them. The way Ren’s blade retract in is giving me a few ideas but not much.

Nora:(I don’t think I’ve seen so many sketches for one weapon since Jaune tried to change his.)

Yujin:Maybe I should forget the gauntlets all together? Sigh, not like they’ve been useful.... *slumps shoulders*

Nora:....Are you-

Yujin:It’ll pass, don’t worry about me. *keeps sketching*

Nora:Yujin I have a favor to ask you.

Yujin:Sure thing Mrs.Valkyrie.

Nora:You know you can just call me Nora?

Yujin:I know, but I like saying your last name since it’s cool.

Nora:*smiles* I would say call me Auntie but that might be weird since you’re crushing on my son.

The pencil breaks as she accidentally put too much pressure on it. Why is she always getting caught off guard like this? It’s like the entire world is trying to make her deal with at least one emotional problem a day. Blood rushes to her face and her ears turn red as memories from two days ago surface.

Yujin:I....*mumbles* Tenzen is just a friend....

Nora:I wonder how many times I said that about Ren? Admitting it helps a lot you know? *smirking* I’m not saying go confront him about it; I realize how much of a flirt my wild child is. Personally I blame all his fans.

Yujin:I cannot tell you how many people I see wearing a shirt with his mask on it. “Nobody dances like TZ!” It’s like everyone goes a bit crazy for him and they don’t even know him.

Nora:His personality and energy are very infectious. A people pleaser like him knows how to keep spirits up. That’s actually why I wanted to talk to you.

Yujin:???

Nora:It might not be noticeable but Tenzen also has his hangs up like you.

Yujin:Really? He seems fine and calm about most things that happen. It honestly makes me a bit jealous seeing him handle stress so well.

Nora:He gets that from his father. Still he has them for sure. My son is just the type to put his problems on the back burner and prioritize everyone else. Problem is he never takes a moment to himself and faces them until it’s a bit late.

Yujin:Huh, I had no idea. Actually, the other day I did mention how much I admired how strong he was compared to me in situations and he was about to say something until he got cut off. Can’t say if it was about his problems but he did seem....sad.

Nora:Listen, I doubt he’ll tell anyone how he feels about everything going right now but I do know they’ll come out eventually when it’s too late. Can you just make sure to check in on him sometimes when we leave? I want him to have a person to talk to when he needs it.

Yujin:Oh of course! Can’t say I can really picture him needing my help much but I’ll be there.

Nora:*smiles* That’s a relief. I wouldn’t know what to do with myself if he suffered in silence after we left. My heart wouldn’t take it.

Yujin:......Nora, you’re a good mom.

Nora:Yang is better, or at least in my opinion.

Yujin:Agree to disagree.

Nora:Not even going to entertain this conversation huh?

Yujin:Not in the slightest.

..........

Nora:.........It’s not really my place to pry but I hope you know she loves you and right now the things you’re doing are really hurting her-

Yujin:She’s hurt me my whole life!

The entire room echoes with that yell. Nora just stares calmly as the girls anger quickly vanishes as it came.

Yujin:Sorry I.....I didn’t mean to yell at you. That was wrong.

Nora:It happens. *grabs her hand*

Yujin:Why does it feel like people are taking sides? *trembling* The way everyone keeps praising her and just wants me forgive makes it feel like I’m wrong for acting this way. Everyone seems to be on her side while I’m just alone.

Nora:Trust me when I say nobody thinks you’re wrong for being upset. It’s just we know Yang and that she is doing everything she can and more for you. We want you to see that. Leaving you a second time is killing her but sometimes hard choices have to be made. Even if that choice feels wrong. You know about Pyrrha right?

Yujin:Of course, without her I might not even be here.

Nora: For a long time her sacrifice didn’t feel like the right call. Going off to a fight she couldn’t win felt like nothing but a waste; especially to Jaune. Looking back on it though we couldn’t have been more wrong. Pyrrha gave people precious time to keep evacuating and Ruby might not have found out about her powers without her help. That dragon certainly would’ve done more harm.

Yujin:.....

Nora:I’m not saying you have to forgive your mother right now. But I do hope that one day you can look back at all this and take some sort of pride from the fact that she’s doing it to protect everyone; including you most of all. By the way *smiles* I think the gauntlet part of your weapon is one of the coolest parts.

Yujin:Nora, can I ask you for something? It’s...*red* a bit strange. You’re not my mom but.....I mean I would like it if you-

Nora calmly pulls her into a hug. Allowing the girl to just rest into her embrace. Her heart rate starts to speed up and her breath a little heavy. She’s crying into Nora’s shirt heavily with no signs of stopping.

Yujin:How’d you know?

Nora:It’s all I ever wanted as a kid too.

Yujin:The worst part about this feeling is it won’t last. You’re leaving too.

Nora:*tightens hug*(You poor child. )

[Tai’s house]

Ruby:Downloading and uploading countless videos across different scrolls and onto a computer is one thing. Putting those files in chronological order, making sure they aren’t corrupted and then onto a scroll with enough space is an entirely different ball game. People who use computers for a living have my respect.

Jaune:You can take a break if you want. We still have two days left.

Ruby:*holds up scroll* I’m done. Do we have coffee?

Jaune:What!?

Ruby:Coffee, I’ve been up for a full day doing this. I would like-

Jaune:You finished with two days to spare? Ruby that’s-

Ruby:I know, “Ruby you’re so amazing!” I appreciate praise but right now I feel like I’m dreaming.

Jaune:Cream and five sugars?

Ruby:Black......

Jaune:*eyes widened*..........who are you?

Ruby:I need a drink that’s gonna slap me in the face. Plus I’m a grown woman.

Jaune:*hands her a mug* So all that’s left is the journal then.

Ruby:Don’t forget to wrap it all up. *sips*....... hey can you put-

Jaune:*hands her another mug* Cream and sugars in it?

Ruby:*red* You suck....

Jaune:You swallow.....

Ruby:But you still kiss me afterwards.*finger gun* damn where’s Yang when I need her? That was a good comeback.

Jaune:*points to the couch*

Yang:*passed out*Zzzzzzz

Ruby:Guess she needed a break too. I hope she can stay awake on look out when we leave. This stress might get to her.

Jaune:Both of you don’t talk much about what happened over the decade. Almost like you’re avoiding it.

Ruby:Not really, wasn’t much to say. Travel, hide, spy, kill, hunt, research.... It felt like a giant manhunt honestly. They were constantly looking for us while we looked for them. Only difference is they also had to spend time progressing their plans. We had some cool fights and close calls. More than I would like.

Jaune:You ready to go back?

Ruby:Ready as I’ll ever be. It’s wrong to say but I think of piece of me was relieved to learn the mission wasn’t over yet. Starting to move forward made me a bit anxious. Am I wrong for that?

Jaune:*shrugs* Consider this a chance to do the mission the right way. You’re the one who said that this time around it’s not about vengeance.

Ruby:That’s right; protecting others are serving justice. Just like it should be.

Yang:*waking up* I’ll drink to that. Someone poor me some cof-*handed a mug*

Jaune:It’s black coffee.

Yang:Is there any other way to drink it? *downs it admittedly*

Ruby:*shudders* That will always freak me out. Good news, the scroll is done. How’s the journal coming along.

Yang:Honestly I do not know anymore. I write but I keep wondering if any of it is actually any good. I’m worried she won’t even read it.

Jaune:She’ll read it. Maybe not in the beginning but she’ll definitely read it eventually.

Yang:I hope so. The other problem is how can anyone express everything they want to say to their kid with just one journal? There’s no time to make another one and everything I write in this one keeps reminding of more things I want to tell her. Before I know it I’m at end of a page and I still haven’t told her everything I think she should hear. *looks at it* Pouring out your emotions onto paper has been more frustrating than fighting Salem.

Jaune:Sigh, what’s with the women in this family struggling with emotions but excelling in combat. All three of you have that same exact problem which is surprising. Tai seems to be fine at sharing feelings and he’s the only DNA link you all share.

Yang:*grumbles*........

Ruby:I think you’ve been thinking of this journal wrong. It’s not meant to replace you or even say farewell. Think of it more as “see you later.” Because you will see her later Yang Xiao Long. No ifs, ands, or buts about it. So stop treating it like it’s the last thing you’ll ever do for her.

Jaune:She’s right. It’s not like you to prepare for the worst. You always plan for the best!

Yang:......

Jaune and Ruby: *smiling*........

Yang:Sigh, who am I to resist a double leader pep talk? *grabs it* better get back to work then.

[Menagerie,Oasis]

Adam:*packing* Jacquelyn can you hand me my flashlight?

Jacquelyn:Here you go. Finally packing for the trip?

Adam:Don’t wanna forget anything last minute. It counts as work but it has to be done.

Jacquelyn:Fair enough. I mean Jael has been packing for beacon for awhile too.

Adam:I’ve noticed, she’s packing like her spot is already guaranteed there.

Jacquelyn:You don’t think she is gonna pass the exam?

Adam:I do, I’m just glad she does too. I’d be concerned if she packed light.

Jacquelyn:It’s weird to think everyone is leaving so soon. Sienna’s missions for the shadows, your mission, Jael’s entrance and initiation exam. Things are going to get lonely around here.....

Adam:I’ve actually been thinking about that. *stands up* what do you say about going on another venture across the world when Jael gets in? You haven’t done that in years.

Jacquelyn:That’s an option. It wouldn’t feel right though. I’ve gotten used to having someone to talk to on those trips. *holds his hand* he was never much for conversation but he kept me company.

Adam:He also tried attacking you a few times.

Jacquelyn:Yeah but I could beat him with one hand tied behind my back; still can. *smirks*

Adam:Oh so you’re that confident.

Jacquelyn:You’re strong my love but face it, I’ve always been too much for you to handle. *rubs his face*

Adam:Sounds like a challenge I just might except. *grabs her waste*

Jacquelyn:Careful, I don’t accept challenges with rewards. I just might have you try to put another baby in me if you lose.

Adam:I’d do that win or lose regardless.

Jacquelyn:Who are you and what have you done with Adam?

Adam:I’m Jacquelyn Frost’s husband *leans closer* so in other words I’m the luckiest man alive.

Both of them start kissing and getting a bit handsy when-

Jael:*red* Ahem!!

Adam:......

Jacquelyn:*grinning* Hi sweetie!!!!

Jael:......Dinner is ready. *slowly walks away*

Sienna:*walks by with her ears covered* You two are gross.

Adam:*face palms* We forgot about the door and their hearing.

Sienna:Speak for yourself. They’re old enough to know to leave the house when this happens. *happily hugging him* I at least wanted to have one fun day out of the week. Don’t tell me I’m the only one who’s thought about it?

Adam:........

Adam:*red* Tomorrow.....

Jacquelyn:You here that you little wild flowers!?

Sienna and Jael:Unfortunately!!!!!

Adam:Let’s go eat dinner.

Jacquelyn:Kay!

58 notes · View notes

umbrahighpriestofgiratina · 5 years ago

Text

Greenhorn Prometheus

So, uh. This is that secret project/Project Gene I kept mentioning on Discord and a few other places. And after several months of being cryptic I can finally tell you...

It's a crossover Halloween special. And a very silly one at that. I am probably doing one half of the crossover a supreme injustice but I tried I guess (and also removed some problematic bits you're welcome).

This was all already prewritten and is going to be posted in three parts around the beginning, middle, and end of October. Anyway, here we go:

Greenhorn Prometheus

Chapter 1: Origin

Thunder crackled across the Kanto sky in the dead of night. Was it the whim of Zapdos or some other Pokemon? It was not clear. Rain pattered down and the dark storm clouds rolled and tumbled.

In the massive estate the thunder and lightning were crackling over. Deep within its confines lay a coffin. Slowly, trembling hands opened the coffin to reveal a human corpse, clutching tightly to a box. They touched the corpse's hands, slowly pried them off, flinched when the corpse seemed to move, then grabbed the box and ran.

----------

At a university in Unova, behind a door labeled DEPARTMENT OF BIOLOGY, a man with red hair was lecturing a class, pointing to a chart of an Altaria's brain and nervous system with a scalpel.

"As you can see, the medulla oblongata connects to-"

"Professor Altamura?" said a student, standing up.

The man's eye twitched. "It's Alti-mira. And call me Silver."

"Is it true you're the son of crime boss and sponsor of mad science Giovanni Altamura?"

Silver sighed and sat down.

"Do not mention my father in this classroom."

"But sir, have you ever thought of using your father's forays into the sciences for goo-"

"My father was a lunatic, and whatever contribution he made to science was through unwitting pawns. I would never think of repurposing it in my life. Sit down or I'll deduct from your grade for disrupting the class."

Silver did not seem to notice or care he had stabbed himself in the leg with the scalpel.

The student opened his mouth, went through several motions including one suspiciously similar to the thinking emoji, then sighed, closed his mouth, and sat back down. During the debate Silver did not notice an old man with a box enter the room.

"Anyway!" said Silver. "I believe it is time for the demonstration!"

Another scientist entered the room and handed Silver a Premier ball. Silver opened the ball to reveal a Braixen.

"Full disclaimer," said Silver, "I have never worked with this Pokemon before and probably wouldn't attempt it on one of my own. I don't really care."

The students muttered nervously. The Braixen gave him a look.

"See, this is an instinctive response, controlled by genes."

He swung a hand toward the Braixen. The Braixen stopped him with a paw.

"This is a premeditated response, controlled by behavior."

He attempted to lightly punch the Braixen. The Braixen rolled his eyes and made Silver punch himself in the face.

"Ow... Anyway! These responses are controlled by specific parts of this Braixen's brain! So what if we suppressed those?"

He produced a headset, placing it carefully on the Braixen's head. The Braixen promptly froze up, but did not move.

"Now then..." said Silver.

He started tickling it. It still did not move.

"See? If you suppress certain parts of the brain or genome or certain other biological functions... everything changes!"

He removed the headset, only to be floored by a fiery blast from the Braixen. The Braixen jumped off the table and stormed off. Another scientist approached the floored Silver, who held up a Poke bill.

"Give his Trainer five hundred will you?"

The other scientist nodded and left. Silver stood up and looked around at the class, only now noticing the scalpel in his leg and sighing.

"Class is dismissed."

The class all sighed in relief and started leaving the room. The one exception was the old man, who approached Silver with the box. Silver looked at him curiously. "Hello, what is it?"

"It's Dr. Fuj- er, Ijuf, at your service."

"What service?"

"Well, I'm here to inform you... Well, first off, your great grandfather, Beaufort Altamura, has passed."

"Oh, I'm... Dreadfully sorry, he and I weren't exactly close but this is still-"

"And on that note... You've inherited the Altamura estate."

"...Oh. Oh no no no."

-------------------------

Silver was sitting in his room, staring at his phone. As much angst potential as there'd be, it'd be a lie to say he was alone - a Feraligatr was curled up at his feet, a Magnezone floated about, a bored Weavile flicked at the drawstrings. Silver looked around at all of them and sighed.

"Well, here goes nothing."

He went to one of his contacts and called them with Watchog Chat. A girl with light blue hair tied in pigtails that pointed upward answered, with a Typhlosion peering over her shoulder.

"Silver! Hey! Nice hearing from you!"

"I know, Kris, I know... I've been caught up in work for the university."

"I figured, don't worry. So what's up?"

"...Apparently I inherited the family estate."

Kris' eyes widened. Her Typhlosion growled with concern. "Wait... Your family?"

"Yes."

"...Remind me of the deal with them? I mostly know your father and assumed the rest was bad news."

Silver sighed. "First I should go over the one who just died. My great-grandfather, Beaufort Altamura. Founder of Team Rocket."

"So he's the one who started it all?"

"Yes. It started as a small smuggling ring before becoming something bigger and nastier. Eventually it was passed down to his daughter, Mary Louise Altamura... Otherwise known as Madame Boss."

"Never knew much about her..."

"She stayed quiet compared to my old man. Didn't like having her name on anything on anything that could be traced back to her, hence the codename. She had a husband but something happened and he was killed, but not before she could give birth to my dad. She did have a stint with some woman I don't know the identity of but after my dad took over Team Rocket... She left, and no one knows where she went."

He sighed.

"And after my father took over... You know the rest."

"So this family history's finally catching up to you, huh?" said Kris. Her Typhlosion frowned.

"Apparently."

"You want me to come over and help you deal with it? I'm busy with stuff but I can be at the estate when I get the chance."

Silver smiled.

"Thanks. I'd appreciate that a lot."

----------------

Silver gazed out the window of the airplane in Mistralton as the plane prepared to take off. Many thoughts stewed in his mind. What was the estate like after all these years? Would people remember him? What would they do if they remembered him? His fingers clenched tightly to the seat out of anxiety.

It was enough he didn't notice a tall man in a labcoat board the plane and sit down the way.

---------------

Silver stepped out from the airport into the fog. It was dark, late, and there weren't many others around. At least, not that he could see.

It was then he heard a noise. And breathing.

"Hello?"

"Dr. Altamura?"

Silver whipped around to see a tall blond man with a labcoat and glasses staring very intently at him.

"...Alti-mira."

"Well then!" said the man. "It's wonderful to meet you, I've heard so much about your work."

"And you are...?"

"Colress! Researcher of Pokemon power."

"Uh-huh. What are you doing here?"

"There's been reports of Mega Stones being found in the Kanto region! I need to investigate them straight away!"

He looked around.

"Problem is I don't know where to start... Also I don't have a place to stay."

Silver sighed.

"Here's the deal. Since you're a fellow scientist, you can stick with me until you find a place to stay. But don't make my time any harder."

Colress beamed, specifically in a fashion which did not give Silver much confidence his act of kindness was a good idea.

"Thank you! There's so much to discover here... Having your assistance will be beneficial, surely!"

Silver rolled his eyes, and not in an attempt to see the back of his skull. "Yes, yes..."

His gaze then diverted to the large blue... cowlick? Extending from the rest of Colress' hair. "You know, I had a stint as a tailor... I could probably take care of that swirl for you."

"What swirl?"

There was a long, uncomfortable pause.

"...Never mind. Let's get going."

Silver set off, Colress trailing after.

------------

The two eventually got to a bus stop, waiting patiently in the fog for the bus to roll up. Eventually it did, and Silver and Colress stepped aboard.

There weren't many people on the bus at this hour, so the pair had no trouble finding seats. It was then, however, that Silver noticed a woman with dark hair and magenta clothing eyeing him oddly. He elected to ignore the woman at first, up until he heard a voice in his head.

~You.~

Silver jumped in his seat a bit, naturally earning him a few more looks from the other people on the bus. After a second he attempted to think back.

Who the hell are you?

~Not your concern right now. You know about something I'm looking for.~

And exactly what is that?

~The Altamura estate. Namely how to get in.~

Silver gulped. How'd you get that idea?

~I'm a psychic. I just know.~

Silver paused, took a deep breath. The auric spectrum was a well-documented phenomenon, there is no harm being caused to his brain by this woman poking at his though-

~If I wanted to fry your brain I'd have done it already.~

Silver turned white.

~Now. I want to accompany you to your estate.~

Why?!

~I need to check if the place still has anything nasty left over from the Rocket days. I don't intend to do any harm. At least if you don't get up to anything shifty.~

I intend nothing of the sort!

~Then we should be fine.~

...Fine. But as soon as you get what you want you're leaving with Colress.

~Fair enough. Though since you're helping I'll tell you my name. It's Sabrina.~

...Wait, you're the Sabrina? Saffron City gym leader?

~That's me.~

What have I gotten myself into?

~Hopefully not much. Hopefully.~

----------

The bus came to a stop at the end of a long, winding trail. Silver, Colress, and Sabrina got off and looked around as it sped off, as if in a hurry to get away from the place.

"Colress? Sabrina here is going to be accompanying us for now," said Silver.

"Oh? You're Sabrina? The Pokestars celebrity?" said Colress

~That's me.~ said Sabrina.

"Wonderful! Your unique perspective could help our research!"

"Don't get too cozy," said Silver. "You both are leaving as soon as I get situated and Sabrina checks out the place."

With that, they made their way up the trail, passing through dark trees with wild Pokemon making eerie noises within - for ambience, obviously. Eventually the trio cleared the trees and came across an impressive sight.

A castle reached upward into the dark sky, its spires seeming to touch the clouds. Faint light shone through the windows, but it seemed less inviting and more foreboding.

"This is... The estate," said Silver. "I remember it a little too well."

"It looks suitably ominous!" said Colress.

~I dig the aesthetic.~ said Sabrina.

"...Okay, neither of you get it, let's just go in."

Silver sighed and knocked on the door.

It slowly creaked open. As it opened wider, it revealed a visage that made Silver and Sabrina's eyes widen.

"...Agatha?"

~Agatha?~

Nearby several Mudsdale neighed in fear at the name.

"Hello, you three."

"Agatha," said Silver, wincing as the Mudsdale neighed in horror again, "how are you even ali- er, what are you doing here?"

"After your father was deposed as the head of Team Rocket, it was decided I would help take care of the estate in his stead, and so with that I resigned from the Elite 4 to pursue a nice little retirement. That is until you all showed up."

"Pleasure to meet you Agatha!" said Colress to further Mudsdale neighs. "It's an honor to meet someone so esteemed in this region!"

~Agatha,~ said Sabrina, being very careful not to broadcast her message to the Mudsdale, ~Are things... all right?~

"Splendid. There's no one here to bother me. Aside from old man Beaufort and he's... You know."

"Er, yes," said Silver. "Can we come in now?"

"Certainly, my dear," Agatha said.

Silver did not like the way she said "my dear", or the longing look in her eyes when she said "my dear", or that she had said "my dear" at all, but he headed in anyway, followed by Sabrina, then Colress. Right before the door closed, however, Colress poked his head out.

"Agatha!"

The Mudsdale neighed in fear as Colress snickered and closed the door.

---------------

Inside the estate, it was about as lavish as you'd expect a damn rich person's home to be. Fancy chandeliers, paintings all over the walls, and lit candles, among other things, decorated the entire place.

"Come now," said Agatha.

She led the three through the estate into a massive library.

"Amazing!" said Colress.

~What's in these books anyway?~ said Sabrina.

"History and literature from where my ancestors came from," said Silver. "Scientific treatises. Books on Ground-types."

"I've been taking good care of it while the family's been gone," said Agatha. "Follow me, please, Silver."

She started leading him up a winding staircase. They eventually got to a large, imposing door, which Agatha opened to reveal a room containing a bed and a second library, and large portraits of Beaufort, Madame Boss, and Giovanni.

"This was your great grandfather's room. It's yours now."

"I see..." said Silver.

He started inspecting the books.

"...Where's the private library?"

"Hmm?"

"These books, they're all the same sort you'd find downstairs, just a bit more esoteric. I know my father and grandparents had a bit more than these to hide."

"Those are the only two libraries I know, Dr. Allymeera."

"Alti-mira. And I think I need to go to bed."

"Would you like brandy?"

"Er, no."

"Warm Moomoomilk?"

"No thank you."

"Ovaltine?"

"...They still make that? Ack, I just want to go to bed."

"Very well. Goodnight."

Silver headed off to another corner of the room to unpack his pajamas, only to see Agatha kissing the Madame Boss portrait and telling it goodnight out of the corner of his eye.

He stood stock still until she left the room and then hurried to bed.

------------

Silver tossed and turned in his sleep, muttering to himself.

"No... I'm not like them... I can't... I'm a scientist, I don't believe in fate... no, I can't say it, I can't-"

He started singing. "Destiny! Destiny! No escaping that for me! Destin-"

A telepathic slap. Silver woke up. "Huh? What was that? How-"

Sabrina walked in the room. ~Next time, have less loud nightmares. I'm trying to sleep too.~

"Fine, fine."

~Also could you turn off your easy-listening muzak?~

"What muza-"

Then he heard it. Slow, soft, quiet, but unmistakably some kind of string instrument. Silver didn't really know his strung instruments, granted, but he could recognize one dammit.

"I'm not making that music."

Sabrina blinked, then looked around. ~Hmmm. It seems to be coming from behind this bookcase.~

"Behind it? That can't be right..."

He got up to look. Sure enough, the music came from behind the wall.

"Hmm."

He removed a book from the bookcase. Nothing. "Let me try closer to the noise..."

He started looking over the books on the other side of the bookshelf. "Hand me that candle so I can see, will you?"

Sabrina plucked an old-fashioned candle from the wall and suddenly the bookcase did a 180 rotation, trapping Silver on the other side.

"Ack! Put it back, put it back!"

~Hmm, I think I'll just leave you here,~ said Sabrina.

"This is serious!"

Sabrina pouted. ~Fine...~

She put the candle back. This time the bookshelf did a 360 spin, still trapping Silver on the other side.

"I'm going to have to block it with my body!" said Silver.

~Bad idea but OK.~ Sabrina removed the candle again, Silver trying to wedge his way through only to get stuck.

"Okay maybe just push it?" said Silver.

Sabrina sighed and sent out her Alakazam. ~Fix the bookshelf for the yakuza brat.~

~Most certainly,~ said her Alakazam, locking the bookshelf in a sideways position, Silver stumbling over to Sabrina's side as she gazed in.

~Yep. Hidden passageway.~

"And the music's coming from it..." said Silver. He paused. "We should probably go in."

~I definitely should. This has Rocket all over it.~

Sabrina recalled her Alakazam and the two descended down the passageway.

---------

There were Spinarak cobwebs and Rattata everywhere as they descended. Eventually they reached a door; Silver took the handle in his hand only for it to break. He sighed and pushed the door open; beyond he found strange bottles and tubes and a display of preserved human and Pokemon remains.

"Gross..." said Silver.

He looked down a row of preserved, labeled human heads. Three years dead, two years dead, six months dead, freshly dea-

"Hello!" yelled the freshly dead head, causing Silver and Sabrina to jump back and yell only to realize it was Colress.

"I want to be the very best, like no one ever was-" Colress sung.

"Colress! Enough fooling around!" said Silver. "How'd you get down here?"

Colress removed himself from the display to join the other two. "I came down through the dumbwaiter! I heard the most lovely music, and I headed after it so it could be a source of scientific inspiration! I'm just a hair away from finding it!" he said, pointing to his swirl.

"Wait I thought-" Silver started to say.

~So it wasn't you. Not that you seem to be the musician type.~

"...So someone else must be down here. And the only other door's that way."

"Looks dangerous..." said Colress. "You two go first, I'll do my scientific duties from the rear."

Silver groaned as the group headed onward, to another door. Silver opened it to nothing but darkness. "Are there any lights in here?"

"I see a switch, but it looks dangerous," said Colress.

Silver pulled the switch only to yell as sparks flew.

"Told you!" said Colress.

The switch, thankfully for Silver, did successfully turn the lights on. The group started out in awe at what they saw.

A massive laboratory lay out before them, with test tubes and beakers and strange cylinders and equipment all around. Silver's eyes widened as he recognized flash cloning technology among it all.

"It can't be..."

~The rumors were true after all,~ said Sabrina.

"Rumors?"

~The lab on Cinnabar wasn't the only lab Rocket had. They had this backup the whole time... and probably used it to test prototypes of the Mewtwo project.~

"Exactly," said Silver. "To think it was here this whole time..." He looked around. "It's pretty messy."

"Well, scientific environments need to be sterile but if you want to renovate the place maybe some flowers, throw pillows, Pokedolls..." said Colress.

"Wait," said Silver. The music's stopped, but there's a light behind that door..."

The group crept down and opened the door, only to find a room full of books and papers. Silver looked around to find a violin resting on the table. "Well the music must have been coming from this..."

~What even is this side room though?~ said Sabrina.

"Music room, I guess?" said Colress, inspecting the violin.

Silver inspected the books. "Wait... It can't be... It is! This is the private library!"

He started shuffling through the books and papers, until he came across one book in particular -

How We Did It, by Dr. Fuji and Giovanni Altamura

"...My father and his colleagues weren't ones for subtlety."

-------------

It was even later into the night. Sabrina and Colress were fast asleep, heads on the table, but Silver was engrossed in the book.

"These formulas and methods and hypothesis... They all seem like the ramblings of a madman to an outside observer but if you dissect them carefully they're almost genius..."

He gave a manic grin, a dangerous light in his eyes.

"I see how it all happened... And how it all failed. Yet I don't want to stop here..."

"...I want to do one better."

***

#pokemon #fanfic #silver #colress #sabrina #greenhorn prometheus

12 notes · View notes

ncityislove · 6 years ago

Text

The Jury is Out Ch. 2

➳Pairing: Renjun x Reader x Jeno (ft a few other Dreamies)

➳Genre: fluff/ angst

➳Word Count: 7K

➳ Warnings: under age drinking, mentions of infidelity

Previous Chapter Third Chapter Next Chapter

You were used to working with the guy you despise most in the world on a day to day basis but one day all that changes when you have to work together after school for two weeks. Was it crazy to want to be friends with your enemy? Was it possible to be something...more?

A/N: Sorry about the slow uploads. I’m trying to work on my motivation to write rn :/ Hopefully the next part will be up soon!

***STORY HAS BEEN RE-EDITED

The halls are cramped and chilly as you squeeze in between groups of people obnoxiously standing in the center of the walkway. Today is finally Friday, meaning you could rest at home for the next two days. Heaven knows you needed it given how shitty your week has been. You were incredibly exhausted and you couldn't figure out why, considering you overslept literally every morning. Not to mention, you were still pissed at Renjun for leaving you to work on the booth by yourself. To be frank, you just weren't in the mood today.

You trudge through the open door of your first period and sit in your seat, readjusting your headband. Renjun makes an appearance shortly afterwards, his oversized backpack brushing the doorframe—seriously, what a nerd—and you promptly look down at your phone, not wanting to give him any attention. If he thought you were going to let this one go he was dead wrong.

Class starts and Mrs. Brookes walks in with an arm full of papers. "Good morning, everyone! It's quiz time!!"

You jolt awake at that, the quiz seeming to have completely slipped your mind. You even forgot to study last night, falling asleep before you got the chance to start on the rest of your homework. You rub your tired eyes, trying to remember all the materials you learned in the past week but it was so hard to function at such an early hour.

You groan, laying your head down on the table just as Renjun approaches and places a scantron on the top of your head. You sit up in your chair, the paper sliding off onto the black surface in front of you, to find Renjun studying you with an odd look on his face. Maybe he was still feeling queasy from the lab yesterday?

"Were you...did you start on the booth yesterday?"

You roll your eyes to sky, picking up your pencil to fill out your name. Renjun stands there for a moment until he realizes he won’t be getting an answer and moves on to the next table. You feel a small sense of victory. Could that have been remorse that you'd seen on his face? You shake your head, immediately dismissing the thought. Impossible.

Ha, as if he was capable of such an emotion!

Well, whatever it was, it was obvious he wasn't proud of his actions yesterday. He looked like a dog with his tail tucked between his legs, his head hanging low as he passed out papers to the students. He really needed to get that temper of his in check.

Mrs. Brookes passes out the quizzes shortly after Renjun finishes passing out scantrons and starts a timer. You quickly get to work, thoroughly mulling over the questions and answers. Not even five minutes into testing, Renjun stands up to turn in his quiz. Of course, he would be the first one to finish. He always was. You fight the urge to roll your eyes and finish up the last two questions, turning in your paper next.

Sitting back down in your chair, you put your earbuds in, searching for a song to pass the time when you remember your father's orders for you and Sadie to spend more time together. Sadie had been driving you everywhere since she returned, even when it was within walking distance, she insisted.

You [9:32 AM]: are you picking me up today?

You switch back to your music playlist, settling on the first song you saw when your phone buzzed in your hand.

Sadie [9:33 AM]: yep! we're having a sisters night btw and before you ask no you can't get out of it ;)

Your head falls into your hands as you scream internally. Sadie was driving you bonkers from all this 'sister bonding' she's been forcing you into.

Haven’s there again at lunch, this time though, there was a long line of people waiting to sign up for the blood drive. You pause, wondering where everyone was when you started sign-ups.

Haven's hair bobs back and forth in her loose top-knot as she nods in conversation with some girl having trouble understanding the process of the blood drive.

"They don't put you to sleep when they take the blood?" the girl asks with a panicked expression.

"No, that's not how blood drives work..."Haven replies, her lips in a thin line.

"If I ask them to, do you think they will?"

Haven rolls her eyes so far back you could only see the whites of her eyeballs. "No. Are you gonna sign-up or not?"

The poor girl looks like she was gonna piss her pants right then and there. She shakes her head no and briskly walks away.

"Next!" Haven shouts.

You sit down in the chair next to Haven and she glances at you, giving you a once-over.

"Cute bracelet. Where'd you get it?"

"Thanks, it was a gift from my sister. I'm not sure where she got it," you reply, fumbling with the charms.

Sadie had bought you the bracelet two Christmases ago and you'd haven’t taken it off since. Not for any reason, in particular, you just thought it looked nice with how plain your uniform was.

After the last person scurries off to their friends, you and Haven start digging in to your lunches.

"So..., "Haven begins. "are you and Renjun together?"

It takes a few seconds for her question to register in your brain and then you’re nearly choke on your PB&J sandwich, dramatically coughing for dear life.

"Together? As in dating??"

You couldn't even hide how horrified you were by the question. The audacity of her to ask such a heinous question was unsettling. Didn't everyone know you hated each other? Even the teachers knew about your rivalry.

"Not even if he was the last person on Earth," you defend. "Besides, Renjun hates my guts."

"I see," she nods. "But how do you feel about him?"

You stop mid-chew. "Huh?"

"The way you guys talk to each other, I just assumed there was some sort of history there I didn't know about. I mean, he's cute, yeah sure, anyone with eyes can see that but he's also really smart and he's super sweet when he wants to be."

Sweet my ass—

"Hey!" Renjun calls out as he approaches from the side.

At this rate, he was going to make a daily habit of stopping by your table at lunch.

Haven gives you a suspicious glare before she busies herself by cutting up her fruits with the dull ends of her plastic fork.

"Hey," he repeats once he was closer to the table. "Are we still meeting after school?"

You almost said yes before you remembered you were still mad at him for ditching you yesterday. You give him a stormy look and pull out your phone, making a point that you were ignoring him.

"I know you're giving me the cold shoulder and what not—and I get it. I really do. But could you just meet me on the field so we can get this done? That's all I ask."

And with that, he walks away.

"Hey, Renjun!" Haven yells after him. He glances over his shoulder but keeps walking.

That was weird.

"What exactly happened between you two?" you ask.

Haven chews on her bottom lip before shaking her head. "It's complicated."

Complicated. What did that even mean? Aren't all breakups complicated? Why did you care anyway, it's not like it's any of your business.

Right.

It wasn't any of your business so why did you ask that? It was odd enough that you were curious about Renjun's past relationships but now it was going to seem like you were actually interested in him. And let’s face it, hell would freeze over before that would ever happen.

After the final bell rings, you make your way to the track field. You debated on whether or not you should even show up but you weren't as douche-ey as Renjun.

Your feet pad down the concrete stairs, trotting across the damp grass. You spot the familiar head of dark hair in the center of the field as you near the booth. Renjun had already begun without you, taping the flags on each side of the booth. His uniform jacket was folded neatly on top of his bag on the ground and you drop yours down next to his. Renjun is too immersed in getting the tape to hold the flags to notice your arrival. Despite the cold, there’s a light sheen of sweat that coats his honey bronze skin, his fringe starting to stick to his forehead.

You clear your throat loudly and Renjun peeks over his shoulder.

"Oh, you came," Renjun let out a sigh of relief.

"Yeah, well, I'm not you so..." you trail off.

"Right," his voice is low. "Look, about yesterday...I shouldn't have just left you like that."

He pauses to wipe the sweat at his temples with the back of his hand. "I overreacted and I'm sorry. Things have been...off lately."

You’re silent for a moment, not sure of what to say. It wasn't like Renjun to show any real emotion towards you.

You approach him, adjusting the flag properly so the tape wouldn't peel off from the weight.

"You've been apologizing a lot lately."

The corners of Renjun's lips curve upwards. "I guess I have."

It was silent as he begins to nail a wooden board across the table legs.

You watch him work as you mindlessly painted a plank of wood for the top of the booth. His brow is creased as he carefully handles the hammer and nail.

"How'd you do on the quiz?" he asks, disturbing the stillness in the air.

"It was pretty easy," you muse. "I probably got an A."

"You always get an A, what do you mean 'probably'?" he chuckles.

A smile creeps on your face. "I'm just being modest here—of course I got an A!"

"When are you ever modest?" Renjun retorts, a teasing smile playing on his lips. And you realize for the first time, it's a smile that was meant in a friendly way.

"I'm more modest than you could ever be."

Renjun moves on to the next board, picking up a new nail. "Maybe. That's the only thing you do better than me, though."

You scoff. You knew it was meant to be a joke but you couldn't help but feel irritated by how true it was.

"I will admit that you are better than me at a lot of things. If modesty is all I have on you, I'll take what I can get."

Renjun chuckles. "I was joking! There's tons of stuff you can do better than I ever could."

"Oh yeah? Like what?" you ask.

"If you're fishing for compliments, I'm not falling for that," he shakes his head with a laugh.

"I'm not asking for compliments, I'm serious. You're always one step in front of me, Renjun. No matter how you look at it, you're perfect."

Renjun stops hammering to look at you. "Was that supposed to be a joke? I don't know if you've noticed, but the reason why I have to work so hard to keep my spot at the top is you. You keep me on track because I know if I slack off for even a sliver of a moment, you'll take it away from me. I'm not perfect."

You stare at him for a beat, an odd feeling stirring in your chest.

"No one's better than anyone, alright? We're equals," he finishes, re-focusing on his task again.

His voice is cool and smooth like marble and for the first time you hear a gentle tone in his words. The gleam in his eye showed you a more sincere side of himself you never knew existed and it made your heart pick-up.

"Right, of course," you say, forcing a laugh.

The two of you continue to have small talk as you work. Him, always asking the questions and you, trying to answer them as politely as possible. After a while, the atmosphere begins to feel less forced and you’re able to talk to him freely without feeling the painful drag of awkwardness.

When the sun begins to paint the sky red, you both decide that was enough work for the day. You agree to meet on Monday again after school.

You walk together to the parking lot mostly in silence. When Renjun offers to walk you to your sister's car you decline immediately, not wanting Sadie anywhere near him. You wave to him as you got into the passenger's side of Sadie's Audi.

"See 'ya later!" he shouts before he hops into a black truck across the lot.

"Who's that? He's cute," Sadie says, craning her neck to watch him get into the car.

You buckle your seatbelt. "Not really. That's just my lab partner from anatomy."

"Are you kidding me? If I was your age I'd be all over that. And single of course."

"I don't know, I guess he is. I haven't really thought about him that way before."

Sadie drives out of the parking lot, looking at you as if you had two heads. "You guess? We really need to sort out your taste in men."

You hum, waving her comment off and thankfully she doesn't pester you about it for the rest of the way home.

"Let's make cookies!" Sadie suggests, tossing her keys in the dish on the table.

You scowl. "You know I can't cook."

"I'll give you the easy stuff to do," she says, shuffling into the kitchen.

You press your lips together, following her to your doom. Baking cookies wasn't something you ever wanted to do in your lifetime but here you were in the kitchen with Sadie doing something you didn't want to do, yet again.

"I'll make the batter and then you can mix it with this spoon here, see?" she holds up a large wooden spoon.

You nod wordlessly, slumping over the wooden counter while she washes her hands.

You watch Sadie gather all the ingredients from around the kitchen and set them out around a ginormous bowl from the cupboard you didn't know existed until now.

"Since mom and dad aren't home yet, I can finally tell you about Jodie!" Sadie claps her hands excitedly.

You mime gagging behind her back before slumping back over the counter.

"Oh god, where do I even begin," she pauses in deep thought. "Oh! We met at orientation, as you know. But what I didn't tell you is how he asked me out."

"And how'd he do that?" you try to hide the boredom in your voice.

"He brought a big basket of those muffins I like from the dining hall—well technically he stole them but anyways—he brought them to my dorm and asked me to dinner at this underground restaurant and, ugh, it was so romantic! It had all these twinkly lights and a live band!"

"That does sound nice. Except for the stealing part. I don't find illegal stuff romantic."

"Of course you wouldn't, but anyway, we've been together ever since. We made two years last month," Sadie smiled at her bowl of mush ingredients.

"Wow, I hadn't even realized it's been that long," you reply, toying with the wooden spoon.

"Yeah," she sighs. "Mom and dad met him a couple of days before our anniversary but they don't know everything that happened so when I tell you this, you have to promise me you won't say anything, okay?"

You perk up at the seriousness of her tone. "Yeah, of course."

Sadie looks hesitant before she speaks. "After about a year into our relationship, Jodie...he cheated on me with some girl in his psych class."

"He what??!" you jump up, nearly knocking over the ingredients Sadie had set up so neatly.

Who in their right mind would ever cheat on someone as amazing as Sadie? Everyone loved Sadie. And you meant everyone. If someone didn't like her it was because they were jealous and even then they secretly liked her! It just didn't make sense. No matter which you put it, you can’t think of a single reason why he would think that was a good idea or even be tempted to cheat with another woman. He was more foolish than you ever anticipated.

"And what happened? You're still with him?"

Sadie looks ashamed as she avoids your gaze. "We broke up for about a month after it happened. But yes, we're still together."

You grab her arm, making her look at you. "Why would you get back together with someone who cheated on you with some random girl?"

"You wouldn't understand, __, you're still young. You've never even had a boyfriend before. It's not that simple."

You frown, confused and albeit a little angry. Isn't it common sense to break up after your partner had an affair? Sadie was everyone's dream girl—she was sweet, loving, beautiful, knew how to cook and was too forgiving for her own good. The fact that she decided to stay with some loser who couldn't see that was infuriating. You didn't like Jodie before but now you actually had a valid reason.

"Please don't be mad, __," Sadie pleads as if reading your mind. "Love is...complicated."

Complicated. There's that word again.

Sadie tucked her hair behind her ears, searching for the right words. "Just because he hurt me, doesn't mean I don't love him anymore. I can't just turn off my feelings for him whenever I want. Those feelings don't go away so easily and you'll see that for yourself one day,"

"I'd rather not," you huff, crossing your arms.

Sadie drags your body to the bowl now that she was done measuring the needed materials.

"Not all relationships turn out like mine. Maybe you'll have better luck than me," she gives you a small smile.

You stir the mixture clumsily, as you give her an pointed look. "Yeah right, have you met me?"

"Oh hush," she slaps your arm. "Enough about me. What about this lab partner of yours?"

You grimace. "I promise you nothing's going on there. His friend Jeno, however, is much more interesting."

Sadie holds the bowl steady for you as your stirring grows sloppier. "Oh, all the Jenos I've met are always crazy hot."

"His looks don't disappoint, believe me. He's got the whole school wrapped around his finger. He's really smart too."

"I knew he'd be smart if you were interested in him. Does he play a sport?"

"Soccer."

"That's even hotter," Sadie replies, taking the bowl from you and forming a small ball with the dough. "Can you grab that big pan and put a baking sheet over it for me?"

You follow her instructions and she thanks you, placing a ball on the pan.

"What's crazy is, he's barely even spoken to me prior to this week but he suddenly asked me to go to his party tonight."

"Well, you're going, right?" she pauses to turn on the oven.

"Of course not," you answer in an incredulous tone.

"Why not?!" Sadie exclaims. "You have to go!"

"I don't do parties and I don't do boys, you know that," you resume back to your position over the counter.

"Right, those lame rules you made when you were like ten. Don't you think they're a little ridiculous? You can still have a life and be successful, you know."

You pursed your lips. "I like my rules."

"You like them because they keep you in your comfort zone. You gotta go, honey. You're gonna regret it if you don't. And you don't have to date Jeno. Just try to get to know him—ignore him all night for all I care—just go and have some fun for once!"

"I don't think—"

"Nope! You don't have a choice, you're going!" she says cutting you off.

"Put the cookies in the oven while I get everything ready!" Sadie shouts as she runs off to her old room in haste.

You throw your head back, throwing a silent tantrum before putting the cookies in the oven.

When you meet Sadie in her room, her entire contents of her suitcase were thrown out onto the floor with a giant case of makeup open by the mirror. You immediately walked back out yelling out a quick and stern 'no!'

"Wait! Come on, it'll be fun!" she runs after you, her arms spilling over with dresses you'd rather die than to put on your body.

Sadie manages to coax you out of your room and back into hers but only after you made her promise to not do anything too crazy.

You change out of your uniform and into a pair of jeans and one of Sadie's satin blouses. You already flat-out refused to wear her dress so when you rejected the idea of wearing any type of heels, she settled for her black booties. You’re lucky you wear the same size in everything otherwise you’d end up showing up in that old church dress your mom bought you four years ago before you all stopped going. There was never a need to get nice-looking clothes because you never went anywhere.

You find yourself sitting on the floor in between your sister's legs as she curls your hair. You have major difficulty remaining still for long periods of time and Sadie burned you a few times because of it. When she’s content with your hair she attempts to do your makeup but your reject anything more than mascara and lipgloss, knowing what kind of harmful chemicals it was all made of.

You allow her to do your eyebrows solely because of the sad look in her eye when you said you didn't want to. It hurt like hell and you think you might regretted it a little but the outcome wasn't too shabby, although you'd never admit that to Sadie.

Sadie brings you a plate full of cookies as you did your mascara, giving you pointers as she munches down on a sugar cookie.

Once the torture was over, you feel like you were an entirely different person. Not in a catfish, full face of makeup kind of way but in a this girl never wears anything outside of her school uniform and pajamas kind of way. The person in the mirror looks so foreign to you and you can’t decide if it was a good or bad change but you didn't have too much time to dwell on it before Sadie was shoving you out the door.

After giving her the address from Jeno's Snapchat story, Sadie sends you a warm smile. Her nose crinkles a bit and she keeps staring at you with this motherly look in her eye.

"You look pretty. You always look pretty but you look especially pretty right now."

You're cheeks feel a tad warm as you give her an uncomfortable smile, thanking her.

Once you arrive at the address, Sadie grabs your hand and squeezes it. "Text me when you're ready for me to pick you up. Have fun okay? But be careful."

"Okay," you reply before exiting the car.

You wave to Sadie as she drives away, wishing you could call her back and beg her to take you home but it was too late for that. You came all the way here and now you had to man up and do this. But the overwhelming amount of second thoughts leave you frightened. You can’t help but wonder if Jeno's invitation to you was a joke or some sort of dare he was forced into. Even Renjun knew you didn't belong here.

You take a deep breath and walk towards the front door, letting yourself in. The music hits you like a wave, stunning you for a moment. You hadn't heard it outside the house so the overwhelming sound of the bass resonating through your bones made your heart pick up even faster than before.

The living room was packed with familiar-looking people, most of them leaned against the large walls of the room, a cup full of an unidentifiable liquid in their hands, others dancing wildly in the center of the room.

You decide to search for Jeno, not knowing what else to do. You squeeze through several clusters of people but the dimness of the room made it nearly impossible to see anyone clearly that wasn't less than five feet away, so you give up for the time being, taking an empty spot on the wall near the couch.

You unlock the screen of your phone, just about to text Sadie to come and get you when Haven strides up to you with a golden-haired boy you recognized as Jisung—one of Renjun's friends.

"What are you doing here?" she yells over the music.

You frown at her question. "You know why I'm here; you were there when Jeno invited me."

"You know Jeno?" Jisung asked, his eyes scanning you in curiosity. "I haven't seen you around before—are you new?"

Your fingernails dig into the skin of your palm. If you had a nickel for every time a student asked you that. You would think at least some people would have known you from the vast amounts of extra-curricular activities and sports you played but of course, you were just as invisible to them as you were to everyone else.

"I've been going to this school longer than you have, freshie," you fight the urge to roll your eyes at the kid.

"What's with the way you're dressed? Don't you own anything other than a lame shirt and some jeans?" Haven sneers, giving you a look of pure disgust.

You look down at your outfit, suddenly self-conscious. Was it too conservative for a party like this? Haven's mini skirt and flashy crop top made your outfit look dull in comparison. Maybe you should’ve worn one of Sadie’s dresses after all.

And here you thought bumping into Haven was going to save you from the embarrassment of hanging around the party like some loner without friends. before now, you never really cared to make friends throughout school, preferring to be alone. You had your parents and although they were annoying at times, they were more than enough company for you. You try not to allow her words to affect you but they do. Your throat tightens with sudden urge to cry but you fight it.

"Just because I'm not dressed like a whore doesn't mean it's not cute," you gruff, brushing past her.

You push through the crowd of people towards the front door only to bump into a hard chest that belonged to none other than Lee Jeno.

"Oof! I'm sorry—oh! __, you came," Jeno smiles pleasantly. "Come with me," he grabs your elbow, not waiting for a response as he leads you back to the center of the room to the twin couches.

He signals his friends to make a space for you, ushering you to sit down next to him. You’re surprised to see Renjun sitting on the other side of you, immersed in what seemed like an intense level of Tetris.

"Hey, Renjun," you greet him.

Renjun glances up from his phone, his eyes going wide, obviously surprised that you showed up.

"Umm...Renjun?" you sit back, feeling uncomfortable after a while of him not saying anything.

"Hello? Earth to Renjun?" you snap your fingers in front of his face, finally sparking something in him as he blinks once then twice.

"S-sorry, hi," he says awkwardly then resumes playing his game.

You scowl, expecting a better response. Why was he acting so strange? Just a few hours ago, he insisted on walking you to Sadie's car but now he won't say more than two words to you? Did he not want his friends to know you were getting along?

You’re silent as Jeno jokes along with his friends, a crowd gathering around the popular boy. His eyes squint into laughter whenever one of his friends says something stupid. Thankfully, he was turned in the opposite direction so you could admire the side-view of his chiseled face. You’re glad to have found Jeno when you did, or else you wouldn't have been sitting next to him now, feeling like you a part of something for once.

"Why do you look like that?" Renjun speaks and your cheeks turn rosy, hoping he didn't notice you staring at his best friend.

You attempt to look nonchalant as you answer. "Look like what?"

"I don't know. You look...weird," he says, his eyes staring straight into yours, making you feel cold.

You drew back from him, your heart feeling heavy at his statement. Did you really look so bad that two people had to tell you that to your face?

Apparently, Jeno had heard the conversation as he wraps his arm around your shoulder. "I think you look pretty," he pokes a finger in your cheek and you almost die on the spot.

You shake your head, embarrassed, and Jeno only chuckles, turning back to his friends but leaving his arm around you.

You don't say anything after that, listening to the notes of a song you’ve never heard before in favor of the conversation being held next to you. They were talking about sports, something--unless it was volleyball--that you didn't have much interest in. After a few songs, you get bored, looking to Renjun, who was still on the same level of Tetris. Feeling your gaze on him, you lock eyes for a brief moment then he looks away again.

Concerned, you nudge his elbow, "Are you okay?"

Renjun doesn't look back up at you. "I'm fine."

Obviously, he wasn't but you drop it, not wanting him to snap at you again like the other day.

Jeno tightens his arm around your neck, grabbing your attention. "You wanna dance?"

"Oh, god no," you answer quickly. "I don't dance."

Jeno tilts his head at you. "Hmm..."

You blink, waiting for him to continue.

He stands up abruptly, your eyes following him. "Come with me," he holds a hand out for you to take.

You remember your sister's warning and decide that doesn't sound like a safe thing to do. "I want to stay here."

Jeno pouts, sensing the reason behind your hesitancy. He grabs your wrist, pulling you up with strength you didn't know he had.

"I promise, I won't try anything weird," he smiles that Jeno smile at you and how could you resist?

You let him drag you away from the party, your eyes alert for anything if he tried something funny. You never fought anyone before but you decide that if it came down to it, you were prepared to, even if it was your precious Jeno.

You pass through the kitchen and dining area, where there’s a glass sliding door leading to a patio. He opens it, stepping through first and letting go of you as he held the door open for you. It was a wooden patio with a large grill and fancy table with a yard that has more than enough space for the entire party attendees to run around in. The quietness surrounds your ears as you venture out further onto the patio, noticing a pool at the end of the yard. It was the kind of backyard that everyone dreamed of as a kid.

Jeno motions with his head to follow him and you trail behind him to the lounge chairs by the pool.

"Is this more comfortable for you?" he asks crossing his legs as he lays back in his chair.

You smile, abashedly. "Yes."

Your eyes follow a group of leaves swirling around each other in the pool as you ask Jeno a question that had been on your mind since Wednesday.

"Why did you invite me to your party?" your heart pounds in your ears, remorse fueling your body at the question immediately. You wouldn't know what you'd do if he told you it was a joke. Or worse, if he suddenly confessed to you.

Jeno purses his lips, drinking from his cup, probably full of luke-warm beer. "Because I think you're hilarious. Plus you're super pretty. I always wanted to get closer to you so I thought inviting you to my party would be a good place to start."

You let out a breath, neither relieved or disappointed he didn't ask you out. But he did admit he was interested in you in a way, didn't he? You decide to ask Sadie when you get home.

"So, how's that booth coming along?"

You snort, remembering the project Renjun sucked you into doing with him. "It's nearly half-way done but it would be closer to being finished if I didn't have to start on my own."

"Yeah I heard about that," he giggles. "Go easy on him, okay? He's under a lot of stress right now."

Your eyes almost dart of their sockets. "That boy gets everything he wants. There's no way in hell he could have anything more than the occasional pimple to stress over."

Jeno snickers again. "You always crack me up," with a shake of his head he continues. "Renjun's father is really hard on him when it comes to school and he's also really disappointed in him for not being on the soccer team. The best just isn't enough for the guy, I guess."

You sigh, trying to wrap your head around the concept of Renjun having real issues. Of course, every person had their own problems it's just that you never actually thought of him as a person. He was always just an obstacle blocking you from the future you've always wanted.

"I didn't know that," you say after a while.

"No one does. He doesn't like telling people," he stops to take a gulp of beer. "Does that mean you'll be nicer to Renjun?"

"Ha!" you scoff, taking his cup and having a sip. You weren't really sure what made you do that but it was already too late, the warm beverage already making its way down your throat. It wasn't as bad as you thought it would be but it still wasn't a flavor that you particularly liked. You shrug, taking a bigger gulp of it.

"Nine times out of ten he's the one who starts it. He brings it on himself," you laugh.

Jeno's laughter chimes with yours and you enjoy each other's company for a little while longer, just staring at the moon hanging in the raven sky.

"I don't get how you can even stand being friends with him. You pick on each other all day."

Jeno sighs, kicking his feet in the air. "That's what friends do, I guess. Maybe that's just guys, though. I mean, it all comes from a good place but when it really comes down to it, we're always there for each other."

"That's nice," you say, suddenly feeling guilty for what you said about Jeno. "I wouldn't know. I don't really have friends."

Jeno raises his eyebrows at you. "Really? I thought you had a ton of friends in all those clubs your in."

"Nah, I never really connected with those people."

"Well, I'll be your friend," Jeno cheeses at you and you gush, an unmistakable blush warming your cheeks.

You nod, as you struggle to drink the last of the contents of the beer with an unwavering smile.

A stiff breeze blows by, the leaves rustling in the trees above your heads. You tuck your face into your jacket to brace yourself from the cold.

"I already broke two rules in the span of one hour," you breath, not caring your words formed aloud.

Jeno glances at you curiously, "Hmm?"

You smile to yourself. "Nothing. It’s just some stupid rules I made up when I was like ten."

"Is dancing included in those rules?"

"No, actually."

Jeno stands up with a grunt. "Would you reconsider my offer from earlier?" he asks, his hand held out to you like before.

You weren't sure if it was the now empty cup of beer or maybe you felt a change in you at that moment that you never felt before but you found yourself taking his hand and being led away to the dance floor.

The music was different than what you were used to, the beat a little too fast-paced for you but you followed what everyone else was doing around you, throwing your hands above your head and jumping until you were out of breath. Jeno guides your body closer to him until you were pressed against one another, his arm secured tightly around your waist. You throw your head back in laughter, never having thought the night would've turned out like this. Jeno’s fiery lauch chimes in with yours, his eyes squinting into slits as he twirls you around the living room. You’ve never felt so free. Your mind was always weighted by thoughts of homework and exams. Your life revolved around school and you never seen a problem with it. So many years spent cooped at home when you could’ve been experiencing this. A few more cups and you don't even have a second thought about dancing with Jeno, the two of you goofing around the living room and bouncing around wildly. You were too drunk to notice the entire room hooting and cheering you on and you were too drunk to notice Renjun's eyes glued to the two of you the entire night.

You toss your bag on the floor of the car, then plop down in the seat, Sadie already revving up the engine next to you.

She sends you an odd look once you’ve settled in. "No headband and ponytail today?"

Your hands smooth over the top of your hair instinctively. "No. I think I like my hair better down."

Sadie reaches over, pinching your cheek. "I think you look good either way."

You rub the spot Sadie grabbed, grumbling as you always did.

"One party and my little sissy's all grown up!" Sadie cries, her lips in a pout.

You face-palm yourself. "Nothing's changed. I just styled my hair little differently today, Sadie."

The car comes to a stop at a red light. "Are you sure this has nothing to do with Jeno confessing to you at the party?"

Your face turns beet red as you sputter to defend yourself. "It wasn't a confession! And I didn't have time to find my headband because I slept through my alarm. Thanks for waking me up on time, by the way, Miss I-Wake-Up-At-Four A.M-everyday!"

Sadie giggles an apology, patting your leg.

You arrive to your first period, sitting in your unassigned-assigned seat and throwing your belongings down in the seat next to you, waiting as the rest of the students poured in. The bell sounds and Mrs. Brookes comes in, stressing about the class average of the quiz you took Friday.

Your graded papers were passed back and you were delighted to see an A+ scribbled in red at the top. You look up to find Renjun and show him your score. You aced the quiz just as said you would back at the field the other day. When your eyes land on his seat, however, you find it empty. Your eyes scan the classroom but still no Renjun. Did he not come in at all? It was strange for him to be tardy–it was normally you who was always late. Was he okay? He did look a bit off the last time you saw him...

You find yourself constantly checking the door throughout the class period, expecting him to barge in with some lame excuse or maybe he had a real one for being late for all you knew but he never did.

Second and third period go by and still no sign of Renjun. You were starting to worry about the booth. You didn't want to work on it by yourself but if he wasn't going to show, shouldn't he at least message you?

You suddenly remember Jeno's words to go easy on Renjun. It was things like this that made it impossible to do just that. This was important to you and you could've sworn it was important to him too! Next time you see him, you’ll kill him! Not even Jeno could stand in the way of what you were going to do to him.

When you make it to the field later that afternoon, there’s a lot more kids than last week but, of course, still no Renjun. You puff your cheeks with air, zipping up your coat and start to paint the last part of the booth.

Not even a moment later, a kid walks over to you with a scarf covering half of his face and a coat so big he could barely move his arms.

"Hey, you're __, right?"

You put down your paintbrush. "Yeah? Who are you?"

"I'm Chenle. Renjun asked me to help you out with the booth for him."

"Oh," you blink. You were relieved you didn't have to do this on your own but you were kind of uncomfortable working with a stranger at the same time.

"Why wasn't he at school today, anyway?"

You could tell he was smiling by the rise in his cheeks. "He told me to tell you that he was sick today but I don't see a reason to lie to a stranger. He actually came late after third period."

You let a curse slip through your lips but hold in your rage, picking up the paintbrush again. There was no way he could be serious. He only missed three classes, which happened to be the only ones he shared with you.

"So, why wasn't he at lunch?"

He shrugs. "I don't know either. I just assumed he was with Jeno,"

You let out a long sigh.

Jeno wasn't at lunch either? You hadn't even noticed; you were so busy looking for Renjun. Your eyebrows furrow, giving Chenle something easy to do while you finish painting. You’re angry more than anything. You blew up his phone all day, asking where he was and if he was okay and yet, not a single response but he was at school the whole time. Why would he do that? Was he avoiding you for some reason? You didn't exactly know why but it pained you to think that. Was it stupid to think you were actually becoming friends?

Of course, you weren't friends. Renjun was just trying to make working together tolerable. How could you think that when he was being so cold to you at the party? You were still competing with each other at the end of the day. What good could possibly come out of befriending your enemy? He didn't text you back because he didn't have to. He sent someone to help you out in his place and that was all he owed you.

You knew you had no reason to be upset. Renjun didn't trick you into anything. He never said he wanted to be friends. It was your fault for mistaking his kindness for something bigger than that. But still, your eyes sting with unshed tears, your back turned away from Chenle. You weren't going to cry in front of Renjun's friend. You'd embarrassed yourself enough already.

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sonicrevival · 5 years ago

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Ultimatum- Chapter 3 of 5: Headspace

Sorry I missed the update yesterday, was busy with something else.

Read on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18500557/chapters/44004130

Sonic: Revival- Ultimatum Chapter 3 of 5: Headspace With Eggman gone and Mecha Sally paralysed, Sonic’s small team were left alone on the ice with Silver and Emerl, waiting for Nicole’s return. None of them said anything, the five content to let the faint howl of the wind go undisturbed as they took in their victory. Mecha Sally was safely in their care, and Nicole was already undoing Eggman’s work, while the mad doctor himself had lost his latest machine and been forced to retreat. He hadn’t made it far, thanks to Emerl, and it would be a while before he recovered from the setback they had dealt him. As far as Sonic really cared, this could be filed under ‘Mission Accomplished.’ “So, Tails. I think you and Nicole have got a bit of explaining to do,” The blue hedgehog finally spoke up, glancing at Emerl. Tails nodded, looking over at the robot for a second, and cleared his throat. “Well, Nicole isn’t here right now, so I’ll do it,” He said. “Uhm, what did Nicole say your name was?” “Emerl.” “Right, well, Emerl here is a Gizoid. They’re a sort of extremely powerful warrior robot. Paradoxically highly advanced and very old, ancient, even,” Tails began. “Hey, I’m not old!” She protested. “Your body is approximately three thousand years old,” The fox replied. “You’ve been asleep for most of it.” “If her body is that old, why is Nicole compatible with it?” Amy asked. “Well, that’s partially due to the modifications we made while we were working on the body when we found it, and partially because we believe that the technology that was used to make Nicole was reverse-engineered from the same technology that made Emerl, that of the Fourth Great Civilisation. She’s something of a bridge between us and them.” “What were they like?” “We don’t know. We only know they existed at all from a few scraps and fragments, and the occasional account from another contemporary civilisation. We only know their language because archaeologists found a stone that happened to serve as a translation between Nocturnian and Ancient Echidna, which we know significantly more of.” “Huh, interesting,” Sonic said. “So, what about more details regarding our new friend here?” “We found her while you were in space, and she became something of a group project. Everyone played their part… until Fiona joined the team,” Tails continued. “Ugh, her.” Amy groaned. Tails gave her a look for a moment, then resumed speaking. “Well, Fiona actually knew what it was that we had found, and explained that the Gizoid was actually incredibly dangerous. Reportedly, a single Gizoid had gone berserk and practically wiped out the Nocturnus themselves, at least managing to cripple them enough that their empire collapsed.” “Wait, one of me did all that? By itself?” Emerl asked. “I didn’t think we were that strong...” “I’m still somewhat dubious as to whether I trust the story,” Tails admitted. “Still, we tried to find a way to ensure activation would be safe, but there were no guarantees. Ultimately, we decided that the risk was too great to activate the Gizoid, and gave the access codes to the lab to two people: Sally and Nicole. It was only be to used in the most dire situation, one where adding a berserk city-destroying robot to the mix wouldn’t make it worse than it already was. Nicole decided that this was the right time, apparently, and I think she made the right choice.” “I’ll say,” Sonic nodded, looking over at the wreckage of the Egg Beater. “You’re pretty strong, Emerl, if you were able to do that.” “Well, I’m no more powerful than anyone else here,” She shrugged. “I’m just not tired, and having a metal body lets me go all-out for longer and hit harder. My damage output is exactly the same as that of the ability I copied. If you were as fresh as me, you’d have had no problems with that.” “Well, I’m still glad you showed up,” Sonic grinned. “Thanks for the help.” “Don’t thank me yet, we’re only part of the way done. Now it’s all up to Nicole…” *** Sally’s processor being a mess was something the lynx should’ve expected. She just wasn’t expecting it to be this bad. Everything, including Mecha Sally’s functions, her passive systems, and, hopefully, the trapped consciousness of the real Sally, had been compressed into half the space it needed, which went a long way toward explaining why she was so slow. Not that Nicole was moving quickly, of course. With the density of the code and Eggman’s own shoddy work, she felt as though she were forcing her way through a dense pit of sludge, forcing her way deeper and deeper into the depths of the computer. Moving through some systems, she had discovered, felt like flying. She could float wherever she needed to go, almost unhindered. Others were more like swimming. There was some resistance, and she had to push herself, but still easily manageable. She assumed it was manageable anyway, she’d never personally done any swimming, as far as she knew, so she didn’t really understand her own comparison. Certainly, Sonic wouldn’t agree with her. This was more like crawling. As if the code around her was solid and unyielding and she had to pull herself along, battering her way through the layers of programming. Fortunately, the Doctor’s overconfidence was on her side. Barring the Power Ring Matrix, there were no defences within Mecha Sally. She didn’t want to think about fighting a firewall or an antivirus with her movements so sluggish. Finally, she felt herself speed up a little, as the broken tides of coding at long last formed something she could interact with. The ground gave way beneath her, and she found herself falling toward what looked like a wall of some sort, Eggman’s grinning logo emblazoned upon it, extending well past her range of sight, into the darkness. She flew up to the wall, inspecting it closely… There was a seam of some sort, roughly in what she assumed to be the middle of it. Not a wall, then, but a gate. That made things significantly easier. A wall would have to be torn down or punched through. A gate? That could simply be opened. Nicole pressed her palm against the steel-grey structure, green glow enveloping her, trails of emerald light spreading out from her fingers, forming an intricate lattice as they spread across the gate, separating out into more and more strands, moving in straight lines, turning only in right angles. A cluster of them encircled the Eggman logo, stabbing into it, as the eyes of the logo turned green, before the whole thing vanished, replaced with a simple glowing orb. An emerald glow shone through the seam, brightening as, with a low rumble and a heavy groan of metal, the gate slowly slid apart, steam pouring out of it, before she flew through it, landing on the solid ground she found on the other side. Something flashed in the corner of her eye, and she jumped back and upwards, dodging the incoming attack. She looked down at the program, which resembled the original form of Mecha Sally, before Eggman’s modifications, brandishing its glowing crimson claws as it stared at her with red optics. “I thought I’d find you in here,” Nicole said, landing again. In a flash, a rectangular shield of light formed on her left arm, a short sword with a triangular blade in her free hand. “Where is Sally?” Mecha Sally gave no response, charging forward again, swinging her talons at the lynx. It slammed into her shield, pushing her back for a moment, before she shoved back, overpowering the program. She primed to take a swing at her, but paused. What if this was Sally? What if the new version of the Roboticizer also converted the victim’s mind fully, rather than leaving them awake and imprisoned. If she deleted this program, would she be deleting Sally? Sensing her hesitation, the mechanical squirrel shifted, grasping the sides of the shield and pulling it down, another pair of arms appearing on her shoulders and lashing at Nicole’s face, clawing into her avatar. She yelped, as all four of the robot’s arms pulled her shield free, then slammed the edge of it into her chest. She fell back, bouncing over the ground, as Mecha Sally lunged at her, bringing her heel down on her stomach. “Beginning virus infection.” The program finally spoke, stabbing her arm into Nicole’s chest. She screamed, watching a web of crimson code spreading its way across her avatar, wrapping around her limbs and constricting her body, pinning her to the floor. She strained, struggling against the weight of the robot, and the pull of the coding trying to contain her. “You have lost. You will become a part of the Eggma-” The robot never finished her sentence, as a glowing blue blade erupted from her chest. She froze, her voice sticking for a moment, before she exploded into a cloud of data shards. The red bindings evaporated from Nicole, and she lifted her head up to meet the eyes of her rescuer. “You looked like you could use a hand.” Sally smiled down at her, holding out her left, the right clutching a sword. Nicole grabbed it immediately, standing up and hugging the squirrel. She was here, free of the programming’s influence. She looked like hell, bruised, battered and bleeding, hair messy, jacket ripped, and boots barely holding together, but she was here. “I’m so glad you’re okay!” Nicole cried out, tears filling her eyes as she felt Sally return the embrace. “I’m so sorry, I should’ve done something sooner, I should’ve saved you faster!” “Nicole, it’s okay…” She said, holding her closer. “You’ve been through a lot, you can’t be blamed for getting caught up in that. You still made it here in the end.” “Have you been fighting it this entire time?” Nicole asked, separating from the hug, looking the squirrel’s battered form up and down. “Mostly, yes. It’s been… tiring,” Sally sighed, picking up her sword again. “That program wasn’t alone, there’s a lot of them. I had hoped that by deleting them all, I’d be able to break free of Eggman’s influence. Unfortunately it seems as though any that I destroy get replaced. I’ve found where they’re coming from, but I can’t destroy it by myself. I’m not really used to existing digitally, and his grip is tight enough that I can’t be as powerful in here as you are in your own mind.” “Well, now that there’s two of us… I think we can handle it,” Nicole smiled, reforming her weapons. Sally grinned back, and began to walk forward, leading Nicole behind her. “Alright then, it’s this way,” She announced, as they picked up their pace, crossing the empty plain toward their destination. More of the Mecha Sally programs appeared, flickering into their path with a cloud of pixels, charging toward the pair of them. Sally charged forward first, slicing each of the drones apart. Nicole followed her lead. Now that she knew that none of these things were really her friend, she needn’t hold back, she could just delete them with ease. “Sally, how aware of what’s going on outside are you?” She asked, a green pulse launching from her fingers and exploding in the face of the nearest droid. “I know all of it. I’m still aware, I still have access to my memories, even if I’m not the one currently experiencing them. I know what happened to Antoine… and that Naugus took over… and I know you activated the Gizoid,” Sally replied, kicking a drone down and stabbing it through the torso. “Bunnie also left, and Rotor resigned from the council,” Nicole admitted, slamming one into the wall with her shield, cutting it in two. “Rotor refused to be a part of them after Naugus convinced the rest to exile me, and I think Bunnie’s searching for a way to help Antoine. That’s why it was just Sonic, Tails, and Amy chasing you.” “Well, looks like we’re going to have to do some cleanup when we get out of here,” Sally sliced another in half. Eventually, they cleared out the drones, cutting their way through to the source, a large domed structure, factory machines audible from inside. A door at the front opened, and more of the droids began to flood out, reaching out with claws at the two Freedom Fighters. “That’s a lot of them,” Nicole braced herself. “I know, that’s why I couldn’t get in before,” Sally replied. “But we can do this now, together.” “Right,” Nicole nodded. “Let’s go, then.” The lynx moved first, racing forward with her shield raised, barrelling into the column and bashing the Robian figures out of the way, sword lashing out to cut down those beside her. Sally followed, covering her other flank and rear. They pressed further on, cleaving apart the avatars of Eggman’s virus, never giving them a chance to push back, as Nicole’s avatar began to glow brighter and brighter. “Nicole? What’s with the glow?” Sally asked, cutting another apart. “I’m cooking up something bigger. On my signal, jump, and try to land on my shield.” “Right!” She nodded, averting her eyes and slamming the pommel of her sword into the head of the nearest drone, kicking it back and stabbing her blade through it and into the drone behind it. The drones exploded, allowing her to move the weapon again, sweeping it in a wide arc, tearing more and more of their code apart. “Sally, now!” Nicole’s voice shouted behind her. She crouched and launched herself upwards, flipping over backwards and landing directly on top of Nicole’s shield. The lynx was crouched, with the square of light held above her head, and she sprang upright, propelling herself and Sally into the air. She released her shield, allowing the momentum to carry it, and her friend, higher and higher. “Aim for the door!” Sally crouched again, pushing off from the shield and lunging for the door of the factory, arcing over the heads of the hostile programs. Nicole herself dropped down, slamming her now-free hand into the ground, roughly in the centre of the throng of enemy programs. A shockwave of jade light exploded from her palm, rippling through the army and deleting all of them, just in time for Sally to land just where the outermost ones had been standing. “We’re all clear!” Sally beamed, as the duo regrouped. “Well done, Nicole.” “Thanks, now let’s get rid of this thing and go home.” “Of course.” Heading into the factory itself, they found only a few active drones, most of the others inside being still under construction. A few gathered at the outermost end of the assembly lines, but otherwise, resistance was minimal. “This place is rather simple for one of Eggman’s factories…” Sally mused as they pressed on. It was true, the interior of the dome seemed to be little more than a circle of assembly lines making drones, spanning outwards from a central control area, far easier to navigate than the warren of corridors and dead-ends that the dictator normally filled his buildings with. “Probably because it’s not really a factory. It’s just the part of your programming that is producing the infected control code. This is just what our minds are perceiving it as, a most logical form for it. Since the systems aren’t exactly the most complex, it takes a more simplistic shape,” Nicole explained, as they walked up to the central column of the whole structure. “We’ve already dealt with the worst of the defences, now we just have to deal with the source, which we'll more than likely find in here.” “Ah, alright,” Sally tightened her grip on her weapon, taking a deep breath. “Ready?” “Yeah. You?” “Yeah.” Nicole sliced the door open, and stepped into the void on the other side. For a moment, the entire area was empty, before Sally followed her in and the room took shape. It looked like the old control room in Robotropolis- A bank of computer screens on each wall, and a throne in the centre of the room, rising out of a pit, the gap spanned by a quartet of walkways. The dim lights were red rather than green, however, and the Roboticizer was absent. “Self-destruct timer overdue. Detonator not responding. Weapon systems offline. Servos offline. Thrusters offline. Unit is disabled. Attempting system reboot.” A voice, very much like Sally’s, but devoid of emotion and with a faint grate in it, spoke up from the throne. “There, that’s the source…” Nicole whispered. Not quietly enough, it seemed, as the throne turned toward them, exposing a figure identical to Mecha Sally’s modified form, save for the Eggman logo emblazoned on her chestplate, and her hateful crimson optics. Wires and cables extended from the throne itself into her body, and as she opened her mouth to speak, her entire muzzle split open, exposing a row of fangs. “Infection located. Purging systems before attempting reboot.” She separated from the throne, the wires retracting into it as she stalked forward, moving more like a predatory animal than a Mobian or a robot. Her ‘hair’ pulled back slightly, but rather than a weapon, it exposed a baleful optic, glaring down at them. Red blades extended out of her arms, as another pair extended from her shoulders, and she lunged at the two friends. Nicole stepped forward, bringing her shield up and bracing for the impact, but it never came. The robot leapt over her head, aiming her weapons at Sally herself. The squirrel jumped aside, letting her counterpart hit the ground as Nicole slashed at her back, two of her arms blocking the strike. Mecha Sally stood upright, rounding on them both. She stepped between them, right arms lashing at Nicole, the left at Sally. Neither side found its mark, locking with the organic’s sword and crashing against the AI’s shield, pressing against each other for a moment. Mecha Sally withdrew her blades, causing her two attackers to overbalance, before spinning her torso section, holding out her arms as her blades became a wheel of scarlet light, shrieking through the air between them. Both reeled back, avoiding any damage, but held at bay by the continuous spin. The robot glanced between them, then took a step toward Nicole, pushing her back. The lynx growled, struggling to hold her shield up against the constant barrage of blades. Sally followed, trying to strike under the wheel, but something else struck her in the stomach, cutting into her and throwing her back. Mecha Sally stopped, and thrust all four of her blades into Nicole’s shield, penetrating it and tearing it apart. At the same time, six barbed metal tendrils, tipped with spikes, extended from her upper back. One of them had hit the Princess, who carefully climbed back to her feet during the brief pause. Nicole let the remains of her shield fall, taking her sword in both hands and doubling its size and weight. She bodily swung the weapon at her opponent, knocking her off-balance for a moment as its blades struggled to block the heavier weapon. She pressed her attack, holding the greatsword over her head and swinging it down, forcing Mecha Sally to use all four of her own to block it. Yet, as Nicole began to turn the tide, Sally wasn’t faring so well. The tendrils snaked out toward her, curling past her attempts to block them, forcing her to dodge. As the robot shifted to try and evade Nicole’s strikes, so she backed her own counterpart toward the walkway. The barbs nicked at her already-injured form, cutting and grazing her skin, never quite hitting home, but hurting all the same. Finally, she made that crucial mistake. As the tendrils arced toward her, pincering from both sides and thrusting forward, Sally stepped back out of their reach, and onto the narrow, railed platform. Her blade severed one of them, getting just the right angle to slice it apart, but the robot wasn’t deterred. She stepped back, giving herself room once more, and lashed out at Sally. There was no room for her to dodge anymore, and her metallic counterpart was too close for her to just back away. The first wrapped around Sally’s sword, wrenching it from her grip as it grasped her arm too, three more grappling with her remaining limbs, as Nicole looked up and realised, too late, why the program hadn’t been focused on her. “Sally!” She cried out, trying to juke around Mecha Sally, only to meet her blades again, blocking her path. The final tendril plunged into Sally’s chest, the other four driving into her back as a pulse of crimson rippled down each of them, and the princess screamed. When the red flash faded, the tendrils retracted, and a second Mecha Sally stood on the bridge, looking identical to her actual form in the outside world. “You should not have brought her here. That was the last of her mind. Now it is a part of me.” The first Mecha Sally stood over Nicole, as the lynx stared at her friend in horror. “You have failed. This unit will not be taken from its Master. Surrender and be assimilated.” “Never!” Nicole growled, thrusting her sword forward once more. “So be it.” Sally stood on the bridge, unable to move. She looked out at the two other programs through a red haze, but focusing on the whirl of blades proved impossible. Her mind was occupied, but with what? She’d been hurt, that thing had stabbed her, but it wasn’t that… she didn’t feel a pain in her chest or her back, but in her head. But why did she have a headache? Robots didn’t get headaches. And her sister-unit hadn’t stabbed her there… She focused her attention on the ache in her processor and finally realised what was happening to her, as she felt the same corrupting code that filled the other Mecha Sally was now writing itself into her. Burying her under another layer of obedience to her hated enemy, one that even Nicole wouldn’t be able to breach. But that wasn’t her. These weren’t her thoughts. None of this was part of her, and she refused to let it have its way. She refused to let Eggman’s virus claim her. She wasn’t a robot, and she wasn’t going to accept being one. The red haze faded from her vision, and she moved, arms sliding open as blue energy blades slid into place along her forearms. She jumped from the bridge, and launched herself directly at her monstrous counterpart, driving her swords into its back. Mecha Sally let out a modulated scream, arching back as Sally’s weapons tore through its armour, destroyed the mounting points for its tendrils, and poked out through its chestplate. It staggered sinking to its knees as Sally looked over the top of its head at Nicole. “Are you okay?” She asked, as the AI’s face broke out in a giddy smile. “I should be the one asking you that!” She called back. The robot wasn’t done, however. Her head snapped around, locking optics with Sally, as all four of her arms reached back and pulled her attacker away from her, before flipping Sally overhead and slamming her into the ground in front of Nicole. Sally fired the engines in her feet, launching herself across the ground and bowling her counterpart off of her feet. Falling forward, the droid’s chestplate was torn away by Nicole’s blade, exposing a blazing scarlet orb inside, pulsing rapidly. The program climbed back upright, blocking a second strike from the lynx, before launching herself after Sally. All four of her swords thrust toward the squirrel, only to miss their mark as she twisted herself around and cleaved through the second pair of forearms, severing them. Mecha Sally roared, swinging out wildly and clipping her opponent’s thruster, sending her into a downward spin. As she paused to recollect herself, however, Nicole snatched Sally from the air and brought her to a safe landing on the bridge. “Thanks, Nicole.” Sally smiled as much as she could with a metal face, standing herself upright and scooping up the sword she’d dropped earlier, as the two looked up at the hostile robot. It howled with rage, and charged down toward them. Jumping aside, the two separated as she flew between them and ripped the bridge apart, descending into the pit a short distance before arcing back upwards, soaring above their heads. It locked onto Nicole, snarling at her as it dove toward her. “You die first! You brought her here! She will be converted once you are dead, but you are first! You will die!” It howled, drawing its blades back for the attack. Nicole responded in kind, racing up toward the virus, greatsword primed to drive forward. As they drew close, she took advantage of her weapon’s greater size, thrusting it directly upwards and into Mecha Sally’s gut, cleanly impaling her. The robot’s flight stopped immediately, stunned, as Nicole continued to push upwards, allowing herself a smile as she saw Sally rising into her flight path and beginning to fly down toward the pair. “You missed! Failed! Failure! You’re trapped!” Mecha Sally screeched, raising her weapons again. “Did I miss?” Nicole asked, smirking slightly, locking eyes with the incoming Robian, who shot the same look back at her, brandishing her sword. “My core still burns! I still function! You will still die!”” “Behind you!” “What!?” Mecha Sally’s upper torso snapped around, just in time for the two entangled opponents to collide with the real Sally, as her blade tore through her mutated counterpart’s open chest cavity, impaling her flickering core and erupting from her already-ravaged backplate. Mecha Sally’s optics went wide for a moment, and she let out an ear-splitting shriek, before her core exploding, a bright red fireball ripping through the room and throwing both Freedom Fighters into the walls with a heavy thud. When the light faded, the red aura was gone from the room entirely, replaced with a softer blue. Sally slowly clambered to her feet, stumbling slightly before Nicole caught her, and enveloped her in a tight hug. “Thank you, Nicole… for everything,” She sighed, returning the gesture. “Me? You’re the one that did most of the work!” Nicole replied. “And I couldn’t have done any of it without you,” Sally smiled, letting her sword fall to the ground, before she released her friend and turned toward the throne. “Only one thing left to do now…” Sally walked forward, striding up to the seat, and sat herself down on it. The wires snaked out of it once more, plugging into her body as she closed her optics and tensed herself for a moment. Then, with a brilliant flash of azure light, the dark control room was washed away, fading into the aether as the throne room of the old Acorn palace, the same one that Sally had lived in as a child, took its place. The sun shone through the windows, birds chirping outside, as Sally, restored to her organic form, no sign of the cuts and bruises she’d accumulated over her time trapped in her own head, rested on the seat, smiling warmly. *** Outside, on the frozen tundra, the five Freedom Fighters still stood, waiting quietly. Sonic paced back and forth, while Tails distracted himself by looking over the schematic hologram that Emerl had created. Silver stood nearby, still focused on the Robian, ready to move at a second’s notice if she became active and hostile again. Amy and Emerl just waited, the former looking more apprehensive than the latter. Then, Mecha Sally jolted, as her locked joints disengaged once more, and she began to stumble forward, steadying herself before she could trip. All five looked up at her, expressions a mix of expectant and fearful, before she stood upright, Nicole appeared over her shoulder, and both of them smiled. “Hello, everyone.”

#Sonic: Revival #Sonic #Sonic the Hedgehog #Fanfic #Sally Acorn #Nicole the Lynx #Emerl the Gizoid #Miles Tails Prower #Amy Rose #Silver the Hedgehog #Mecha Sally

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kirachama · 7 years ago

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decoded (707 x reader, part iv)

summary: As one of the newest recruits for Hackers Chasing Hackers, one of your goals is to help recruit the infamous hacker 707 into the ranks. When other members of the group start dropping off the radar, a misunderstanding leads you to being banned by the group. Determined to clear your name and get to the bottom of the disappearances, you end up working with none other than the great 707 himself.

rating: 13+ (hacker au, spoilers involve 707′s real name, which are probably not spoilers anymore at this point. /shot)

notes: ah. hello! so i meant to get this out before november, aka nanowrimo, started, but as always things don’t go as planned. anyone from around that time may remember a poll that i put up concerning this fic and the... results from that have been incorporated, perhaps in a way none of us expected. /shot

please enjoy and once again thanks to my friends kamu and @cannibalisticskittles for their help with this chapter!

previous chapter || next chapter

There are reasons why 707 is known as one of the best hackers in the world.

His attention to detail is one of them. It comes with the territory though. One tiny mistake can lead a myriad of errors within a function. And an error ridden function is likely not work, which could result in the weakening of the program as a whole. So naturally, when something has been changed, especially by another person, he’s quick to notice.

Like right now.

Someone has altered the code for his defensive systems. Saeyoung has programs set up for these kinds of things, and while he doesn’t doubt their effectiveness, sometimes it’s good to manually check things. He skims over the the code, sipping at his PhD Pepper. There are minor changes here and there, but for the most part everything is still the same. None of the changes are inherently harmful; even with them, everything still works, albeit less efficiently than what he prefers. Whoever is doing this is trying to be discreet about their mischief.

The keyword here being trying.

Saeyoung checks to see if he can track the source and, of course, they covered their tracks. Not that it’ll help them much. It takes him a couple minutes to uncover the hackers. The IPs look familiar, and when he checks he finds they belong to two members of Hackers Chasing Hackers. Saeyoung’s lips tug upward into a grin. It looks like she’s one of them.

“Interesting…” he murmurs. Normally, Hackers Chasing Hackers takes a while to nurse their wounds when he actively retaliates after one of their attacks, so he wonders if maybe this is something orchestrated by either her or her partner. It wouldn’t be the first time that one or two members of the group has gone after him on their own.

He leans back in his chair and stares up thoughtfully at the some of the glow in the dark stars he’s stuck to the ceiling. Of course, he can’t just let the two get their way. After all, he has a reputation to uphold. Bets are they’re trying to weaken his defenses a little before they attack so that they have a better chance of taking him down. Saeyoung scoffs. It’s a viable effort, but in the end, it’s not going to work.

His hands hover over the keyboard. If he wanted to, Saeyoung could crush them and all their hard work almost instantly.

But then the image of that girl’s flustered expression as he remembers it from the party comes to mind.

And with it, an interesting idea.

“...just how much more of this is there…” you grumble lowly, clacking away on your laptop. It’d been a few days since you and Minji had decided to take on 707. For the most part, things have been going rather smoothly, with the only issue being that his security system is much, much larger than you had anticipated. To compensate, you’ve been spending every spare moment trying to get as much done as you can. But you can already tell that it’s still going to take way longer than you had hoped to execute this plan. And the longer you take, the more likely 707 is going to figure out what you’re up to. The thought of whatever retribution he might have in store for your efforts sends shivers up and down your spine. You don’t think that you could take another week without your baby. The possibility of that alone powers your fingers to move a little faster.

Your stomach growls, protesting your decision to use your lunch break to hack instead of eat. You’ll get a sandwich or something you can eat on the way to your next class. For now, you’d rather use the time you have sitting down to hack.

“Hey!”

The sound of Yoosung’s voice makes you nearly jump out of your seat. You scramble to finish the little bit of code you’re working on, not wanting Yoosung to see what you’re doing. To be honest, you doubt he’d be able to tell, but better safe than sorry. Once you’re done, you look up to find two things, or rather, two people. Person number one is obviously Yoosung, who plops himself down right next to you and person number two… is the red haired guy from the party, grinning from ear to ear.

Every hair on your body stands on end as you watch the redhead settle himself on Yoosung’s other side. You’re pretty sure he’s not a student; that red hair of his sticks out like a sore thumb so you definitely would have seen him before. Then why is he here? Yoosung seems to realize that you’re staring at his companion and introduces him to you. “This is my friend, Saeyoung!”

“Hello~” the redhead bows his head, not bothering to hide the mischievous grin on his face. “Nice to meet you again!”

All the color drains from your face as Yoosung swings his head around to look at you, clearly confused. “Again…? Have you guys met before?”

“Uh… ” you mumble, unsure of what to say. Should you just lie and say that maybe Saeyoung has mistaken you for someone else? Or do you tell him the truth? But if you do that, you might just have to tell Yoosung everything… Before you can even make the decision yourself, Saeyoung decides to make it for you.

“We met at the party,” he answers in nonchalant tone.

“Party…” It takes a moment for the light bulb to go off in Yoosung’s head. “Oh! The RFA party! You were there too?”

“Um… yeah,” you nod sneaking a glare over at Saeyoung. His grin only widens in response.

Yoosung doesn’t seem to notice the dirty looks you’re shooting at his friend and pouts at you. “I was one of the hosts… Did you see me? Why didn’t you say hi?”

“You… looked kinda busy when i saw you,” you reply. It’s not entirely a lie, but you also had been actively trying to avoid him as well. “So I didn’t really get a chance…”

That answer seems to satisfy Yoosung, “Oh! I see!”

“Yeah, sorry about that…”

“It’s okay! I hope you still were able to have a good time!” Yoosung gives you a warm smile, which makes you feel a tiny bit guilty. Maybe you should have said hi to him after all… “I don’t remember seeing your name on the guest list, though… Did you come with an organization?”

You nod slowly, not liking where this seems to be headed.

“Oh cool! Which one?”

“Uh…” If possible, you’d like to avoid a slip up like you had last time, but since it’s been a couple weeks you can’t even remember any of the other groups that were there. Maybe you should just come clean after all… It’s not like Yoosung finding out you can hack would be the worst thing in the world.

“Didn’t you say you were part of that group selling keyboards?” Saeyoung interjects, in a surprisingly helpful way. Obviously, you didn’t, and you know Saeyoung knows that. Despite the fact he pushed you into this mess, the fact that he’s throwing you a lifeline is strange. But you’d be a fool not to take it.

“Yeah! Yeah! That’s right!” you agree, a little too enthusiastically.

“Ohhhhh,” Yoosung’s head bobs up and down in an enlightened way and you inwardly sigh, relieved that he seems none the wiser. Then, after a beat, he adds, “I remember you saying you were looking for a new gaming keyboard, Saeyoung, is that how you guys got to talking?”

You glance over at Saeyoung, who’s smile wavers just the tiniest bit, and respond in a careful sort of way, “Yeah, that’s right… he told me that he needed a new keyboard…”

“I thought so!” Yoosung nods again takes a big bite of the sandwich he’d bought for lunch. “Oh, did you know Saeyoung plays LOLOL too?”

“Does he?” you ask, raising an eyebrow. It doesn’t surprise you that a friend of Yoosung’s would play LOLOL, but if you remember right, Saeyoung told you at the party that he was absolutely no good with computers… Was he exaggerating when he said that? You look over at Saeyoung who gives you a tight smile. Something about his expression feels… off, but you can’t seem to pin your finger on it.

Yoosung chirps, “Yep! He’s even on our server!”

“Oh really?” That makes sense. Usually, people tend to play on the same servers as their friends. “What’s your username, maybe I’ve seen you around or something!”

Saeyoung laughs a bit and scratches the back of his neck looking a bit shy, “Ah… I don’t play that often…”

Yoosung nearly spits out the food in his mouth, “What!? You play a lot!”

“...in comparison to you, not really~” Saeyoung teases. You have to stifle a giggle. You don’t know anyone who’s as addicted to LOLOL as Yoosung. It’s a miracle that he’s made it this far in the real world. Sometimes you think that he should just become a professional LOLOL player instead of whatever it is he’s planning on doing in school.

“...you say that, but you’re the best player on the server,” Yoosung retorts, puffing out his cheeks in a pouty sort of way.

You blink, surprised by Yoosung’s comment. The best player on the server is Saeyoung? But that would make him… “Awesome Hacker?”

“Yeah,” Yoosung huffs. “That’s him alright.”

Your breath catches in your throat at the confirmation. You were willing to believe that maybe, despite his lack of computer skills, Saeyoung can still play LOLOL on a casual level. But there’s absolutely no way that someone like that could be the top player on your server. You’ve never played with him personally, but you’ve heard the stories. Awesome Hacker’s skills are known to be unparalleled. Any party that raids with them is guaranteed to be world first. Hell, there are some rumors that Awesome Hacker may have two extra arms and that’s how they’re so good. And you’re supposed to believe that this godly player and Saeyoung are the same person?

One of them has to be lying. And between Yoosung, your friend who you’ve known since the beginning of this semester and Saeyoung, this handsome stranger who you’ve probably known for a total of fifteen minutes or so, it’s clear who you’re going to believe here. You glare at Saeyoung, who meets your gaze with a quiet chuckle. He must be able to tell that you’ve figured out his little ruse. If it weren’t for Yoosung, you’d be giving that liar an earful right about now.

“So, anyway, what were you doing?” Yoosung switches topics, completely oblivious to the stare war going on between you and Saeyoung. “I was calling out to you for a while.”

“Oh, just some homework,” you lie automatically.

“Lunchtime is a good time to do homework...” Yoosung mumbles thoughtfully as he munches on his food. Then, suddenly, he starts coughing like he’s choking. Alarmed, both you and Saeyoung both pat Yoosung on the back, trying to help him clear his throat.

“Yoosung? What’s wrong?” you ask, voice saturated with worry.

“Home...work…” he repeats weakly. Then he snatches his bag and begins rifling through it like a madman. Yoosung doesn’t seem to find what he’s looking for and then looks up at you, like a helpless child, “I...I think I left my homework in my last class….”

“Oh.” Knowing him, he was probably working on it during class instead of paying attention to the lecture. “Maybe it's still there…”

Yoosung’s eyes begin to dart around, as if he’s trying to figure out what he should do. Then he suddenly stands and sputters, “I… I’ll be right back!”

Then, before you can say anything else, he dashes out of the lunchroom.

“I really hope he finds it…” you say quietly, staring at the door he ran out of. It’d suck if he had to redo it, especially if he’d managed to actually get a lot done.

“Hopefully~”

The sound of the other voice causes you to freeze. Yoosung's impromptu departure means that you're alone with him. You turn your head to find Saeyoung staring back with an owlish expression. You have your reservations about being alone with him but at the same time since Yoosung’s gone now, you can actually give this guy a piece of your mind.

“So,” you begin. “You have some explaining to do.”

He shoots you a playfully evasive grin. “Do I?”

Something about the look on his face makes you feel a little tingly, but you ignore it and hiss, “Don't play dumb with me! You said at the party that you were no good with computers, but just now Yoosung said that you're the best player on our LOLOL server.”

Saeyoung merely shrugs and dramatically declares, “Maybe my love for LOLOL transcends my non-existent computer skills!”

“I'm not buying it,” you lean in a little closer to glare at him. “Why did you lie? Do you have something to hide?”

“Nooo~”

“If you’re trying to convince me otherwise, you’re going to have to try harder than that!” You look up into Saeyoung’s eyes, trying to see if maybe you can find something there. But all you can see amidst the golden hue of his eyes is your reflection.

He chuckles a bit and leans in toward you, “Maybe you’re the one who needs to try harder? Your seduction technique needs a little bit of work~”

You squeak when you realize just how close the two of you are to one another and jump backwards so that you’re at a more respectable distance. Saeyoung laughs and despite the fact that you’re red with embarrassment, you continue to glare at him. “I wasn’t trying to seduce you!”

“Oh?” he cocks his head to the side, eyes alight with amusement and a dash of confusion. “That’s too bad.”

You blink. Too… bad? What does that even mean? Did he think you were trying to actually flirt with him? Did he want you to? The thought of it makes your face feel warm and you look away, flustered. You were just trying to intimidate him into telling you the truth, but it- Something clicks in your head and you turn back to Saeyoung, glaring through narrowed eyes, “....are you trying to distract me?”

“Damn, my plan’s been foiled,” he responds in a lighthearted tone that makes it clear that he’s still toying with you. It’s a bit frustrating, but you’re not ready to give up.

You click your tongue in annoyance, “Too bad. So sad. Now out with it, I’m not letting you go until you tell me what you know.”

“...don’t you have class soon?”

He has a point. You look away from him, contemplating for a bit before you mutter, “I… I’ll skip it.”

“...what about when Yoosung comes back?” he adds, still clearly amused by all this. “Are you going to keep grilling me then?”

You groan. He’s got a point there too. Of course, you could just reveal to Yoosung that you’re a hacker, but you’re still not sure if your friendship is with him is on a high enough level for that reveal yet. Saeyoung still had that damn grin plastered on that smug mug of his. You can’t help but wonder where a nice guy like Yoosung met a dude like this.

“Give up yet?” he asks in a mockingly sweet voice.

“No!” you sit up straight and continue to glower at him. “Listen, obviously you must know something because if you didn’t, you would just tell me and be done with it.”

“Oh, you think so?”

For a split second, you doubt yourself. There’s the chance that this guy is just some weirdo who knows nothing and is just enjoying screwing with you right now. But he was at that party and he’s here right now. You don’t think that’s some coincidence.

“No. You definitely know something,” you tell him firmly. “Tell me what you know. Though, even if you don’t, I’ll find out one way or another- I am a hacker, you know.”

Saeyoung’s catlike smile is replaced with a contemplative stare. Is that… a bad sign? You’re not quite sure, so you peer into his eyes again, trying to see if you can find a trace of what he could possibly be thinking. Once more you find nothing, and he says nothing, you feel a ball of nervousness begin to grow inside you. Then, he begins to speak, and you brace yourself for whatever he has to say.

But what you hear isn’t an explanation, but a loud cackle. Saeyoung holds his stomach as he dissolves in a fit of laughter. You can’t help but feel a bit embarrassed sitting next to him as he’s starting to gain an audience. Once he starts to calm down, he speaks, wiping at the tears that had formed at the corners of his eyes, “...okay, you got me.”

Your pulse quickens at the sound of his words.

“I’ll tell you what I know.”

#mystic messenger fanfic #707 x reader #mystic messenger fanfiction #saeyoung choi #mystic messenger 707 #as usually i'm nervous with this fic #i really love it but it's so hard to write #for multiple reasons #both saeran fics were easier to write than this #so i really do hope that people enjoy

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