#but stragglers gonna straggle
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You know what's interesting to watch is that I feel like a lot of people have very thoughtfully and maturely moved away from "I don't like this specific character/ship/fictional work and here's a reason why it's problematic" but we still have a lot of "if you don't like this specific character/ship/fictional it's problematic" floating around (and the more extreme example, "everyone who dislikes this one specific thing is a bigot") and the latter is actually way dumber. Like, it is valid, in fact, to dislike a specific work because it has unfortunate implications; the issue is just that analysis cannot simply stop there. It is rather less valid to say "if you don't like this one specific female character you are a misogynist;" that definitely requires a lot of more involved analysis into what specifically their criticisms are, patterns in their preferences, and even then, you are only basing this on internet mannerisms; I think someone who has no favorite characters who are women is unlikely to be deeply involved in feminist causes irl, but this is technically possible, and it's very easy to find the reverse case of people who are terrible to real women and champion fictional ones.
#anyway saw someone insinuate finding im*dna's relationship unhealthy was neurotypical and my eyes rolled so hard they're now in canada#but this is an ongoing issue everywhere. it HAS gotten much better#but stragglers gonna straggle#the weird anons i got during c2 over essek and astrid truly did cement this#like unless you are talking about a white male cishet able-bodied neurotypical character#you can ALWAYS make a claim to bigotry over disliking them. which means you can NEVER stop there and be taken remotely seriously
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more frat kyle or frankenkyle idec i love both maybe just some fluff or whatever u feel like !!! i love ur fics 😫😫💞
warning: reader is drunk like really drunk, nausea but no throwing up, general party stuff yeah
note: writing this while watching asylum for the first time i’m gonna be real i haven’t seen it before. YES i know i changed tenses halfway through this but it’s 2am i’m not changing it
it had been hours since she first put on that skimpy black party dress, applied shades of pressed powder onto her clean skin, curled her lashes, tied her hair, did a coquettish twirl before her mirror for one last final look, then walked to the party a few blocks from her home.
the air was swirling in a most intoxicating fashion, music so loud she swore she saw the sound waves rippling down the packed halls and she felt at home, surrounded by drunk college kids, she fit right in, seeing as she was getting an undergraduate degree in some random major she had no idea how she was going to make a career out of, and the fact that she, too, had intentions to become drunk as fuck.
she doesn’t get drunk often, that’s one thing for sure. when kyle invites her to these types of parties, he goes all boyfriend mode and insists she stay sober so she can keep herself safe and he won’t have to spend all night looking after her while he has a whole frat house of men he has to do so with already.
but tonight, kyle had a pounding headache, likely due from the hours upon hours on top of hours with a side of hours à la mode he spent studying for his final exams of the semester, along with the actual stress of taking said exams. it was all over as of today, and some are choosing to celebrate via a party, but kyle would much rather get a solid nights rest.
he makes it maybe 3 hours into a good nap before awaking for no reason whatsoever, headache dissolved, but mouth dryer than the sahara desert itself, so he leaves the comfort of his warm bed to fetch himself a glass of water.
one careful sip, feeling the water soothe his dry throat, and his phone begins to ring. with every bone, every fiber in his body, he doesn’t want to answer it, but something inside him tells him he better, and to his surprise, it’s her.
he’d be lying if he said a lovely feeling didn’t sprout in his stomach when he saw her name lighting up her phone, and he almost lets it ring too long, dumb smile staring at her name, but he does pick up in the end.
“hey baby you alright?” he always starts their phone calls off the same way, even if he’s the one who calls first. there’s something so sacred to him about enduring her safety before anything else in conversation with her. he tries to do everything in his power to show how much he cares.
“kyle?” one word from you is all it takes for him to be grabbing his keys and jacket off the dining room table. something about the slur in the word she spoke, the way it came across as a question, kyle figured she needed him right now. sometimes he wonders if he just really likes being needed.
“where are you right now, sweetheart?” the pet name and the familiar drawl informed her that her suspicions were correct, she was, in fact, speaking with the boy she loved, the boy who didn’t come to this party.
“at a party,” she hiccuped and stretched her arms out wide, hearing her joints crack and pop.
“awesome. can you tell me where?”
“maybe…” she laughed too hard at her own joke and his deafening silence made her uncomfortable so she gave in, mumbling something about a blue house and austin and will, two guys kyle knew who lived in a fraternity with blue painted walls.
when kyle arrived at the house, the party was mostly over, a few stragglers straggling about on the front yard straggedly, and the house wasn’t packed wall to wall like he assumed it once had been that same night.
it wasn’t hard finding her, she was lightly singing to herself while she kicked her legs back and forth childishly, sat atop the kitchen counter. her attention was diverted to the tired boy once he came in to her line of sight, however.
“hey handsome. can i buy you a drink?” he’s worried for a second she truly doesn’t recognize him, but when her arms open sluggishly to engage him in a drunken embrace, he pushed the thoughts aside.
“cute. come on, let’s get home, sweetie.” he takes advantage of her already open arms, wrapping his arms around her waist and lifting her, feeling her slump over the curve of his shoulder and her chin resting on his back slightly.
she’s yapping amongst herself the whole walk to the car, her small happy voice muffled by the cloth of his t-shirt. he approaches his car, setting her down on the ground to fumble around in his pockets for his car keys. meanwhile, she walks her body straight into his, crashing her face into his chest in a sloppy manner, not even bothering to hug him or anything, just pressing herself into him.
“did you know that i love you?” the inky black sky is lit up by only a few stars, a sign that the two were surrounded by city, and with it, dense light pollution that prevented them from ever seeing more than a few twinkling spots here and there once the sun sets.
the keys aren’t in his pants pockets, and frustrated, he tries his jacket pockets now. “yeah, i knew.” finally, feeling cold metal touch his searching fingers, he whips the keys out of the inner pocket of his coat, inserting it into the car door to unlock it and escape the cold night that was upon them tonight.
he opens the door for her, but when he turns to her to coax her into getting in, he is met with a teary eyed look on her intoxicated face.
“hey, what’s with the tears, huh?” he finds a gentle pace rubbing up and down her arms, half to comfort, half to warm up the goosebumps forming from the frosty air nipping at her more and more with every coming second.
“you didn’t say you love me back,” she uses the back of her hand to smudge away the hot, salty tears rolling down her cheeks.
from keeping her at arms length, he closes in the distance and pulls her into his chest, one hand on the back of her head to rub gently with his thumb. “i thought it was implied, my darling.”
his touch feels like a fuzzy blanket on a cold winter night, like petals of a flower blooming and blossoming to her hearts content in her mind, she leans into it to show her appreciation for his presence and ability to care about such trivial matters.
wordlessly, she breaks from him, letting herself into the car and managing to strap herself in successfully, and kyle almost feels proud, as if she normally doesn’t possess this ability.
she waits until kyle has started the car from his seat next to her to speak up again. “can you hold my hand?” she looks at him with tired eyes and he’s fairly certain he’d chop off his entire hand and eat it for dinner if she deemed it necessary.
he inwardly melts, nodding and grabbing her hand from the top of her thigh, giving three gentle squeezes in hopes to make up for his previous wrong.
“alright baby, let’s get you in bed now.” he’s suddenly appeared right next to her, outside the car with the door opened next to her, she must have fallen asleep; because if she remembers correctly, he had just started the car up, now he’s out, and they’ve reached a destination. she squints at the building before her through the window.
“this isn’t my house,” she states plainly as if perhaps he wasn’t aware of this and had made some fatal error.
“yeah, it’s my house. well, not just my house but i do live here.”
“why not my house?” he tosses her arms around his neck before lifting her into his firm hold. he wouldn’t dream of dropping her.
“i figured,” the front door is already unlocked, likely the doing of a forgetful roommate of kyle’s, but it saves him some trouble as he continues down to his bedroom, “since you know, you’re in love with me and stuff,” he kicks his bedroom door open, “that you’d be okay with having a sleepover.”
“i love sleepovers! can i paint your nails?” gently, she’s set down on his bed with care and he’s quick to potter about in his drawers with a chuckle.
“if you really want to, in the morning, sure.” he chucks a clean t shirt and some shorts she left in his room last night she was over at her figure on the bed. “put these on,” he doesn’t mean to sound so demanding, but he figures she doesn’t notice/care.
“can we call cute boys? oh em gee, we can ask them to rate us! how fun would that be?” she’s getting herself all riled up and giddy as he walks back to the bed, shooting her a conflicted look.
he imagines them huddled up around a telephone with a phone book in hand, giggling and dialing the numbers of boys from other frats. a humorous sight to fathom, but not a likely one. “maybe another day, baby?”
“whatever,” she puts on a faux valley girl accent once she finishes in putting on the clothes and now she’s laying down under the green blanket, onto the black sheets next to the boy. once she’s done a comical amount of tossing, turning, adjusting of her clothes, brushing hair out of her face, cracking her back and knuckles, she needily cuddles into her boyfriend, hugging his head into her chest like he usually does to her and holding him there firmly.
he’s pressed up against her boobs, so he’s not complaining, but he does have to turn his head to the side so he isn’t being suffocated by her love.
“you’re pretty cute. you’re a cute boy. give me a rating, cute boy,” she commands and misses the aggressive rolling of eyes he presents as she can’t look at his face.
“rating women is bad for their self esteem. as a young man, i should know better than to reduce a girl to cheap modern beauty standards. you said that, you know?” he tells her with admiration dripping from his words, each consonant soaked in love and happiness.
she laughs too loud for two people huddled up in a room alone. “ok, sure, you big ol’ feminist. you are cute though. you’re so cute. like really, really cute. why did they make you so cute?”
he sighs, not wanting to engage in her antics and hoping if he calms her words, she’ll be closer to falling asleep. his arms circle around to her back, “dunno, sweetie.”
she hums happily. “you called me sweetie.”
“mhm.”
“i like when you do that. hey, never stop doing that, okay? even when i’m old and ugly and crabby and not sweet anymore. please?” her drunken words hold much more weight to them than she imagines, and a pretty feeling sprouts in kyle’s stomach. just the thought alone that even drunk, she sees kyle and her together so far into the future is enough to stir up his insides with a metal whisk.
“promise, sweetie.”
she’s quiet for a good long while, and he cuddles into her more, enjoying the attention and intimacy of behind held like this. he loves her more than she’ll ever understand.
“which boob is your favorite, left or right?” she speaks her mind and it takes every mature bone in his body not to burst out laughing.
“i can’t choose, i love them both equally as much as i love you.”
“ok but if you had to choose just one?”
“i’d have to say probably left.”
“of course you would, you pig man. the left one is bigger. you’re gross.” he can’t help but giggle at her, he wonders if she knows how funny she can be sometimes.
“if i’m so gross, then why are we cuddling in my bedroom, huh?”
“beats me. i didn’t even get a say about coming here. in some books, this counts as a kidnapping.”
“are you gonna call the cops on me, baby?”
“nope. i have stock hole syndrome or something. i’m totally obsessed with you now.”
“good. i like how obsessed you are with me. makes me feel like less of a creep for being so obsessed with you,” he speaks more truth that she seems equipped to handle right now, but she takes it well.
“i bet i’m more obsessed. sometimes when you’re in class and i miss you, i put your hoodie on a pillow and cuddle it n stuff and i pretend it’s you.”
“wow, what a freak you are.”
“hey! at least pillow kyle is nice to me! he can’t even talk. i think i like that better. you should shut your big fat mouth once in a while.”
“if i couldn’t talk, how could i call you sweetie? does pillow kyle call you sweetie like i do?”
she sighs. “you got me there…”
“i have a folder in my phone full of pictures i took of you when you didn’t know i was. i look at them all the time just cuz you look so pretty in them.”
“aww, you think i’m pretty when i’m not looking?”
“i think you’re pretty all of the time.”
“you’re such a sap. you’re pretty too though, don’t worry.”
“i wasn’t worried. i already knew, all the boys round these parts tell me all the time,” he jokes.
“oh yeah? you’ve been getting busy in this house?” she sounds much more sober than she first was when she called him, not completely, however.
“you know it. i’m the hottest piece of ass in this house. just cuz we’re all into chicks doesn’t mean we don’t take advantage of that every now and then.”
“really?” she sounds too close to convinced, so he tears away from her cradle and gives her a silly look.
“no.”
she reaches up to brush some blond hair from his dark eyes and lets her hand linger while she traces absentmindedly across his facial features.
“you haven’t kissed me all night.”
“didn’t know if you wanted to be kissed, sweetie. i wait until you’re sober for consent, i’m cool like that.”
“kiss me.” she was the one who instructed him to do so, yet she’s the one who pulls his face into hers, pausing a moment before making contact, letting their lips just gently brush, then pressing them together sweetly.
#ahs#evan peters fanfiction#evan peters#american horror story#evan peters x reader#evan peters x you#fluff#fanfic#kyle spencer x reader#kyle spencer fluff#frat boy kyle#kyle spencer#kyle spencer fanfiction#ahs coven#ahs fanfiction#ahs fanfic#ahs fandom
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Had a fun idea for a quick one shot where unbeknownst to both Soap and Ghost, they meet each other for the first time on a bus. It is really short but it will still be up on ao3 for easier viewing. Notes on the imagined timeline will be at the bottom.
John MacTavish stumbles out of his third pub of the night with his two mates and girlfriend. They're celebrating. John, successfully enlisted and just finished school. Of course they had to celebrate. After John finished up at Credenhill, he could die in an instant. Margaret, his girlfriend, had sobbed at the thought. Now, she cheers along with John, David, and Archie, too pissed to think about anything other than the glory and fun that John would have. They all know his plan, gunning for the SAS. It was actually in their second pub that John drunkenly admitted his plan to lie to get in as early as possible which then led to a fight as to who the youngest SAS member was at enlistment. No one thought he was foolish or prideful. At least, not with a couple beers with whiskey chasers in them.
David leans over on his hands and knees, "I'm gonnae hurl."
Archie slaps a hand on his back, "Really? You're gonna gives the fucking Manc that win? That shit in there was piss compared to the shit they give bairns in Scotland!" He straightens and throws both arms in the air in an elated cheer, "SCOTLAND!" Then he howls like a monkey.
Glasgow is huge. They could have done this there. But that also means John would have had to stumble home to somebody's house and word of his…poor…behaviour would reach his parents. So they'd driven a few hours under the guise of a study trip to good ol' Manchester. Archie wouldn't let them forget where they were from though.
A few late-night stragglers give them confused and even irritated looks, but no one actually says anything.
Margaret kisses John's cheek as she hangs off him. "I'm starving. Hankering." Her eyes light up, "Let's get some chippers! Then we can head to the hotel."
“Right, who’s paying for that then?” David takes a second to interject before doubling over again with a concerning burp.
“I’m more worried about getting a ride.” John gives his most sober thought of the night.
“We walked before.” Margaret still hangs off him.
“Bus is right there and it’s dark. Davy over there also won’t vomit if we’re riding.” The lad had the magical ability they had all dubbed, anti-car sick. He’d hurl once they got wherever they were going but he wouldn’t be wearing it. Hopefully.
He tugs on the sleeve of Maggie’s dress and guides the group towards the nearest bus in a drunken stumble. David burps again which gets them to all start laughing, definitely disturbing everyone currently on the bus. Thankfully, there weren't a lot of people currently present. They drift past them as uni students advert their gazes and older individuals carefully track the stops until they get home. There are also a few straggles like them who stand in solitude, reeking of booze.
David drops down on one of the seats towards the back, far from everyone else. The rest join, quickly filling the small space. It puts John leg to leg with a fucking beast of a guy trying his best to slump in his seat, his head dropping low and arms on his knees as he clutches a beat-up cassette player. He doesn’t nod along to the music playing. At John’s contact, he squeezes his impressively muscled legs together and pulls the sleeve of his dark jacket over pale hands. John is ready to write him off as another uni student until another cursory glance reveals to him the standard issue military duffle bag sitting at his feet. John just sees the edge of a patch but wouldn’t be able to see the name without leaning over, quite obviously. The guy is military. John would chalk it up to just personal interest in the aesthetic but with his straight back, bulk, and seemingly religiously cropped hair, he had to be. His size and the scar on his lip says he has seen combat but he just looks…so young. Older than John, definitely, but not an old grizzled general.
He catches John staring, tilting his head towards John. And maybe it’s the drunken stupor or the passing lamplight, but his eyes are the prettiest ones he has ever seen. Perfect brown circles like the rich coat of a hunting dog. Their gaze is just as sharp but they’re set in such soft lidded eyes. The stranger flattens his lips and gives John a nod.
It’s a sign as any but something pulls John towards him, keeping his back tilted away from Margaret. He’d feel bad if she was paying him any attention instead of guiding herself through breathing exercises to not hurl.
“Hey.” He says, loud enough to be heard over his flimsy headphones. The small twitch of his eyes tells him he’s heard him, even if he doesn’t answer. The military is large. Chances are, he would never run into this guy again. Hell, he’d likely never see his cousin during work and he’d gotten him interested in the first place. It’s probably why he’s not embarrassed to hold his hand out to him. “ ‘M John.”
He can’t ignore him now that he’s loudly extended the invitation of conversation. He pockets the cassette player and shrugs the headphones off, “Simon.” His grip is cold but strong. Some reason, it warms him.
“You military?”
Simon’s jaw drops a little, like he’s stammering, then he clamps it shut. He tries again, “Yeah.”
“I just got accepted.”
Simon drops his gaze to his feet. He doesn’t offer him congratulations or anything of the sort.
“You heading out or just coming in?” He’s not in uniform. At least, not that John can see. His pants are basic black cargos and he can’t see his shirt under a normal worn-down jacket.
“Coming in.”
“Which part is harder?” The closer he gets to finally leaving, the more his excitement turns into something more bitter. He hopes it will go away.
“It depends on what you’re coming home to.” He rubs his lips, scrubbing hard until they’re raw. He leans back and finally turns his head towards John, “You want a tip?”
John nods.
“Get your shit together before you leave.”
The bus begins to slow and before it can even stop, Simon swipes of his bag off the ground and stands.
“Is that what you’re doing? Getting your shit together?”
Simon hangs off a ceiling strap and now at his full height, John can fully see the strength in him. It isn’t even because of his muscles. He could be the smallest person imaginable and he’d still see him in the same light. He trusts him even though he will never see him again. Lucky guys to be under him.
“Honestly? I don’t think I can. Enjoy the rest of your night, Johnny.” John unashamedly watches him step towards the front of the bus, swaying as it stops.
John stands, “Hope I see you then, sir.” He salutes him, back as straight as he can make it. He knows he looks like a mess, nothing worthy of being a soldier, with swept dark hair brushing his hair and neck, glued to his face in drunk sweat. His eyes are most definitely glassy and his hands shake. But still he tries.
Simon smiles and salutes him back.
Then he’s gone, stepping off the bus onto a dark street with broken lamplights.
To me this would take place when Simon takes a leave of absence to help his family and throw out his dad. I'm not putting any concrete ages because figuring that out might age me considerably. It doesn't matter if any of it makes any sense. I don't care.
#call of duty#john soap mactavish#simon ghost riley#modern warfare 2#soapghost#cod#call of duty mw2#mini fic#one shot#mw2#fanfiction#fan fiction
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Daywan has spent her whole life knowing she was going to be a Second. It was rare, but they happened sometimes, a Second soulmate after the first died, or if something fundamental changed about a person. (The Glaive had a lot of Second Words.) What else could her Words indicate? "Thank you for taking care of my son, but why didn't you say he was here?" She'd fought against those Words for years, they'd been the center of her teen angst. Daywan had avoided children and childcare like the plague.1
Anonymous said: 2 And then came the Nifs came. They'd been in a little town, straddling the border of Lucis and Tenebrae, neutral for centuries, but the Empire hadn't cared. She'd snatched a baby out of a dying woman's arms and never looked back. As she'd begun the terrifying march that would ultimately take her to Insomnia, she'd collected children and dragged them with her. She'd bitterly regretted her adamant ignorance of childcare, but she could no more leave them to die than she could stop walking.
Anonymous said: 3 "Thank you" was waiting for her. Somehow, arguing with the guards at the gates of Insomnia with her gaggle of children clinging to her legs, climbing her back to tug on her hair, (trying to put braids in with stubborn tenacity) it didn't seem so bad now, to be Second. Not after what she'd seen. She had someone who was waiting for her, maybe he'd be the father of one of her kids. It just made sense when she found a job as a childcare worker, a little less when it turned out to be in the Citadel
Anonymous said: 4 And then there was the sweetest little boy in the daycare, probably a smuggled in relative. She got more then most, given her willingness to look the other way. And then the King came into her room, as the last straggler of the day, the new boy helping her wipe the table down as she talked about some fun foods she'd eaten (trekking cross country with demons and Nifs hunting you cut down on your food prejudices) and then, "Thank you for looking after my son, but what is he doing here?”
Anonymous said: 5 Daywan isn't even sure what she stutters in response. The warmth in her Words let her know exactly who the King was to her. Hopefully something suitably innocuous, she needed to get home and have a breakdown as she dealt with this revelation.
Anonymous said: Actually, let me change my suggested name for the daycare worker to Daywren. It flows better I think, Daywren Silverblade.
Me: This is SO stupidly adorable I love it. Gonna expand on this backstory but I really like this idea (especially of her being non-Galahdian but totally adopted because of all the kiddos she kept rescuing). Ummmm, don’t think that name will work? FFXV has it’s Naming Theme and all. Think I’m gonna call her .... Lucina. The kiddos just call her Nina because it’s easier to say.
And just-
Lucina has always been an odd child, avoiding childcare and kids like the plague after learning what the swooping scrawl on her forearm MEANT, always more willing to learn to fight and hunt and fish than most little girls her age. Always more stealthy than she should be, always more precise in action than she needed to be. The other townsfolk nod sagely to themselves and say that she’ll be sent off to the city academy once she’s old enough, become a career woman for sure. Possibly even a military woman. Lucina doesn’t mind the thought of it. Can’t get much farther from childcare than being a soldier.
But then Niflheim comes. Niflheim comes and there is a child screaming in the arms of the woman who just got shot at least a dozen times and there is no saving the woman, but she holds out her child with crazed eyes as Lucina runs by and she takes without thinking. And then she is alone in the wilderness. With a baby.
Oh no.
She picks up more of them as she goes on, other children of various ages, some small, some less small, all of them lost and scared and in need of someone to care. She steals or trades for milk to feed the littlest ones, thanks the one bit of forethought she had in taking her bow and arrows with her when she ran as she hunts down food for the ones that are too old for milk.
She isn’t quite sure HOW she makes it to Lucis without losing any of the five children she picked up, just that she did.
And then she learns of Galahd’s sudden, dramatic fall. Finds out when she stumbles on a tight-knit trio of children with ratty braids in their hair and wild eyes and she can’t help but take them too.
She picks up a Galahdian pre-teen somewhere in between the toddlers and adolescents she keeps stumbling on and she could cry from relief in having help minding, caring, and feeding.
By the time she makes it to the gates of Insomnia at age 25, exhausted and underweight and triumphant, she has fifty whole kids and three pre-teens straggling along behind her. She is NOT in the mood for the gate guard’s pomp and circumstance, and the gate guard is not prepared for Lucina’s near feral protective instincts of the kids clinging to her legs and crawling on her back adding braids to her hair (she has so many Clan braids without knowing what they are it isn’t even funny). She gets let in and Little Galahd hears about her somehow so by the time she’s finally in the gates, there’s a hoard of excited, tearful Galahdians ready to reclaim their kiddos and then claim the new kiddos AND their keeper because this woman just returned like- 40+ of their missing kids. There are literal brawls (later and in private) to determine who gets to formally adopt her into their Clan.
Lucina is too tired for the first two weeks to care. Barely bats an eye when a man approaches and introduces himself as Sonitus and asks if he can take out all but one of the braids in her hair. She tells him that if he’s willing to face the screaming hoard of kiddos that will descend upon his soul, then by all means.
It’s only later someone thinks to sit her down and explain Galahdian adoption, but she has no family now so ... being the adopted sister of a Bellum is alright she guesses. Better than being alone and homeless.
Lucina ends up getting a job in childcare. Despite never having wanted to do things with children before and not having any professional schooling in the caring of kids, apparently everyone has heard of her fifty kid entourage and assumed she was some kind of childcare person who lost her papers. Since nothing is as terrifying as keeping fifty kids (several of whom are infants) alive in the wilderness, when she is offered a daycare job by one of the Galahdians who Knows Somebody With An Opening, she takes it.
She did not expect the Knows Somebody would actually be “the guy who hires Citadel people owes me a major favor” and the Opening to be the CITADEL DAYCARE.
Okay fine whatever. Better than being jobless and at least the kids in there are healthy, well fed little scamps and food is just a microwave or oven away rather than a mile into the wilderness and ready to run if it catches her scent.
For all Lucina claims to not have a way with kids, she is Good With Kids. She had no idea why kids seem magnetically attracted to her but they are and the other workers quickly learn to yeet the problem children her way.
Which is why when she finds a newcomer smuggled in on the day she is alone in her shift (the other worker meant to work the shift with her called in sick) she doesn’t bat an eyelash and is just grateful he’s such a sweetheart. He calls her Nina without hesitation (the nickname the other daycare kiddos gave her, apparently Lucina is hard to pronounce for tiny tongues) and trundles after her in all his five year old glory, trying dutifully to help her with things so she doesn’t force him to go interact with the other kids (she does not force him, what’s the point of forcing a shy child into a situation where they don’t feel safe? It will only end in tears, let him get used to watching the others before encouraging interaction).
She doesn’t notice the Citadel’s slow descent into madness or the way two of the five Crownsguard that lurk on the outskirts of the daycare are repurposed for some other task. Well. She does notice. It’s just that she doesn’t care. As long as nothing tries to enter the daycare unauthorized it’s not her problem (and if something DOES, well, she’s got about five freshly sharpened knives hidden on her person where kiddos can’t reach and adults can’t see and the long looped cord holding back her ponytail has a steel center just GREAT for strangling someone who tries something. These kids are in her care, she’s not going to just leave it up to Crownsguard to protect them if someone so much as lays a finger on them with ill intent).
The servants and the spouses of the Crownsguard, who are apparently all working overtime today for some reason, come to pick up their kids and Lucina herds everyone into neat lines for retrieval while keeping an eye out for imposter adults or strangers (it’s happened before, she ruined her favorite top putting a stop to it before a Crownsguard managed to take care of the issue). One of the maids who works on the royal levels spots Lucina’s tiny shadow (he calls himself Noct, it’s clearly short for something but Lucina thinks it’s cute) and her eyes grow to the size of plates, “That’s-!”
Lucina blinks and idly pets the boy’s hair when he hides behind her leg, “Oh, you know him? He says his dad works upstairs. I know something is going on today but can you call his dad down here? The daycare is closing in an hour.”
The woman nods dumbly, looking shocked for reasons Lucina doesn’t get and wanders off with her own child, who is the last one other than Noct to be picked up. Lucina and Noct hang out for the next ten minutes or so as the father steadily does not come by, and Lucina is hiding her worry well over what to do with Noct as the boy busily helps her clean off the table and put away the last of the toys when the doors to the daycare slam open.
Lucina puts herself in front of Noct on instinct, hands dropping to the knife sheathed in the small of her back and ready to fight before she registers.
The Shield of the King is standing in the daycare.
The King of Lucis is standing in the daycare.
“Dad!” Chirps Noct as he buzzes past her and flings himself into the arms of the monarchy who has that distinctly crazed, frazzled look that only comes from being worried sick over one’s child.
Oh.
Oh dear.
Noct’s dad “works upstairs”.
Noct. Noctis
Oh dear.
Lucina tries to discreetly lower her hands away from the (still sheathed thank goodness) knife but is pretty sure the Shield knows exactly what she was doing. The king is still busy fussing over his son, half-lecturing until Noct starts going on about “Nina” and how much fun he had with her down here.
The King looks up, “Thank you,” he rumbles, “for looking after my son. But why did you not tell anyone he was here?”
The words on her forearm, hidden under a soulmate sleeve, burn like liquid fire and her heart stops.
She thinks- she thinks she says something in return, but her mind is screaming because-
This is her soulmate.
28 years old and she has finally met her soulmate.
And it’s REGIS LUCIS CAELUM. KING OF LUCIS.
From the shocked expression on the king’s face and the way one hand suddenly clamps on his right ribcage, she’s pretty sure he just realized it too.
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Power Rangers AU-Chapter 7
Pairings: romantic Logicality, Prinxiety, Demus, Remile
This Chapter Features: Patton centric storyline, YouTuber!Patton, discussions of a fake fanfiction about Reddie
This Chapter Warnings: swearing, falling from a building, fighting, allusions to anxiety, a transphobic comment, fainting/passing out, use of the word slut(1 time), sympathetic Deceit and Remus
Credit for this AU goes to @when-day-met-the-knight (specifically this post)
If you would like to be added to the taglist for this fic please let me know in reply!
This chapter is long, I didn’t expect it to be so long and to take so long, but this quarentine is not going so good for me. I’m gonna try and get another chapter out soon, but we’ll see. Sorry it’s so long, but I don’t want to split it in half. Anyway, please all of you stay safe and virus free!
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Chapter 7-Blank
"Okay, this is our last shot to figure something out about Virgilius before we can't predict when he's gonna show up again!" Thomas yelled.
"Correct. We have to make this count!" Logan agreed.
Patton and the others nodded and continued running to the sight of the breach. It was a nice Wednesday afternoon and Virgilius had apparently decided to let them finish the school day before attacking. As October drawled on the nights became just a little chillier with the ocean breeze swirling through town. Patton was naturally a faster runner than the others so Logan had assigned him to racing ahead, getting to a high vantage point, and helping him assess the situation.
Patton rounded a street corner and arrived at the little crossroads in the city where many restaurants had outdoor seating and a lot of public activity. Now, the usually quiant area, had a giant rip in space and time the was pouring out monsters like an open wound. Patton summoned his bow, spotted a perfect building roof just next to him, and shot and arrow. As the arrow flew to the roof, a pink lasso type of string extended from it, and once the arrow landed, Patton was pulled into the air.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa, when the heck did you get grappling hook arrows?!" Remus shouted.
"Training on Sunday. I found out I could summon them!" Patton replied.
"If you had been there you would have seen it." Roman remarked.
Patton reached the roof and climbed over the ledge, running across so he faced the square. Monsters were piling out of the breach and pedestrians were all around, cowering and screaming. Patton knocked an arrow back and began firing at the breach.
"Yeah well," Remus paused. "I was busy."
"What could you have possibly been doing?!" Logan asked.
"More like who could you have been doing." Roman mumbled.
"Heard that." Patton chastized.
"Are you slut shaming me right now?" Remus asked incredulously.
"I dunno are you being a s-"
"Shut it you two!" Dee barked.
"What do you see?" Logan asked.
"Pedestrians are everywhere, it doesn't seem like the minions are engaging with them, but if we don't hurry I think they might." Patton explained, firing another arrow.
"What's the call?" Roman asked.
The rest of the Rangers entered the square and looked to Logan expectantly.
"Are they looking to leave the square or are they staying here?" Logan asked.
"Staying here."
"Alright. Here's the plan. Green and Yellow, you two handle the minions around the outside, any of the ones that look like they're ready to attack civilians or ones that might leave the square. Black and Red, you two cover the breach. I'm going to try and direct civilians out of the square and behind the Twisters. Pink, I want you to cover my flank so the others don't have to worry." Logan explained. "Got it?"
Everyone gave an affirmative response.
"Okay." Logan nodded back.
The Rangers broke off. Remus and Dee ran in opposite directions, handling any straggling monsters that strayed from the rest. Roman and Thomas ran forward, slashing through the monsters that hoarded around the breach. Logan raced to the restaurant side of the sqaure, and began helping pedestrians up and getting them running to the alley that let out behind Twisters.
Megan's working today. Patton remembered, his stomach dropping a little. She's in that Twisters. Patton didn't want to think about her possibly getting hurt and continued to try and focus on helping Logan safely transport the pedestrians, but he found it more difficult than usual.
"Hey, so, did you ever come up with a new name for these things?" Remus asked.
"What?" Logan scoffed.
"I hate the word minions, you know that. Those yellow demons plague my nightmares. So, can we please think of something else!" He whined.
"I think just referring to them as monsters is fine." Logan replied.
"That's because you have no imagniation!" Roman, ever the one for dramatics, accompanied him saying this with a slash of his sword and triumphant stance.
"I have-" Logan stooped down to help a small child and their mother out of their hiding place and directed them to the twisters. "an adequate amount of imagination."
"Thinkin' about Patton without a shirt on, is not imagination." Remus sighed.
"Green!!" Thomas, Roman, and Dee scolded.
Patton tried his best to stay focused on helping protect the pedestrians, but he found it more and more difficult, however he didn't think the others' conversation had to do with it.
"Anyway, back to what I was saying earlier, I hate the word minion I say we call them something like, Witchlings!"
"Witchlings?" Thomas asked. "Explain."
"Well ya know, Dragon Witch, Witchlings. It sorta works." Remus shrugged.
"Can't we just stick with monsters?" Logan sighed.
"No!" Remus practically howled.
"Patton how does the breach look now?" Roman asked.
"Um," Patton turned. "Monsters are coming out much slower, and you've lessened the amount quite a bit, but I wouldn't take any chances."
"That was the last of the pedestrians." Logan informed. "Green and Yellow, join me and close in around the breach. Pink, I want you to take over for those two."
"On it!" Patton replied, lowering his bow and searching the sqaure.
He assumed the others were following Logan's orders and tried not to worry. Patton found a monster and pulled an arrow back, firing directly between its shoulder blades. The monster turned to ash. Patton looked around again and found another straggler heading for one of the restaurants.
"This looks like the last of them!" Thomas called.
"Okay, stay on your guard everyone, we all know what happens next." Roman said.
"Do your best to recall anything that happens, all of this interaction could be important." Logan reminded.
Patton affirmed the directions and turned his attention back to lookng for any monsters that left the pack. Then a chill went down his spine. Patton stiffined, the hair on his neck stood up and a bad feeling washed over him. Something is wrong.
"Heya Pink. We don't really get to talk much do we?" A dark voice said behind him.
Patton whipped his body around and came face-to-face with Virgilius. His crown even more daunting up close. The bad feeling only got worse. It was unnatural. Wrong. Patton wanted to get away as fast as he could. To his legs that apparently meant stepping back far too much, tripping on the side of the building, and falling.
He screamed. The wind rushed by him and he felt weightless as he fell. He wasn't thinking. All that ran through his mind was that feeling of uneasy wrong that hit him in the chest. It spread and overwhelmed his senses. His unfocused manner and inability to grasp the situation only made him more worried.
Then the wind stopped. He was in someone's arms so quickly he felt whiplash in his neck. His eyes were still unfocused but he could see and register Remus's green armor. Patton pulled in closer to Remus and grasped what he could.
"Pat are you okay?" Remus asked.
"I-" Patton paused. "yeah, I-I think I am."
Patton released Remus from his hug and allowed him to set him down. The feeling was lessened, but not completely gone. It was almost like phantom pains, not his feelings, but the affect someone else's feelings had on him.
"Aww Pink, why'd ya leave so soon. I was just getting started." Virgilius practically cackled from the roof.
Patton turned back up to him. His eyes caught the gaze of the six purple ones and he tried to read any emotion behind them. Nothing. Unable to see any of Virgilius's other features, Patton tried to focus on his posture. Relaxed, almost lazy.
Patton's attention was torn away. He felt a content and calming feeling push into him. It was frantic though, as if someone was trying desperately to make him feel good again. To take away the fear that Patton worried could consume him. When he registered the arms wrapped around him Patton turned to face Logan who was holding him tightly. Logan buried his head into Patton's shoulder. He wasn't used to Logan hugging him. Typically in times of distress one of the two would place a comforting hand on the other's forearm. This hug though, it was new and certainly welcomed. Patton realized he should proabably hug back, and did so with great enthusiasm. However, almost right away Logan let go.
"I'm sorry." He said, his voice level, but on edge. "I-I suppose I was scared. I'm not entirely sure why though, even if Remus didn't catch you, with your armor being so protective you would have suffered a broken bone or two at the very worst. It's illogical for me to feel so worrisome over such a fall."
"Aww." Patton reached out to hold Logan's forearm like he had done so many times before. "Guess I'm just turning you into a big ol' hugger huh?"
"I wouldn't have phrased it like that, but I guess more physical affection is something I have been growing more accomadated to. Especially with you." Logan's voice had grown more shaky as he said this, but it only made Patton's heart melt.
"That's friendship my dear Blue." Patton chuckled.
It was quiet for a little bit too long.
"I'm sorry am I too far away, or did Kirby here just friendzone this poor guy?" Virgilius yelled from his vantage point.
"What?" Patton squeaked a little more than he would have preffered. He looked over to see the other Rangers in various states of frustration.
"We don't have time for this." Logan scowled. "Red!"
"Right!" Roman let his hand fall from where he had it on his forehead. He looked up to Virglius. "Prince Virgilius! Your reign of terror ends here! You've done nothing but wreak havok. The terrorizing of these people stops today!"
"Uh-huh, okay, and what makes you think that? Hm? You haven't stopped me in the past, and nothing about today makes your odds any better. What could possibly make you think today is the day?" Virgilus yelled back.
"Well-"
"What did you think about Richie and Eddie leaving?!?" Remus called up to him.
"What are you doing?" Roman turned on his brother.
"Trust me." Remus said.
"What?! No, why would I trust-"
"Roman, trust him." Dee cut in. "We talked about this we know what we're doing."
"I'm sorry what?" Virgilius asked.
"The last chapter was posted yesterday. I'm sure you read it." Dee stated, Patton didn't like how calm he was.
"Richie and Eddie left Derry, together. With the others." Remus began explaining. "It came out of nowhere. What did you think of it though? Be real."
"I-I-" Virgilius pulled his hands to his chest and stepped back. "I don't know what you're-"
"Yes you do." Dee stopped his rebuttal. "Downright ended and we know you read it. Just tell us what you thought."
It was quiet.
"Guys, this isn't-" Roman started.
"I liked it." Virgilius said, albiet hesitantly. "I know a lot of people in the comments weren't too pleased because it seemed like leaving Derry diminished the whole point of their recovery together. If they were just going to leave anyway, why spend so long trying to regain the love for the things that they had before."
It was silent again.
"But I thought it made sense." Virgilius continued. "Richie and Eddie spent a lot of time trying to reconnect with their town, but it only really made them want to go back to the past. When things were easier. Not go forward with the new lives they wanted to start together. Being together made it different. It made them realize how moving on and away from Derry wasn't running from their past, they had already accepted the past for what it was. Instead, leaving Derry together was a way of starting a new. Not burying the past, but no longer letting it affect them."
The air was still. Patton had no idea what to do other than think, I need to read this fanfiction apparently.
"So you figured me out!" Virgilius stirred them from their dazes. "What was the point of that? You got me, good for you, what are you doing just rubbing it in?!"
"No!" Dee stopped him. "I swear we're not. We-uh-we were curious. I mean, I never read fanfiction, but the ending to that one stuck with me and I've been trying to figure out why. It just seemed like a pointless build up to some kind of half-assed epiphany. Like the writer had tossed the last six chapters out the window. I was so confused about why she went that way."
"And I thought about the same thing as you!" Remus cut in. "It made sense to me when they left, it just felt more like they were leaving becuase they didn't know how to be together in a town where they didn't feel loved. Derry didn't love them and they loved each other too much to let the town get in the way. Leaving was their best chance at being with each other, being where they wanted to be."
"They just wanted to be happy together." Virgilius seemed to agree. "It didn't make sense to stay somewhere that was training them to stay apart. Being together was what made them happy. All they really wanted was each other and the rest of the Losers' Club."
Another beat of silence.
"Virgilius!" Dee got his attention. "I know we're supposed to be fighting, but I don't want to. Whatever you've been told about us, about how we're liars and cheats, it isn't true. Uh. . . to an extent. We're not perfect, but I'm sure whatever is going on up there, we can help you with."
"He's right!" Patton decided to step in. "We aren't always the best, but we try to be. I don't know what's going on with you, but I can tell that something isn't right. He means it when he says we can help. We help each other, and we help ourselves. We'll be here to help you too."
It was still again. Patton thought he could feel the exhaustion coming off of Virgilius. The weariness grew as they talked to him. It was ridiculous though to think that, how could he sense the prince's emotions from that far away. Patton couldn't see his face, so why did he feel so tired of the fighting. It wasn't his tire though, it wasn't like Logan's exhaustion, or Roman's, or any of the other Rangers'. It was foreign, and strong.
Virgilius screamed.
It was close to hellish. All of the Rangers went to cover their ears and block it out. Patton kept his eyes trained on the prince. He tried desperately to see what was happening, only to find a thick, black, inky aura beginning to surround him. It pulsed and expanded, circling Virgilius's body. Virgilius began to rise into the air, his arms and legs limp, his face still shrouded in the shadows of his crown. His eyes were no longer a glowing purple. Virgilius's body began floating to the ground, slowly and steadily, moving with the aura.
His feet his the ground and the aura exploded. It covered the entire square, encompassing everything in a shroud of blackness. Patton could still see, but it strained his eyes as he tried to find Logan's arm to hold. The screaming stopped suddenly.
"You insufferable brats!!!"
Patton looked to the source of the voice and realized he was no longer standing. None of the Rangers were. The only one standing now was Virgilius.
"Do you know how long it has taken to perfect this thing?!! Perfect my army?!!" It was a woman's voice Patton realized. The voice was domineering and overbearing with a lower undertone that followed, like it was being echoed by a demon.
Finally Patton got the strength to look up at Virgilius. He sucked in a breath of shock as he saw the hood had falled, the crown now being the only thing on his head. He could see Virgilius's face! Patton began attempting to burn it into his memory. His jaw was round, not very defined, his cheeks were a little puffy, but not as much as his own. His cheekbones were very defined however, almost unnaturally so. The first pair of eyes were small, they sat about eye brow level, then the main set of larger eyes, and finally the smallest set right below the middle ones. The outline of his eyes was like his cheekbones, unnaturally sharp. His hair fell to the left of his crown, down to the center of his middle set of eyes.
Virgilius's eyes aren't glowing purple, Patton remembered. He stared up into Virgilius's eyes. His irises were a bright angellic white and his pupils a darker than night black. It was just as unnerving as before.
"Oh I thought I had seen the last of you but you're just so persistant aren't you! It's stupidity is what it is!! It's not human nature, it's not being good people, it's not trying to help those who can't help themselves!! It's stupidity!!!" The voice screamed. "You're all so stubborn and stupid!!!"
"Ngh-" Patton heard Thomas from just a few feet away. he was shuffling around, likely trying to get to his knees. "You're going to lose! And this boy that you're using as a little pawn isn't going to be yours much longer. He's not weak and you're not in control."
"Oh . . . you're not new." The voice replied, almost bored. "How dissappointing. You won't last very long you know. And these kids you've got as the new Rangers, they aren't going to last either. You may be stubborn enough to stay alive, but you're stupid enough to keep fighting."
"And you're weak." Dee said with a strength Patton wished he could muster for himself. He begged and pleaded for his body to do more than look on.
"Excuse me?"
"You heard me you sick bitch!" He yelled. "You're using him! Forcing him to fight us because you can't do it on your own. He's going to leave the twisted hold you have on him one of these days and there's nothing you can do about it. You won't even get down here yourself to fight us!!!"
"Dee-" Patton heard Remus struggle to speak.
"Boy, do you know how many worlds I've conquered? How many civilizations I've made my own?! Believe it or not, I don't care all too much about handling this planet on my own. There are other, more important places for me to be." The voice cackled, it sounded so much like Virgilius, Patton wanted to shrink away. "I don't care about Earth enough to fight for it in person. I can leave that to my little Works-In-Progress. Like this one. This place is perfect training for things like him."
"You can't keep doing this very long." Roman grunted. "We will stop you!"
"Oh please kid. I've fought much worse than you. You're nothing! At least the last Red Ranger was something worth fighting. She was certainly an opponent for my experiments. You though, you don't even come close." She snarled in return.
"Then why are we still alive?! Why are we still here, fighting you!" Logan huffed, clearly straining.
"Now Blue, your Ranger has always been something. Never the same really. I have to say, having a level headed one is a change of pace, but being the smartest in a room means nothing if you can't command respect! You hold yourself like even you can't stand the way you are. You act like you're on a higher level of thinking than others, but really you're just as much of an indiscisive mess as everyone else on this pathetic planet! You don't understand your feelings, you pretend you care only to know deep down you would do anything to be known as the smartest in the room, and to top it all off you're not even a real boy!!"
"Shut up!!!" Patton let out the words, not even realizing they were his own, but it was how he felt.
"Now here's our fighter. Pink. Unexpected sure, but then again, the hell you put yourself through in our own mind is much worse than I could ever really do. I'll give you props for that." Her voice was drowning Patton's ears. He was so angry, he just wanted her to shut up. "In fact, I'll give all of you a little credit. I've certainly thought about going the tear-them-apart-from-the-inside route, but you all are so self-destructive, you do it on your own!"
She was going on, but her words were muddled in Patton's head. He didn't know what she was saying and didn't want to. Then an idea came to mind. Patton tried his hardest, pulling all of his strength and will, he just needed to shut her up. He needed to do something other than sit there. He felt the determination bubbling inside of him, he felt the fear but he channeled, tried to force that fear to make him fight, not run. Patton summoned his bow. It felt so heavy in his hand. Everything was heavy, pulling him down, prying to keep him down. He lifted his torso, fighting the aching it gave him. Patton pulled his arms up, summoning an arrow, and knocking it back.
"Sorry Virgilius, but you gotta go for now." He said, it felt like he was yelling but only a whisper came out.
Then he fired, straight for the crown. In the blink of Patton's eyes the crown had been knocked to the ground. The black aura was gone, Virgilius collapsed to the cement, his eyes purple once again. Patton watched as the world tilted to the side, dimming. His head hit something hard, but he barely registered it.
It was black.
Virgilius scrambling, grabbing for the crown.
Black.
Virgilius again, until the boy disappeared.
Then fuzzy black again. Not like the ink. This blackness was welcoming, not overwhelming.
Patton felt a hand on his arm. He opened his eyes again and saw Logan, his mouth was moving but there was no sound other than the ringing. When did the ringing start? Patton asked himself. Logan looked so terrified. Patton didn't like that expression. Suddenly Thomas came into view, he was also speaking, but it was nothing Patton could hear.
Then finally, the fuzzy black. Patton realized he didn't like calling it black. His world wasn't black. That black, inky terror wasn't in his vision. It was more blank. That's the word, blank. Blankness. A blank world.
Patton let a smile fall on his face. He was okay with everything being blank. Just for a bit.
Taglist:
@tulipscomeinallsortsofcolors @maddarc @pheonix-inside-reblogs @thisismysanderssidesblog @almost-all-my-ships-are-gay @mostpeopleannoyme @the-smol-est @i-sexually-identify-as-a-mistake @nadja-chamack16 @too-bi-too-function @rainbowbowtie @mistypelt1234 @tricksterangel25 @authorized-trash @echocw @stripestar128128 @coffee-mugz @slitherynchicken
#patton sanders#logan sanders#roman sanders#remus sanders#deceit sanders#logicality#thomas sanders#power rangers au#virgil sanders#prinxiety#sympathetic dark sides
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Bad Decisions Are Always More Fun With Friends
Read it on ao3 here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23730796
This is another OPM fic because im on a filthy binge :(
It starts, as all things tend to, with Garou’s bad idea.
“I heard that there’s a poltergeist lurking in the Ato High gymnasium,” Garou proclaims, one hot summer’s afternoon, leaning across the messy scramble of tables between them.
“And? What’s that gotta do with us?” Badd asks, after a short silence that indicated Garou was not about to drop the topic, or sit back down on his side of the table. Garou’s grin stretches wider, seemingly nonplussed by the lack of enthusiasm from the other two. “Of COURSE, we’re going to go check it out!”
After all, being young is about making bad choices, break-ins, and chasing ghosts, although not necessarily in that order.
It starts, as all things tend to, with Garou’s bad idea.
“I heard that there’s a poltergeist lurking in the Ato High gymnasium,” Garou proclaims, one hot summer’s afternoon, leaning across the messy scramble of tables between them. He’s grinning so wide; the afternoon sun reflects off his teeth.
Badd makes a non-committal noise in response, not even looking up from his phone. “And? What’s that gotta do with us?” he asks, after a short silence that indicated Garou was not about to drop the topic, or sit back down on his side of the table. Garou’s grin stretches wider, seemingly nonplussed by the lack of enthusiasm from the other two. “Of COURSE, we’re going to go check it out!”
Badd looks up then, eyebrow raised incredulously. “Why?” he questions. Leaning back, Garou fixes him with his own incredulous stare, as if Badd was the crazy one. “Because I want to see it, obviously.” It wasn’t the first time Garou had come up with a completely random, hare-brained scheme to while away the boredom that boycotting most of the school clubs, and most of his schoolmates, tended to bring. Since it wasn’t the first time, both Badd and Genos had enough good sense combined to realise that following through with any of his plans would end badly.
Genos closes the thick mystery novel he’d picked up from the library earlier for some ‘light reading’ with an audible snap. “We are not going ghost hunting,” Genos says, voice as serious and grave as ever. “Ghost?” Badd asks, looking between Genos and Garou quickly. “That pollyte- thing, it’s a ghost? Damn.” Badd mutters, tapping his phone against his chin in thought. “I thought it was some sort of exercise equipment or some shit.”
Garou rolls his eyes, folding his arms. “It’s not ghost hunting,” he says, resolute. “It’s ghost watching.” Behind him, the last remaining stragglers in the classroom were already heading home at the sound of the last bell, filling the room with the cacophony of scraping chairs and echoing goodbyes. The three of them had been sitting there for hours, with the innocent intent to get their homework done before the weekend. A tumultuous ordeal that they had dragged Genos into with the idea of helping them out, which only Genos had managed to succeed in. The other two had instead gotten nearly nothing done, in between snacking, gossiping, Badd being immersed in some noisy phone game, and Garou being immersed in whatever it was that potentially led to this.
Reaching forward, Garou thrusts the phone he’d been cradling in his hand into Genos’s face. Taking it gingerly from him, Genos held it delicately as if worried it might explode, or that the Cheeto crumbs that littered its surface would stain his metal fingers. Badd leaned over in spite of himself to read the article as well, squinting to catch the words written in some tiny scratchy font that the writer probably picked for the best spooky effect.
“This gymnasium isn't even in our high school,” Genos pointed out. “How do you suppose we get in there?”
Garou cocked his head at him, still looking painfully confident. “We’ll just sneak in, duh.”
At that, Genos gives him a flat impassive stare, judgement rolling off of him in waves. “Ato High is an all-girls school. If we get caught, the consequences would be far worse than sneaking into just any old high school.”
Garou smiled, seemingly completely unaffected by the threat.
“Then, let’s not get caught.”
“No way,” groans Badd, leaning back in his chair. “I ain’t gonna get caught sneakin’ around a girls school. ‘Specially not to go look for some damned ghost.”
Garou frowns at that, leaning forward, bracing his hands against the scratched plastic of the table.
“Why? You scared?” he asks. His voice is pitched low and threatening, in that raspy tone he uses when he’s trying to goad someone into a fight, intimidate train station insurance agents from pestering him, or coerce Badd into joining him in his stupid plans. His breath fans hot and wet against Badd’s face, and he resists the urge to lean back.
“I ain’t-“
“You a coward Badd? Chickening out?”
“Who the fuck are you calling a cowa-“
“You a pussy? A little bitch bab-“
“FINE!” Badd yells, half to get him to shut up, half just to stop him from breathing all over his face. “I’ll go find your fucking ghost with you,” he says, softer now, defeated. He realises almost immediately after speaking that he’d been yet again, goaded into doing something stupid. “I ain’t scared of some fucking ghost,” he mutters as an add on, although more to himself than anything.
“Good,” smirks Garou, arms folding in smug glee, clearly pleased that his friend was as easy to rile up as ever. “C’mon Genos, don’t be such a baby, come along.” He reaches over to grab his friend’s shoulder, an action that was supposed to show camaraderie. Garou realises belatedly that most social cues usually go straight over Genos’ synthetic fibre enhanced head. So instead, he pats him on the back a few times, in hopes that it will jump start his motors into saying yes. Genos continues to watch him silently, gold eyes burning with the force of his disapproval. Garou, to his credit, doesn’t even flinch under the weight of Genos’ infamously heavy glare.
Badd, realising that his pride won’t allow him to back out at this point, reaches over to start smacking Genos on the back as well. “If you don’t come and we get caught, we’ll say that you told us to do it,” threatens Badd, with all the barely concealed desperation of someone who doesn’t want to be doing something stupid alone. Or alone with Garou, which was inestimably worse.
Genos lets out a long-suffering sigh, rubbing at his temples. Cyborgs don’t seem likely to get headaches, so Garou suspected he did this mostly for show. “Fine,” Genos says finally looking slowly from each of their faces, “I’ll go just to make sure the two of you don’t do anything too idiotic. But on one condition. We go in, and we go out as quick as possible, okay?”
“Yeah-“
“And we don’t get caught.”
...
They all decided to meet up at the station nearest to Ato High at nine o’clock. Nine, because if they went in any later, they might miss the last train by the time they leave, and if they went in earlier, they might end up meeting some straggling students. As Badd had so wisely put it, “who the fuck would be in school after nine?”.
Garou was easy to spot. Even in the dim of the night, his white hair stood out, catching the streetlights in its luminescent fibers. Genos was no better, with the station’s fluorescent lights glinting off his bare metal arms. And Badd…
“Why do you have a bat with you?” Garou asked, eyeing the glossy aluminium bat Badd was carrying as he hurried past the station gantry to join them.
“Ah? This?” Badd held the bat aloft. It seemed strangely at home in his hand. “It’s for self-defense.”
“Against?” prompted Garou.
“The ghost.”
“You intend on hitting a ghost… With a bat?” asks Genos, who possessed an uncanny talent of making even the mildest inquiries sound reproachful.
“I ain’t gonna hit it with my fists, am I?” challenged Badd, tone booking no further arguments.
The notion that a physical attack of any form will likely do no damage to a ghost, is a fact that Genos graciously decides not to mention.
The three of them set off towards the towering cluster of buildings that make up Ato High, guarded as it was, by the large wrought iron gate that snakes its way around the school’s perimeter. After a quick jog around, they decided on a spot to scale the gate, obscured safely from any prying eyes by a particularly dense crop of trees.
The silence of the deserted school grounds weighed heavily on their ears. Even on the soft grassy ground, wet with dew, their footsteps seemed loud. Genos gave the area a quick scan, sending the other two a furtive nod after determining that the grounds were truly, empty.
“Alright, let’s go Mystery Hunters!” Garou says, jumping up from the crouch he’d landed in.
“Dude,” groans Badd, “don’t call us that, that’s lame as fuck.”
Immediately, Garou’s face contorts into that particular scowl he wears whenever his creative brilliance is in question.
“It is not lame,” he hisses, and it’s only from sheer force of will and a natural predilection to uphold his pride that prevents him from outright whining.
“I agree,” says Genos, from behind Garou’s shoulder. Twisting around to him, Garou’s scowl turns smug.
“You see,” he says triumphantly, “Genos a-“
“I think its lame,” Genos agrees, voice flat and gravely serious as it ever is. “Why would we even need a team name? We already have our own names.”
Garou groans loudly, putting his face in his hands.
“I know we have names, Genos. It’s just cooler if we have a team name isn’t it? Plus, its like, useful in emergencies.”
“So, you pick Mystery Hunters?” questioned Badd incredulously.
“What exactly would be an emergency that requires a team name?” questioned Genos incredulously.
“I don’t know!” snapped Garou folding his arms in annoyance. “Maybe the ghost might attack us and one of us needs to tell everyone else to run or something.” Genos seemed to consider that situation seriously for a moment, metal hand coming to rest beneath his chin.
“Wouldn’t it be more prudent then,” he says, “if we call out the names individually to better direct-“
“Alright, alright fine, forget the names,” Garou says loudly over him, pinching the bridge of his nose. They’ve only just stepped in the school grounds and he’s already reached his limit. “Lets just go find the damn ghost and go home okay?”
Armed with a startling lack of direction sense, they trudged around the school grounds idly peering into dim windows, searching for the infamous gymnasium. The warm night air beaded sweat on the back of their necks as they ducked into the shadows of buildings and trees.
They soon found that every single building in the school was indiscernible from the last, especially in the dark. Ato High was an old school, and most of its architecture seemed to stand unchanged from its original build. Unmarked and paved in dreary red brick, the buildings were spaced far apart, linked by simple grey stone pavements. Its old and borderline dilapidated structure made it seem especially primed for hauntings.
After a while of aimless wandering, punctuated by the occasional offhanded comment and Genos’ complaint of the grass staining his shoes, Badd spoke up.
“Is that the gymnasium? ‘S fuckin big. Why ain’t our gymnasium that big?” Badd asks, pointing his bat in the general direction of one of the dimly lit, nondescript school buildings. There’s no indication of why he would claim that particular building to be the gymnasium, other than the fact that there is a door, which gymnasiums need, and a seemingly high ceiling, which gymnasiums ought to have.
“Our school doesn’t have the funds for it,” Genos supplies helpfully, “considering our school is a common neighborhood school in comparison with Ato High, which is considered an upper-class high school, it can be expected that their budget would far exceed ours.”
“Huh,” Badd supplies in response, having already stopped listening to Genos after the fourth word in. Beside them Garou rolled his eyes, squinting at the building.
“That’s the main building idiots. The gymnasium’s gotta be behind the school.”
“How do you know that?” questions Badd, voice dripping in an unnecessary amount of suspicion.
“Because no school has their gymnasiums at the front?”
“That,” interjects Genos, “is statistically unproven.”
Garou taps his foot on the ground, well and truly annoyed. “Well, do you have any suggestions Genos?”
Genos nods once, sharply. “We enter the main building and check the layout of the school through the signboards. They surely have them inside the buildings.”
As much as Garou hated to admit it, it was a sensible plan. The doors in the school were locked, as expected. Although they could easily have forced it open by hand, they were doing their best to remain undetected, and any broken locks could be incriminating evidence.
Trying to get into a school furtively held all the enchanting mystery that all high school students secretly desired, even overpowered teenagers like themselves. In the end there was just something infinitely exciting about clambering through a window, into somewhere they really shouldn’t be going, rather than just busting through a door.
The three of them tumbled into a hallway, where Garou immediately leapt forward like a cat in search of his new prey. Genos and Badd brought up the rear, Badd flicking on the light on his phone to use as a torch.
The hallways inside the school seemed just as creepy as the outside, walls painted a drab grey, lined with past accolades and framed newspaper clippings. The light from Badd’s phone reflected off the dark classroom windows, briefly illuminating rows of worn tables and chairs from inside the rooms.
“Do you hear anything? Huh Genos?” questions Badd, his raspy whisper ringing clear against the stark silence of the empty school. Genos pauses mid stride, eyes darting quickly about the empty hallways. With a soft whir, Genos expands his focus, concentrating his sensors.
“No, I didn’t hear anything,” he says after a conclusive scan of the school.
“Then maybe there ain’t no ghost at all,” Badd decides.
Garou turned from where he had gone to stalk (scout) ahead, frowning back at him, one hand propped on his hip.
“How do you figure that?” he asks, the hint of a challenge already leaking into his voice.
“In like, those ghost huntin’ shows don’t they hear the ghosts through like a radio or some shit? If Genos can’t hear anything then it means there ain’t no ghost, is there?” Badd reasons, waving his hand airily.
“Genos, isn’t a radio,” says Garou.
“Well yeah but, he’s like sorta… Right?” Genos certainly was not.
“I am a cyborg, Badd,” Genos says, with all the weary countenance of a man who has had this conversation far too many times for it to be healthy. “I cannot hear anything that a normal human or cyborg is unable to.”
“Huh,” Badd says, obviously stumped. “You can’t like, change the channel or-”
“No.”
“Not even-“
“No.”
Badd considers this for a long moment. Garou considers leaving them to it and going on ahead.
“That’s kind of lame,” Badd says finally. Genos says nothing in reply. His stony face betrays no clues, but his palpable annoyance hangs in the air between them. Garou wasn’t an expert, but he’s pretty sure that if they didn’t find the ghost soon, this entire outing would end up in a night time brawl. One that would surely result in a hefty amount of collateral damage.
And that would definitely ruin the whole ‘let’s not get caught’ part of the plan.
So instead, he changes the subject.
“I found a sign for the gymnasium. It’s down that hallway.”
Their steps echo down the empty corridors, impossibly loud in the silent air. Garou had already taken the lead, striding on ahead as if he had any clue where he was going. Genos walked slower, gold eyes scanning every imperceptible mote of dust that hung in the air, looking for clues, or any sort of sign of life.
Behind them Badd strolled leisurely, content on leaving the heavy thinking to the other two.
"This way," orders Garou, pointing out the sign above a door to their left. It led out to an open-air corridor, linking it to the gymnasium. To their mild surprise, and Garou's growing enthusiasm, it wasn't even locked.
"Suspicious!" Garou proclaimed, voice a cheery sing song that contrasted oddly with the mood of the room.
Bads could reason that someone had simply forgot to lock it, but decided that he'd rather not start that argument.
The infamous gymnasium was less impressive than Badd had hoped. It was smaller than some gymnasiums he'd seen, and the floors and benches looked scuffed and aged. It looked much more... Normal, than any of them had been expecting. Large high windows bleached the room grey with moonlight, making the room far brighter than the wandering hallways they were in before. Badd felt more like he was here for a training camp, rather than to catch ghosts.
Garou, evidently, did not feel the same. The minute he stepped in, he turned to sniff around the room, climbing up on benches, and scoping out every corner, as if sure the ghost was about to jump out from behind the trashcan.
After a second, Genos pulled out his phone, tapping furiously on it. Perhaps he had already lost interest in the situation, but Badd wasn’t going to call him out on it. Badd was getting pretty bored, pretty fast.
"Do you think its a female ghost?" questioned Badd aloud, mostly to start a conversation before he fell asleep standing up.
"It’s a girls school so, I would imagine so," deduced Genos. He had started dutifully reading the edgy occult post Garou had shown them earlier that day, the light of his phone casting ominous shadows on his face. Badd watched him, tapping his bat to his side mindlessly.
"Is she hot?"
"Is she hot?" spluttered Garou. He turned from where he was perched like an over-sized gargoyle on a crate of basketballs, trying to read the text over Genos' shoulder. "It’s a ghost Badd. Of course, its hot."
Never one to miss an opportunity to be judgmental, Genos paused his reading to give Garou his most withering stare. “Really?” he asked, voice dripping with derision.
"Should’ve known better than to ask," muttered Badd, rolling his eyes, although his twitching lips betrayed his amusement.
They milled around some more, before Garou probably reached the end of his patience, and demanded that all three of them split up. The post itself had no clues on how to summon the ghost, only that it regularly made a mess of the gymnasium in the night. Any passers by outside would hear the vicious clanging of overturned crates of sports supplies, and harshly rebounding balls, bouncing around the echoey chamber. Overall, not a lot to go on.
Garou reasoned that the ghost was probably just shy, and if either of the other two had any concern for their friend’s sanity, they decided not to voice it. Instead, Genos volunteered to check out the storage shed, Badd the perimeter, and Garou on stakeout in the gymnasium.
...
Badd milled around the front door, scuffing his shoe against the pavement. If the ghost wasn't going to turn up, he doubts any amount of 'searching' is going to make them turn up. So instead, he bided his time until he was sure enough time passed for him to return without raising suspicions of slacking off.
As Badd turned to the door, a soft voice spoke up from behind him.
"What are you doing here?"
Badd jolted, body freezing in shock. That, was definitely not a male voice.
"You obviously don't go to school here. What are you doing?"
Badd felt the sweat start to bead around his collar. He can't believe they've been caught already.
Turning slowly, he met the accusatory gaze of the young girl standing behind him. Clad in the grey Ato High school uniform, the dark-haired girl stared him down, arms crossed. Badd might have considered her to be pretty, if he wasn't so worried out of his mind.
"Um," he said, intelligently. "We're here to-" and here, Badd paused. He could, simply tell the truth, but aside from her finding him extremely creepy, there was the other more pressing issue that she simply wouldn't believe him. He was well aware that he looked intimidating enough for people to start making assumptions about him, and the other two didn't have any better. Trying to move as subtly as possible, Badd hid his bat behind his back.
Before Badd could bluster through some sort of cover up, the girl cut in sharply.
"You shouldn't be here, it’s dangerous," she says, crossing her arms. From where she was standing in the shade of the balcony, Badd could barely make out her features, but he just knew she was frowning.
"Dangerous?" Badd repeated, confused.
The girl nodded her head. "Didn't you hear about the monster that lurks here?"
Was she talking about the ghost? Badd wondered.
"You mean the haunting?" Badd questioned, eyebrow raising.
The girl nodded leaning forward a bit as if excited. It was still too dark to make out her features, and Badd could only hope she wouldn't be able to identify him either.
"I heard its even killed someone before! So, you have to go home!"
Badd blinked. He certainly didn't remember Garou or Genos mentioning that little tidbit of info. But it would make sense for the story to get even more blown out of proportion the closer to the source it is.
In any case, he wasn't going to argue with her. He didn't need any more reasons to get the fuck out of this place.
"Alright man, I’m gonna go tell my friends," Badd hesitated before turning back towards the gymnasium door. "Also, uh could you… not tell anyone you saw us here?"
The girl said nothing, continuing to watch him impassively. Eh, thought Badd, it was worth a try.
...
When Badd entered, he found that Garou and Genos had already convened down by the bleachers, Garou with his head in his hands, trying and failing not to look disappointed, and Genos not even attempting not to look bored.
"Guys," Badd called out as he swaggered in, "gig's up, its time to go."
Garou didn't even look up from where he had slumped over on the bench. "We're not leaving till we find something," he snapped.
Badd rolled his eyes. "Yeah, but someone caught us. Some girl saw me and told me to get the fuck outta here."
That caught attention. Both their heads swivelled up to stare incredulously at him.
"There's someone here? At this hour?" questioned Genos, his face twisting into a grimace.
"Yeah man," said Badd, folding his arms. "Don't think she was gonna report us though. She seemed pretty weird."
"Obviously," Genos said, tone sharp. "What kind of normal person would be in school at this time of the night?"
"Nah, like, she seemed pretty worried about us?"
"Like, worried about reporting us?" asked Garou, tone flat with dread.
"No, like she really thought the fucking ghost was gonna eat us or some shit."
For a second, the both of them stared at Badd, before the implications of his words truly sunk in.
Garou leapt to his feet, bringing himself up to his full height, a renewed fire in his eyes.
"That’s amazing," he hissed out, his infamously manic grin already back on his face.
He strode past Badd towards the door, renewed jump in his step. "Where is she? I'm gonna go talk to her. Maybe she knows how to summon it."
"What?!" snapped Genos, stomping after him to grab the back of his shirt. "She told us to leave. I suggest we do what she says so we don't end up in even more trouble."
"Why?" asked Garou, twisting in Genos’ iron grip, grinning so hard he looked nearly shark-like. “We found someone who knows about the ghost! We need to get more info.”
Badd missed the rest of what Genos fired back with, instead throwing open the door and walking out. Outside, the courtyard was empty, the girl nowhere to be seen. Did she already go home? wondered Badd. At least she’d be spared from whatever Garou was going to try to wheedle from her.
Behind him, he heard plenty of shuffling and the sound of scraping metal, before Garou’s head popped up beside his own, and after a second, Genos’ popped up above his own. All three peered out into the empty courtyard, searching.
“You’d think,” piped up Garou, after a moment of wordless staring, “that if a bunch of weird guys turned up at your school to hunt a ghost, you’d at least stick around to see how it went.”
“Not everyone is as free as you,” said Genos, a little too venomously to imply that he’d escaped the scuffle unscathed.
“I thought you said we weren’t doing any hunting,” asked Badd, warily.
“We’re not,” protested Garou, clearly ignoring Genos, “but… If the opportunity arises…”
Genos clicked his tongue impatiently while Badd groaned out loud. Badd rolled his shoulder, shoving Garou and Genos away from where they had chosen to crowd around him at the doorway.
“Luckily for us then, there’s no ghost to hunt.”
“Yeah, lucky,” muttered Garou under his breath.
“Too lucky,” another voice commented, sarcastically.
Garou turned to Genos, annoyance rolling off of him in waves. “Do you ever stop rubbing it in?”
Genos’ eyes widened a fraction, his permanent scowl only growing more pronounced. “I didn’t say anything.”
“Then who the fuck-“ But the group didn’t get to hear the end of Garou’s tirade, as they turned to notice a figure standing in the middle of the gymnasium floor.
Badd slapped Genos’ arm in alarm, and Genos slapped Garou, and Garou slapped Genos back quickly as if any of them had missed the newcomer’s sudden arrival.
Tall and lanky, the figure stood stock still illuminated by the moonlight streaming in from the gymnasium’s high windows. Features completely indiscernible, it seemed nearly fuzzy around the edges as if they were peering at it through a frosted window. Although none of them made the identification out loud, all of them decided that the person was decidedly, not human.
They stood in awed, disbelieving silence for a full three seconds marveling at the apparition that, just minutes ago, was mere hearsay. Garou was trembling with either fear or excitement, Badd couldn’t tell, and approached the figure eagerly calling out as he went.
“HEY! Ghost, hey, just wanted to say, BIG fan here.”
The figure did not respond, instead, its form which seemed fuzzy at best, distorted even more the closer Garou got to it. It was starting to look like a badly rendered picture now.
Distantly Badd recalled the girl from before telling him how the ghost had caused at least one confirmed casualty, setting him with mild unease as his friend trawled ever closer to the thing.
“Dude, don’t go so close to it man,” he called out, stepping forward alongside Genos to reel Garou back.
“I doubt that that thing is safe to approach,” muttered Genos, hands clenching at his side. “I’m getting a high energy reading from it.”
As Garou turned to address his friends’ complaints, the figure behind him shuddered violently, and stopped all motion with a low beep, like a paused video.
At Badd’s frantic pointing, all of them watched as the ghost seemed to crack like an eggshell, expanding as if its previous form could contain it no longer.
“This is it? This is the ghost?” Badd asked, rather unnecessarily in Garou’s opinion, waving around his bat in the direction of the growling humanoid figure rapidly growing in size in front of them.
All three of them stood there, watching the monster swell and grow in front of them, its face ripping open to reveal rows and rows of razor-sharp teeth. Ever the one to fixate on a point completely irrelevant to the situation, Badd turns to Garou again.
“Garou… Do you really think this is hot?” questions Badd, a touch of concern in his voice.
Genos, never one to turn down the opportunity to be rude, says, “he’s always had questionable taste.”
Garou decided to grace neither of them with an answer. Truthfully, he had seen a monster on last week’s episode of Justice Man that looked pretty similar to this one. He had thought it looked pretty cool. He wisely decided upon keeping that tidbit of info to himself.
In front of them, the beast let out a terrible growl, the tremor from it sending pieces of plaster raining down from the ceiling.
“That, is definitely not a ghost,” concludes Genos decisively.
“Yeah?” asked Garou, sarcastically, “how’d you tell?”
“I am getting an analysis reading that determines it to be a ‘monster’,” informs Genos primly.
Both Garou and Badd were spared from answering as one of the monster’s hands shot out, causing them both to leap out the way to avoid it.
The monster was now large enough to block out the light from the windows, towering over the three teenagers. The monster’s cry was deafening, the very sound of its voice causing the window panes to tremble violently. “Little children!” it snarled, rearing itself up to its fullest height, head brushing the top of the gymnasium’s tall domed ceiling. “I will grind your bones and eat you whole!”
Garou nodded sagely at that. “Grinding bones is a very textbook level monster thing to do, I’m impressed.”
With dexterity uncommon to a thing of such size, it swung its arm down with surprising accuracy towards Badd, nearly flattening him, and obliterating the chaffed wooden floorboards beneath his feet. Narrowly avoiding the hit, Badd turned and smacked the offending massive hand with his bat. A dull thud rang out in the gymnasium, loud enough to still be discernible over the monster’s roars.
Behind the beast, they could hear Genos yelling something that could have been an inquiry as to their wellness, or just a plain insult. With Genos it could go either way, really. Badd’s hit seemed to cause some effect on the monster, as it snatched its hand back quickly, cradling it as if injured.
“Alright, just hitting it works!” called out Badd.
“Great,” answered Garou, sounding no less excited even as he flitted to the side to avoid another massive swing of the arm, “lets beat the shit out of it and take down this monster, Mystery Hunters!”
Even from different corners of the gymnasium, Garou could hear the other two groan.
“Fucking stop trying to call us that!”
“We are not calling ourselves that!”
The sound of the monster’s thrashings thankfully drowned out Garou’s bitter grumbles at their response. Ducking forward, he slid under an outstretched arm to deliver a few swift, powerful blows to the creature’s knee, causing it to roar loudly in pain and stumble back. All three of them converged on the creature, raining it with blows, confusing it with an onslaught of pain from all directions.
The moment of its lack of focus was all they needed. A low hissing hum filled the air before a blinding pillar of light shot out, blowing perfectly through the back of the monster’s head, and right through the ceiling. It took a while for Badd and Garou’s eyes to readjust to the dim light of the room after that incineration flash, but what awaited them made them wish halfheartedly that they never saw it.
Beyond the singed gaping hole in the now still monster’s head, was a clear view of the night sky, viewed through the giant, still smoking, gaping hole in the ceiling of the gymnasium.
“I thought you weren’t allowed to use that?!” called out Garou, over the din of hissing steam and crumbling debris.
Genos gave a non-committal grunt in response. “My mentor allowed the use of my incinerator cannons for dire occasions. This seemed like one of them.”
Badd gave an understanding grunt. Garou shook his head.
“We destroyed like, half this place!”
“Eh,” says Badd, shouldering his bat nonchalantly, “I don’t think its that bad.”
Just as those words were uttered, the winds outside picked up, causing the body of the huge, dead monster to sway, before it fell over with a ground shaking boom, taking out the entire back wall of the gymnasium.
The three of them could only stare in horrified awe at the shambled remains of what remained of the supposedly haunted room. Quietly, they turned to make their way back out of the school in total silence.
...
“So,” says Mr Saitama, rubbing his face for what had to be the fifth time in the last ten minutes, “you’re telling me that you destroyed an entire building, because you had to?”
“Yep,” says Badd taking care to pop the p.
“Yeah,” Garou agreed, shrugging.
Genos said nothing in response, instead staring down his knees with all the weary resolve of a samurai waiting for death.
Mr Saitama groaned loudly, leaning back in his chair. All three of them were sitting crowded around Mr Saitama‘s desk, after being called out of their classes. There were plenty of curious glances thrown their way from the other teachers bustling around their cubicles in the teacher’s office, the warming smell of freshly made coffee and early morning chatter contrasting oddly with the anguished expression on their homeroom teacher’s face. Unsurprisingly, the officials at Ato High had called the police after finding the carnage, who then checked the security tapes, and then somehow managed to identify them.
Perhaps the fact that this was not the first time they had been involved with the police for what Mr Saitama had coined as “various shenanigans”, had made them all the more easier to identify. Personally, Garou believed that the only reason the police found them so quickly was due to a biased belief that they were behind any and all teenager-based incidents. Of course, in this case they were right, but still.
Mr Saitama sighed dramatically, yet again. “Were you aware that the buildings in Ato High, including the one you destroyed, are all historical buildings?”
“No shit?” asked Badd.
“No shit,” repeated Mr Saitama, gravely.
“Aw c’mon man,” whined Garou, slouching in his hard-folding chair, “there was a monster there! You couldn’t just expect us to leave it there!”
“You aren’t supposed to be fighting monsters! That’s the Hero Association’s job! You’re just students! Also,” snapped Mr Saitama, hand slamming down on the table with a bang, “you’re supposed to call me Mr Saitama, not ‘man’!”
“It tried to eat us!” protested Garou.
“Then you should’ve run and called the authorities!”
Beside him Badd rolled his eyes. “As if they’d come in time,” he muttered darkly under his breath.
Saitama pressed his hand back to his face as if to calm himself. Badd wondered if he’d end up flattening his face by the end of this session.
“Why were you even in Ato High that night?”
“Ghost hunting,” answered Garou immediately.
“You,” started Mr Saitama slowly, “went to a girls school… At night… To look for ghosts?”
All three of them nodded.
Mr Saitama sighed, for the umpteenth time. “Should’ve known,” he mumbled softly.
Turning to the table, he shuffled his papers around nosily, seemingly deep in thought. As they fidgeted in their seats, Badd casting pointed glances to the clock, Mr Saitama finally paused in rearranging his table, setting out three identical forms.
Turning towards them, he leant forward, resting his chin on his clasped hands, looking the most serious he’d been since this meeting begun. Sandwiched uncomfortably between Badd and Genos, Garou squirmed uneasily under the intense stare.
“Anything else to say for yourselves?”
No answer.
Mr Saitama tried again, “Genos,” he said, singling out the only reputable student out of the three, “anything to say?”
“I,” blurted Genos, speaking for the first time since being called to the room, “was dragged into it by these two, Mr Saitama!”
Beside him, Garou scoffed. Badd narrowed his eyes, incredulous.
“You throwin’ us under the bus, Gen?”
Genos turned to him, gold eyes flashing. “I told you we shouldn’t have gone there!”
“Genos,” Mr Saitama cut in, voice weary, “it was your incinerator cannons that caused the blast wasn’t it? You’re the one on thinnest ice here, dude.”
Genos shut his mouth with an audible clack.
Under the stares of everyone at the table, he finally continued, “it was necessary to dispose of the monster, Mr Saitama. I was merely doing my job as a vigilant member of the community.”
Mr Saitama deadpanned him a look as if to say vigilant members of the community don’t break into schools at night but said nothing against it.
When Genos made no move to say anything more, Mr Saitama shook his head despairingly, handing out the forms.
“I want all three of you to fill out these. Its an apology letter, something I’m sure you three are already familiar with,” Mr Saitama said, eyeing them meaningfully, “five thousand words. No less.”
He went on, amid cries of protests from mostly Garou and Badd, “AND, one full month of detention.”
Garou choked on air. “One entire month of detention?!”
“You’re lucky they’re not suspending you.”
The three of them wilted, grumbling half hearted protests as they held tightly to their forms.
“Okay,” said Mr Saitama, waving them off, “get back to your classes you lot. I still need to call your guardians.”
The boys kicked off amidst groans and halfhearted apologies.
“I want those apologies on my desk tomorrow morning!” he called after them as the door to the office swung shut.
“Were you talking about Ato High? Ah, that brings back memories,” smiles Miss Fubuki, leaning over her desk divider to Mr Saitama’s desk.
“Hm, did you go to school there?” questions Mr Saitama, swatting her hand away as she reached to pluck the case files from the table.
“Oh yes,” replies Miss Fubuki, finally giving up and leaning back in her chair with a nostalgic smile. “I had a lot of fun there. Sadly though, we never had any camps because there used to be this terrible rumor that a monster lurked the halls at night.”
“Oh?” asked Mr Saitama, looking bored.
“Yes,” says Miss Fubuki, eyes unnaturally bright, “we all thought it was just nonsense, but one day, one of the girls in the year below me turned up missing. Everyone was so sure it was the monster that ate her.”
Mr Saitama gave a noncommittal grunt, fiddling with his fingers.
Miss Fubuki smiled knowingly. “You’re starting to feel really thankful that they came back safe, aren’t you?”
Mr Saitama sighed, sending her a rueful smile. “I’m starting to feel really thankful I never decided to teach there.”
...
“Do you know what the worst part is?” Garou asks, as they trudge back up the staircase back to their classroom, “we never did get to see the ghost.”
Genos shot him a withering glare. “That’s because there was no ghost. People just caught wind of the monster and started the rumor.”
Badd grunted in agreement, shoulders hunching as he thought about the scolding his mother was sure to dole out once he got home.
“By the way,” a familiar voice called out right as he reached the top step. “I wanted to thank you.”
Turning slowly, Badd met the smiling gaze of a girl standing a few steps behind him. Squinting, he recalled the girl’s black hair and grey uniform.
“Oh its you,” Badd said, sending her a lazy wave. After all that drama, he’d just about forgotten about the weird girl from the school. “What are you doin’ here?”
The girl’s smile widened, her brown eyes glittering with an emotion Badd couldn’t discern. “I came by to see you. I have to go really soon, but I wanted to let you know I’m thankful for what you did.”
Badd huffed. “You mean breaking one of your school’s buildings?”
“I meant killing that monster but…”
“Eh, was nothin’,” he muttered, strangely uncomfortable under her stare.
“Tell your friends I said thank you as well,” the girl said insistently, climbing another step up towards him.
Badd cocked an eyebrow. “Tell em yourself,” he said. Poking his head around the staircase landing, he was surprised to see Garou and Genos already standing still on the upper steps, staring down at him.
“Who are you talking to?” Genos asked, eyebrows furrowed.
“C’mere man,” Badd called, waving them over, “this kid wants to talk to you guys.”
Garou peeked his head over the side of the staircase railing, looking wholly confused.
“Who?” he asked, gold eyes flitting around.
Badd groaned, annoyed that they were choosing to be so blatantly rude. Turning around impatiently, he was met with a clear view of the empty stairwell, illuminated by the large windows. Confused, he ran down the steps, peering over the railings just like Garou to see where the girl had went.
Looking back up, he met the strangely concerned gazes of his two friends, peering at him with raised brows.
“Did Mr Saitama set you so much work that you already went crazy?” Garou asked, shaking his head.
“What,” Badd spluttered, face colouring in spite of himself. “Fuck off man, didn’t you hear me talking to her?”
“To who?” Genos questioned again, face pinching in exasperation. “We only heard you talking to yourself.”
Badd stared at him, mouth agape. His head whipped between his friends and down the stairwell, as if unsure who to believe.
“But I- But you-“ Badd stammered, feeling increasingly uncomfortable by the second.
Climbing back down, Garou snatched him up by the arm, half dragging him up the stairs.
“There, there,” he said, patting Badd’s back in a manner that was supposed to be consoling, but came out mildly condescending. “Let’s get you to class, and you can take a nap at your desk as usual.”
Genos sighed, positioning himself on Badd’s other side and gripping his shoulder with a bit too much force to be comforting. “Maybe after your usual illegal naps you’d feel better.”
Despite his own irritable protests, Badd allowed himself to be dragged off bodily to his classroom, secretly agreeing that maybe a good nap was exactly what he needs.
#opm#opm fanfiction#metal bat#badd#garou#genos#one punch man#this is disgustingly long and im sorry#i saw everyone's requests im just soooo slow at writing im sorry pls hang in there i love u all#i hope u r all staying safe in this difficult times now too
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Unusual Upbringing (Part 12)
Prompt: Imaging growing up with the Maximoffs and falling for Pietro
Word Count: 2310
Warning: language, poverty/despair/wartorn country, pain and violence, death, all aboard the angst train
Note: The events in this fic will take place before, during, and after Age of Ultron…Beta’d by literally the best person in the world @like-a-bag-of-potatoes
Tags: @amarvelouswritings @cocosierra94 @essie1876 @magpiegirl80 @letsgetfuckingsuperwholocked @harleyquinnandscarletwitch @iamwarrenspeace @marvel-imagines-yes-please @superwholocked527 @myparadise1982sand @missinstantgratification @thejulesworld @rda1989 @marvelloushamilton @munlis @thefridgeismybestie @bubblyanarocks3 @random-fluffy-pink-unicorn @hardcollectionworldtrash @igiveupicantthinkofausername @kaliforniacoastalteens
Unusual Upbringing: @ultrarebelheart @feelmyroarrrr @punkdoor @mrs-lancelot
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Steve informed everyone what their job was. Stark was to find Ultron and figure out what he was doing. Vision knew that he was going to Sokovia but no one was sure why. Everyone else needed to evacuate the city.
The ride over for you was tense. It scary. You weren’t sure what you were walking into. What you, Pietro, and Wanda were walking into. Any of you could be hurt...or worse. You were terrified, but you needed to do this, you had to do this.
Wanda used her powers to convince people inside to get out of their building. Pietro went into the police station to tell them to evacuate, the first time they didn’t listen so well, but when he ran back in and shot a few shots in the air, they started to listen. He was rather proud of himself, boasting about it when he met back up with you. You were unimpressed, or at least you led him to believe that. You loved his snark and wit, but right now, you had to focus. You teleported around the key points of the town, trying to get everyone away from the city.
Moments later, you heard and saw bots crawling and flying and walking everywhere. They were attacking the city as it started to fly.
“Oh, great,” you moaned.
“Time to see how fast these things are,” Pietro said. He ran through several bots hitting them. You nodded to Wanda. She began to fight them off, protecting people as you teleported around, setting fire to bots on your right and icing the ones on your left.
A few minutes into the fight, Steve came over the communication system. “Incoming already came in. Stark, you worry about bringing the city back down safely. The rest of us have one job: tear these things apart. You get hurt, hurt 'em back. You get killed, walk it off.”
You nodded your head to the side. “Easy enough.”
You appeared all over the city, fighting off whatever you could. “Anyone need help?” you offered as you vanished everywhere.
“Y/N, south side of the city, near a fountain,” Steve said into the comms.
“On it.” You appeared there and saw him and Thor trying to fight off a large horde. You stood and concentrated, letting the energy build in your hands before thrusting out fire from your right hand and shooting ice over the bots. You were tired, every muscle hurt, but you couldn’t give up. Your city, the world, they needed you. They needed all of you. Your new team, they needed you too. There would be no future with Pietro if you slowed down. There would be no future for anyone. You had to keep going.
“Good job, kid,” Steve congratulated over the comms as he kept moving.
You nodded and smiled at him, trying not to worry about Pietro and Wanda, but it was hard.
“All clear here,” Barton announced. You knew Wanda was with him.
“We are not clear here, we are very not clear,” Steve informed.
“Alright, coming to you.”
You knew Pietro would grab Wanda and bring them to you. They finally joined you and you were able to keep up with the bots a little bit better. The local forces were firing away until Wanda and Pietro showed up and they ordered to “Hold your fire!” However, Piet was a little too fast, and a bullet grazed him.
“Pietro, you okay?” you asked as you teleported next to him to examine arm.
“I’m fine, my dove. I’m fine,” he promised as he grinned at you. “You know, you don’t have to worry over me all the time.”
“If I don’t who will?” you said with a grin.
Both of you still got back to fighting. Finally, the wave of bots slowed and you took a breath.
“Are you alright, princess?” Pietro asked as you leaned over.
You nodded. “Yeah, just a lot of work killing robots,” you joked. “You? Are you okay?”
“Little winded but when has that ever stopped me from going another round?” he asked with a coy smile. You laughed and grinned at him while you listened to the team.
“The next wave's gonna hit any minute. What have you got, Stark?” Steve asked.
“Well, nothing great. Maybe a way to blow up the city. That'll keep it from impacting the surface if you guys can get clear.”
“I asked for a solution, not an escape plan.”
Stark informed, Impact radius is getting bigger every second. We're going to have to make a choice.”
You and Pietro looked at each other and took each other’s hands. You knew this was a desperate decision. You knew the Avengers would get the civilians off someway, and whoever was left...well...being a hero was never easy.
Suddenly a man’s voice came over the communication system that you’d never heard.
“Glad you like the view, Romanoff. It's about to get better.”
A giant boat-plane showed up and you felt some wave of relief.
“Nice, right? I pulled her out of mothballs with a couple of old friends. She's dusty, but she'll do.”
“Fury, you son of a bitch,” Steve said as he looked ahead with a grin.
“Oooh! You kiss your mother with that mouth?” he teased, making you smirk. You could see how this team was good, despite what you had thought all your life.
“This is SHIELD?” Pietro asked beside you as he kept your hand in his.
“This is what SHIELD is supposed to be,” Steve informed proudly.
You and Pietro glanced at each other before grinning.
“This is not so bad,” he stated.
“I could get used to a rescue mission,” you agreed.
“Okay everyone, let’s load these up.”
The others either guided civilians or went to get them while you popped around the city, making sure everyone was out of hiding spots. You made sure to escort or show people where they needed to go, trying to teleport deep within buildings and tried to listen for cries of help or anyone else.
“Avengers, time to work for a living. Meet at the church,” Stark ordered.
You teleported there, joining Thor, Vision, Stark, and Pietro and Wanda running and flying right behind you. Eventually, everyone made it to the church, surrounding the core.
“Here’s the drill. If Ultron gets a hand on the core, we lose,” Stark informed, pointing to the core.
“Is that the best you can do?” Thor challenged.
Ultron summoned his army of angry bots and Steve turned to Thor and said, “You had to ask.”
You wanted to laugh at them, at their banter, at the friendship, but when you were facing imminent death, it was hard.
“This is the best I can do. This is exactly what I wanted. All of you, against all of me. How could you possibly hope to stop me?” Ultron asked.
Stark answered him, “Well, like the old man said. Together.”
At Ultron’s command, the bots began to attack you all to try and get to the core. You wanted to teleport to get more bots but you were afraid to lose your post at the core, giving a robot an in, so you stayed put, focusing your efforts on burning or freezing the bots.
Vision, Stark, and Thor had Ultron on his knees outside, giving them everything they had when you decided to join them. You pushed forth your power hard and heavy, giving it everything you had. You hadn’t pushed your powers this hard yet, and it was draining you.
Finally, a mangled Ultron stood. “You know, with the benefit of hindsight--” But Hulk ran up and punched him away. You grinned up at him, nodding to him your approval.
“Fine work out there,” Thor said as he clapped his enormous hand on your shoulder, making you gasp from pain.
“Thanks,” you said with a smile as you went back inside the church.
“They’re trying to leave the city,” Thor informed.
“We can’t let them. Not one. Rhodey,” Stark said, ordering his other friend to take them out. Meanwhile, Vision joined him, attacking the flying robots.
“We gotta move out. Even I can tell the air is getting thin. You guys get to the boats, I'll sweep for stragglers, be right behind you,” Steve said.
“What about the core?” Barton asked as he started to step away.
“We’ll protect it,” you informed, sure of yourself.
“It's our job,” Wanda assured.
“Get the people on the boats,” Wanda ordered Pietro.
“I'm not going to leave you two here,” he said, his worried eyes dancing between you. You knew how he felt. You didn’t want him to go either. When the stakes were so close. Stark and Thor might be left with no choice but to hit that core, killing you both if he didn’t get back to you fast enough.
“We can handle this,” she promised as a bot approached and you two hit it with your powers, vaporizing it. “Come back for us when everyone else is off, not before,” she ordered.
Pietro shook his head slightly as he started to walk away. “Hmm,” he noted.
“You understand?” Wanda asked.
“You know, I'm twelve minutes older than you,” Pietro reminded as he always did when he wanted his way.
She chuckled before saying, “Go.”
Pietro walked over to you. “I will be back for you, my flower. I promise. Okay? I love you. Keep this core protected and we can leave sooner. Alright?”
“Alright,” you said, nodding, a pit of fear and dread pooling in your stomach. He was about to leave. Anything could happen to you or Wanda or him. You didn’t want to be away from him.
“I have to go. I have to get the people,” he said before kissing you sweetly, you treasured the taste and feeling, locking it in your mind so you could get through this fight. “I love you. I will see you soon, yeah?”
“Yeah. See you soon. I love you.”
He gave you his star studded smile and dashed off. You and Wanda were still fighting off straggling robots that were coming in while the Avengers discussed their plan over the comms.
“So when is the date?” Wanda asked as she blasted a robot.
“For what?” you wondered.
“The wedding. I’m going to be your maid of honor, I’m going to tell you that right now.”
You laughed. “If we make it through. I want something summery.”
“That will be pretty,” she said as she grinned while you threw fire at a bot.
“I hope so. Can you imagine Pietro in a suit?” you asked with a laugh, trying to envision your wedding day.
She nodded and smirked right before her face turned to horror and she cried out.
“Wanda?! Wanda, what is--”
In an instant, you knew. You’d lived with them for twelve years now. You knew both of them like the back of your hand. Only one thing would make Wanda react that way.
In the blink of an eye, again, your everything was taken away from you. Your entire world -- gone.
“No...No...No…” you said, almost as a curse.
Wanda was still falling to her knees, crying, as you teleported away to find him.
“Piet?” you said gently as you approached his form lying on the ground. Getting closer you saw all the blood, the bullet holes. “No!” you screamed as you fell beside him. Some say one can literally feel their heartbreak when they lose someone. That must’ve been what happened in your chest just then because you couldn’t breathe or think. All you could do...was feel pain. Ocean waves of pain.
You looked to see what happened. You looked up and saw Barton and a boy. Barton had been hit, but not fatally. You realized what Pietro must’ve done and you started to weep. You couldn’t help it. You knew you needed to be helping the Avengers...but how could you? How could you fight for the world when yours was just taken away?
“Pietro, no,” you sobbed as you held him. His eyes were no longer full of light and mischief as you stared into them. This couldn’t be real. It couldn’t be happening. Not again. You couldn’t lose him. This had to be a nightmare. “Come back to me. I’m your river, remember?” you cried. “You’re the ocean. I will always come to you. Always,” you vowed as you cried harder and held him in your arms.
“Y/N,” Barton said softly as he came over and crouched next to you. “I’m so sorry, kid. We have to get you two to a boat though.”
“No,” you said, feeling your heart turn from heartache to rage. “Get Pietro on a boat. I’m coming for Ultron.”
You placed a kiss to Pietro’s lips and stood. Barton stared after you, unsure of what you were going to do. You teleported away to the core, Wanda was gone, she must’ve gone to look for Ultron just as you had. Ultron wasn’t the only one here though. His minions were still here.
You opened fire on every bot nearby, unleashing a power even you had yet to witness. A fire and ice storm brewed out of you as you slaughtered any bot nearby. You let the rage and bitterness from your broken heart fuel and steer your power.
You must’ve missed one in the rampage though, because a bot was able to get up to the key and turn it, causing the city to drop. You lost your footing and started to float as the city began going full force towards the globe.
You let it take you though. You were ready to go. Pietro was gone. You had nothing left to live for now. Now...you just wanted to be with Pietro.
#unusual upbringing#pietro maximoff x reader#pietro x reader#pietro fic#pietro#pietro maximoff fic#pietro maximoff
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