Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Scott Summers, also known as Cyclops, never expected to find a strange, sentient whipped-cream-like creature one night while on a walk. It didn't look dangerous, and it seemed to have nowhere to go. So, naturally, he decided to take care of it. Naming it Alcremie—since that was the only word it ever said—Scott grew attached to the odd little being, completely unaware of what it truly was.

It wasn’t weird. It was just… basic responsibility. That’s what leaders do.

That’s what he kept telling himself, anyway.

The sun had barely risen over the Xavier Institute, casting a warm glow through the kitchen windows. While most of the mansion’s residents were still waking up, Scott Summers was already up and about, sitting comfortably on the couch with his tiny, whipped-cream companion cradled in his arms.

“Who’s my little sweetie?” he cooed, gently swaying Alcremie side to side. “You are! Yes, you are! You’re my best girl, aren’t you?”

Alcremie happily wiggled in his grasp. “Alcremie~!”

Scott chuckled, his voice soft with affection. Carefully, he tilted a small bottle of soy milk toward her, holding it as she took tiny, happy sips.

“Gotta make sure my little cream puff gets all her nutrients,” he murmured. “You’re so good, drinking your milk like a big girl. Who’s my best girl? You are! You’re the bestest, cutest, most adorable little—”

Ah-hem.

Scott froze.

A familiar presence entered the room—calm, composed, and, to Scott’s horror, amused.

“Scott,” came Professor Xavier’s smooth voice, “I must say, I’ve always admired your sense of responsibility. But I never knew you had such fatherly instincts.”

Scott’s entire body tensed. Slowly, very slowly, he turned to see Professor X sitting in his wheelchair, a knowing smile playing on his lips.

The professor had been there. Watching. Listening.

Scott swallowed. “I, uh—Professor, I wasn’t—”

Xavier simply chuckled, his expression unreadable but his eyes twinkling with unmistakable amusement.

“Relax, Scott. I think it’s rather sweet.”

Scott, flustered beyond words, cleared his throat and quickly sat up straighter. “I was just… making sure she’s healthy,” he said in a much more ‘serious leader’ tone, as if that somehow erased the baby talk he had just been doing.

Professor X nodded. “Of course. A child—or a sentient baker batter creature, in this case—does need proper care and affection.” He tilted his head. “And you seem to be doing an excellent job.”

Scott felt his face heat up. “It’s not— I mean, I just—”

Xavier’s small smile widened slightly. “You’re a natural, Scott. If this is how you take care of a little one, I have no doubt you’ll make an excellent father someday.”

Scott nearly choked on air. “What?!”

Alcremie, oblivious to Scott’s embarrassment, happily nuzzled into his chest and chirped, “Alcremie~!”

Scott groaned and buried his face in his free hand.

The professor, now thoroughly entertained, gave him a reassuring pat on the shoulder before rolling away.

“Enjoy your morning, Scott.”

Scott let out a long sigh, rubbing his temples. “Great. Just great.”

Then he looked down at Alcremie, who gazed up at him with bright, trusting eyes.

Despite his flustered state, a fond smile crept onto his lips. “…Yeah, okay. Maybe I am a little attached.”

Alcremie cooed and snuggled against him.

Scott sighed again, but this time, it was full of reluctant warmth.

Maybe being a ‘dad’ wasn’t so bad.

Chapter Text

It had happened again.

The mansion was peaceful. Tranquil. No explosions, no mutant crises, no Jean making him question his life choices. Scott had been enjoying a rare moment of calm—until he heard it.

A high-pitched, miserable wail echoing through the halls.

Scott’s heart stopped. Then, rage ignited. Because he knew that cry. He knew exactly who had made her cry.

Bursting through the living room doors like an avenging angel of doom, Scott found exactly what he expected:
Logan. Looking extremely uncomfortable. And in his arms? A very distraught Alcremie, sobbing her little heart out.

Scott’s fury flared. “WHAT DID YOU DO?!”

Logan snapped his head up like a guilty man caught red-handed. “I DIDN’T DO NOTHIN’!” he barked, looking completely out of his depth. He awkwardly rocked Alcremie, clearly desperate for her to stop before Scott actually murdered him. “C’mon, kid, stop yer bawlin’—look, I ain’t that bad, am I?”

Alcremie only cried harder. “Alcremieee!!”

Scott was livid. He stormed over, snatching his precious cream puff from Logan’s grasp. “That’s IT. You are NOT allowed near my daughter anymore!”

Logan threw his hands up. “She ain’t your kid!”

Scott cradled Alcremie protectively, glaring at him with all the rage of a man who had had enough. “Then why do I FEEL like a single parent every time you’re around?!”

Logan groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “Listen, I don’t know why she always cries around me! Maybe it’s my face, maybe it’s my scent—hell, maybe I remind her of a damn oven or somethin’! I don’t know!”

Scott gasped. “Oh my God, you’re right!” He turned to Alcremie, horrified. “He smells like burnt things!”

Alcremie sniffled. “A… Alcremie…”

Logan groaned. “For cryin’ out loud—”

“No, YOU’VE done enough crying out loud,” Scott snapped, rocking Alcremie soothingly. “Shh, it’s okay, sweetie. Daddy’s here. No more scary, stinky Wolvie.”

Alcremie nuzzled into his chest, her sobs quieting.

Scott shot Logan a look. “See? She just needed a responsible adult.”

Logan gave him a deadpan glare. “Yer insufferable.”

Scott smirked. “And you’re banned.”

Logan threw his arms in the air. “That’s it. I’m goin’ to the bar.”

Scott cuddled Alcremie closer as Logan stomped out. “Don’t come back until you learn how to behave around my daughter.”

Logan flipped him off on the way out.

Alcremie giggled.

Scott beamed. “That’s my girl.”

Chapter Text

It was a normal day at the Xavier Institute. Peaceful. Too peaceful. Scott had learned to be very wary of peaceful days.

And sure enough, a horrified scream ripped through the halls. It was Alcremie’s voice.

Scott’s heart stopped. His visor gleamed menacingly.

“KITTY!” he roared, instantly knowing who the culprit was.

He sprinted into the kitchen, bursting through the doors with all the fury of a father bear protecting his cub. And there she was—Kitty Pryde, bouncing excitedly with terrifying hearts in her eyes, holding a very distressed, very flailing Alcremie in her hands.

“OMG, SCOTT, SHE’S JUST SO CUTE!!” Kitty squealed, squeezing Alcremie like a plush toy. “She’s like a little marshmallow! No—like a living cupcake!! I LOVE HER SO MUCH!!”

Alcremie, in absolute terror, wailed. “Alcremieeeee!”

Scott saw red. More than he usually does.

“PUT. HER. DOWN.” His voice was so sharp it could have sliced through adamantium.

Kitty pouted. “But I love her!”

Scott’s visor flared. “KITTY, SHE DOESN’T LOVE THIS!!”

Reluctantly, Kitty phased her hands through Alcremie, letting the terrified creature slip right into Scott’s arms. The moment she did, Alcremie clung to his chest, trembling like a whipped-cream chihuahua.

Scott glared daggers. “You’re on thin ice.”

Kitty crossed her arms. “Oh, come on, Scott! She’s, like, the most adorable thing ever! I just wanna squeeze her forever!”

Scott held Alcremie protectively. “SHE’S NOT A STUFFED ANIMAL, KITTY!”

Then, suddenly— A new horror entered the kitchen.

Kitty clapped her hands together. “Oh! I made pancakes!”

Scott turned to the plate—and immediately recoiled in horror.

The pancakes were a crime. They were charred. They were lumpy. They looked like they had witnessed unspeakable horrors.

And worst of all? They were pink.

“...What is in that?” Scott asked, already knowing he didn’t want the answer.

Kitty beamed. “Oh! I just mixed in, like, a bunch of strawberries and whipped cream so they’d be extra sweet! But they kinda turned into a mushy paste before I cooked them, and I think I might’ve set the heat too high, and—”

She kept talking. But Scott wasn’t listening anymore.

Because Alcremie had just looked at the pancakes. Her eyes widened in pure horror.

Scott gasped. His hands flew over Alcremie’s eyes.

“KITTY, YOU MADE A MEAL OUT OF HER COUSINS!!”

Kitty blinked. “...What?”

Scott whirled on her. “YOU MADE STRAWBERRY PANCAKES IN FRONT OF A STRAWBERRY-THEMED CREAM PUFF!!”

Kitty blinked again. “...Wait. You think she’s, like… part cake?”

Scott huffed. “I don’t know what she is! But I know she’s traumatized!!”

Alcremie whimpered, burying herself in Scott’s sweater.

Kitty gave her a guilty look. “Aw, poor baby… I didn’t mean to scare her…”

Scott scowled. “That’s it. You’re banned.”

Kitty gasped. “WHAT?!”

“You and Logan are now part of the Alcremie No-Touch List!”

Kitty dramatically fell to her knees. “NOOOOO!!”

Scott turned away, rubbing soothing circles on Alcremie’s back. “It’s okay, sweetheart. No more scary Kitty. Daddy’s got you.”

Alcremie sniffled and nuzzled into him.

Scott shot Kitty one last glare. “From now on, you stay ten feet away from her at all times.”

Kitty pouted. “This is, like, so unfair.”

Scott ignored her and walked off, carrying Alcremie like a knight rescuing a princess.

Kitty crossed her arms. “Well, whatever. She’ll love me eventually.”

Chapter Text

Scott had two missions today: Groceries. And keeping Alcremie safe from the horrors of the outside world.

She was snuggled in his arms as he walked through the store, happily humming her little “Alcremie!” song while clinging to his jacket. She was precious, and he wasn’t letting anyone so much as breathe near her.

Then, in the produce section, Scott saw him.

Lance Alvers. His rival. The worst. The enemy.

Scott narrowed his eyes. Was the Brotherhood up to something? Was Lance scheming?

Then he saw what Lance was holding.

A tiny, sleepy-looking pastel-blue creature with a round head and stubby little ears sat perched on Lance’s shoulder, clinging to his jacket with its tiny paws. It yawned and snuggled closer to him.

Scott stared.

Lance also stared.

For a long, awkward moment, they both stood there, in the middle of the grocery store, holding their tiny pastel-colored creatures like two confused dads who just ran into each other at daycare.

Finally, Scott found his voice.

“…What the hell is that?”

Lance frowned. “Uh… I dunno. I was kinda hoping you knew.”

Scott scoffed. “Seriously? You’re just carrying around some random creature and don’t even know what it is?”

Lance gestured to Alcremie. “Oh, and you do?”

Scott opened his mouth—then paused. Okay, fair point.

Alcremie chirped, “Alcremie!” as if proudly stating her case.

The blue creature on Lance’s shoulder made a tiny “Tenna…” sound in return.

Scott and Lance exchanged glances.

“…So, uh,” Lance started. “How’d you end up with yours?”

Scott sighed. “She just kinda… showed up at the mansion. No idea what she is, but she’s mine now.” He held her protectively. “She’s basically my daughter.”

Lance snorted. “Pfft. Lame.”

Scott glared. “Oh? And what’s your excuse?”

Lance rubbed the back of his head. “I dunno, man. This little one was sittin’ outside the Brotherhood house one night, all alone. She looked… sad. And I don’t do great with sad things, so I figured, y’know. Whatever.” He shrugged. “She’s kinda chill. Likes quiet places. Follows me around. It’s fine.”

Scott crossed his arms. “So what you’re saying is… you’re also a dad now.”

Lance’s eye twitched. “No.”

Scott smirked. “You so are.”

Lance scowled. “Shut up.”

Scott just grinned wider.

Alcremie and Hatenna tilted their heads at each other before happily chirping their names in greeting.

Scott sighed dramatically. “Wow. Guess we’re stuck with each other.”

Lance groaned. “I hate this.”

Scott smirked. “Get used to it.”

As they begrudgingly continued shopping together—because neither wanted to admit they were actually enjoying the conversation—their two little Pokémon happily cooed at each other, completely unaware that their dads were huge dorks.

Chapter Text

Scott had officially given up on having a normal life.

First, he had Alcremie. His sweet little whipped-cream gremlin, who clung to him 24/7 and needed constant protection from Kitty’s obsessive cuddles and Logan’s terrifying aura.

And now?

Now he had something called a Ralts. She had just shown up at the mansion one day. Tiny. Lost. Shy. And the second she saw Scott, she trudged right up to him and clung to his leg like a baby duck imprinting on its mom. And, because Scott’s life was a joke, she immediately formed a psychic bond with him.

“Hello, Father.”

Scott nearly had a heart attack.

Meanwhile, Jean was not handling it well.

She grumbled, arms crossed as she watched Scott in the rec room.

He was currently sitting on the couch with Alcremie curled up in his lap, while Ralts sat on his shoulder, humming happily.

Jean narrowed her eyes. That was her shoulder spot.

Kurt, who was lounging upside-down on the armchair, snickered. “Looks like you’re jealous, fraulein.”

Jean scoffed. “Pfft. No. I just—ugh!” She ran a hand through her hair. “Scott and I are supposed to have a special thing with the whole telepathy stuff! And now he’s got her in his head?? That’s our thing!”

Kurt chuckled. “Better get used to sharing.”

Jean groaned dramatically and flopped onto the couch.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the room, Scott was deep in a very serious telepathic conversation.

“Father,” Ralts spoke into his mind, “why is the blue fuzzy one upside-down?”

Scott sighed. “I ask myself that every day.”

Ralts hummed. “And the red-haired one? She is staring at you intently.”

Scott winced. “Yeah. Uh. She’s probably mad.”

Ralts tilted her head. “Did you do something wrong?”

“I have no idea.”

Meanwhile, Alcremie let out a happy “Alcremie!” and nuzzled against his chest.

Scott sighed, rubbing his temples.

His life was so weird.

Chapter Text

Scott had accepted his fate.

He was a dad now.

Not to actual human kids, but to three tiny gremlins that had somehow adopted him.

First, there was Alcremie—sweet, clingy, and violently protective over him when it came to breakfast-related injustices.

Then, Ralts—quiet, telepathic, and permanently glued to his shoulder like a tiny psychic parrot.

And now?

Now he had Toxel.

The little purple lizard had been abandoned outside the mansion gates, shivering in the cold rain. And because Scott couldn’t just leave him there, he picked him up and brought him inside.

That was his first mistake.

The second mistake? Underestimating just how much of a menace Toxel was.

This little dude loved chaos. Within an hour, he had shocked Logan three times, short-circuited the TV, and somehow launched himself onto the top of the fridge.

Scott was losing his mind.

Evan, however, was having way too much fun watching all this.

“So, uh,” he grinned, leaning against the counter. “You finally got a son, huh?”

Scott, who was currently trying to pry Toxel off the fridge, groaned. “I do not have a son.”

Alcremie and Ralts, who had been quietly observing, suddenly let out very loud protest noises.

“Alcremie!”

“Father, what is that supposed to mean?”

Scott froze. Oh no.

Evan, who was way too entertained by this, snickered. “Ooooh, busted.”

Scott turned to his two daughters, who were clearly offended.

“Wait—no, I didn’t mean it like that! You’re all my—”

Before he could finish, Alcremie dramatically turned away with a huff, while Ralts teleported off his shoulder to sulk.

Scott groaned and rubbed his temples. “Oh my God.”

Evan laughed. “Good luck, Dad.”

Meanwhile, Toxel let out a happy “Toooox!” before zapping Scott’s hand for the fifth time that day.

Scott clenched his teeth. He was never getting a normal life back, was he?

Chapter Text

It was a nice morning at the X-Mansion.

Scott was enjoying a rare moment of peace, sitting on the couch with Alcremie curled up on his lap, Ralts perched on his shoulder, and Toxel sitting on the armrest.

It was calm. It was quiet. It was—

“@$#%!”

Scott choked on air.

Slowly, he turned to Toxel, who was just sitting there, swinging his little legs, looking way too casual for what he had just said.

Alcremie gasped dramatically.

Ralts let out a scandalized “Father, I believe we must wash his mouth out with soap.”

Scott, still recovering from the shock, finally managed to find his voice.

“TOXEL!” He gaped at him. “Where the hell did you learn that word, young man?!”

Toxel just grinned his tiny, mischievous lizard grin. “Toooox!”

Scott’s eye twitched.

Oh, he knew exactly where this little menace picked it up.

Five minutes later, Scott stormed into the living room, where Logan was casually drinking his morning coffee.

“LOGAN!”

Logan barely glanced up. “What.”

Scott, holding Toxel like a furious dad ready to lecture his kid’s bad influence, pointed aggressively.

“TELL ME,” he demanded, “WHY MY SON JUST SAID—”

He cut himself off, glancing at Toxel before whispering the offending word.

Logan smirked. “Hah. Kid’s got a good vocabulary.”

Scott looked ready to explode. “DON’T ENCOURAGE HIM!”

Logan took a sip of coffee. “Not my fault you adopted a sponge.”

Toxel, completely unbothered, happily chirped. “@$#%!”

Scott gasped. “TOXEL, NO!”

Alcremie shrieked in horror.

Ralts solemnly shook her head. “He is too far gone, Father.”

Meanwhile, Logan just laughed his ass off.

Scott was never going to survive this.

Chapter Text

The mansion was quiet. For once.

After a long day of chasing Toxel off the fridge (again), stopping Alcremie from declaring war on Kitty’s cooking, and calming Ralts after she had an existential crisis over her reflection, Scott finally had a moment to breathe.

And, surprisingly, so did Toxel.

Instead of his usual chaos, the little guy was calm tonight.

Scott sat on the back porch, holding Toxel in his arms, watching the stars. The tiny lizard was curled against his chest, letting out soft, content purrs.

Scott smiled a little.

“You know, buddy,” he murmured, “it’s not easy, looking after these girls.”

Toxel blinked up at him. “Tox?”

Scott chuckled, gently rubbing his head. “Yeah. You, uh…you kinda got lucky, you know?”

Toxel tilted his head.

“You’re the only boy,” Scott explained. “For now, at least.” He sighed, looking up at the sky. “That means you’ve got a job to do.”

Toxel blinked.

Scott smiled down at him. “You gotta look after your sisters.”

Toxel chirped.

“I mean it,” Scott said softly. “Alcremie’s sweet, but she’s got no idea how dangerous the world is. Ralts? She’s strong, but she’s still figuring things out.” He sighed. “They both need you, buddy.”

Toxel was quiet for a moment. Then, with a determined little chirp, he nodded. “Tox!”

Scott chuckled, gently nudging his tiny head. “That’s my boy.”

Toxel let out a happy purr, snuggling deeper into Scott’s chest.

And for the first time in a long time, Scott Summers felt…at peace.

Chapter Text

It started as a simple, quiet moment between Scott and Ralts.

One evening, while the rest of the X-Men were busy with their own activities, Scott was spending time in the mansion’s training room with his little Psychic daughter. The speakers played a soft classical tune—something calming that Ralts seemed to enjoy.

Then, Scott—on a whim—offered her his hand.

“Wanna dance, kiddo?”

Ralts chirped happily and took it.

And so, Scott Summers, field leader of the X-Men, battle-hardened strategist, and no-nonsense tough guy, gently twirled his tiny Pokémon daughter in a simple ballet routine.

They weren’t professionals, but Ralts moved with natural grace as Scott guided her through spins, dips, and twirls. At one point, he lifted her gently into the air before carefully lowering her back down, and Ralts let out a delighted trill.

Then, mid-spin, it happened.

A soft glow surrounded Ralts, making Scott instinctively take a step back. The glow grew brighter, swirling around her form as she expanded, her shape shifting and changing before his very eyes.

By the time the light faded, Ralts was gone.

Her small body was now taller, her dress-like lower half more pronounced. She blinked up at Scott with bright red eyes, as if unsure of what had just happened herself. And every time she spoke, instead of her usual "Ralts", it was a soft “Kirlia.”

Scott stared for a long second before his expression softened. He crouched down and patted her head.

“You’re still my Ralts,” he said simply. “Just… all grown up.”

Kirlia let out a joyful, melodious cry and hugged him tightly.

The moment was ruined when the other X-Men, who had definitely been eavesdropping, burst into the room.

“What just happened?!” Jean demanded, eyes wide.

“I… think she evolved,” Scott grinned a little bit as he carried his daughter in his arms.

Meanwhile, in the Brotherhood of Bayville Boarding House, things were normal. Or as normal as things ever got when Lance had three strange little creatures following him everywhere.

Bounsweet was happily bouncing around the living room, her usual cheerful self, while Dedenne napped in Lance’s hood and Hatenna sat quietly on his lap.

Then, it happened.

Bounsweet suddenly stopped mid-bounce, a soft glow surrounding her small round form. Lance barely had time to react before the glow exploded outward, making Toad yelp and dive for cover behind the couch.

When the light faded, Bounsweet was gone.

In her place stood a taller, more humanoid Pokémon with leafy pigtails, big eyes, and a skirt-like bottom. She blinked up at Lance with a cheerful little "Stee!"

Lance?

Lance screamed.

“WHAT THE HELL HAPPENED TO MY KID?!”

Steenee blinked in confusion before hopping excitedly toward him, arms outstretched, as if expecting a hug.

Lance backed up like she was a ghost. “No, no, no, you were this big like five seconds ago—what happened?! Who did this?! What does it mean?!”

The rest of the Brotherhood, attracted by Lance’s very loud freak-out, rushed into the room.

Pietro took one look at the confused Steenee and immediately wheeze-laughed. “Oh my God, you’re losing it over this, aren’t you?”

Toad peeked out from behind the couch. “Dude, I think she just, like… grew up?”

“Grew up?!” Lance pointed wildly. “SHE’S NOT EVEN SUPPOSED TO DO THAT! SHE WAS A FRUIT, AND NOW SHE HAS LEGS?!”

Blob smirked. “Awww, you upset that your baby’s growing up, Dad?”

Lance whirled on them, eyes twitching. “SAY ONE MORE WORD AND I WILL COLLAPSE THIS ENTIRE BUILDING ON ALL OF YOU.”

Instant silence.

Satisfied that his authority was still intact, Lance cautiously turned back to Steenee. She was still standing there, looking at him expectantly.

He let out a long sigh, rubbing a hand down his face. “…Okay. So you got taller. You got legs. You’re still you, right?”

Steenee let out a happy little trill and twirled, looking just as cheerful as ever.

Lance hesitated. Then, with a sigh of defeat, he muttered, “Fine. You’re still my kid.”

Steenee immediately hopped up and hugged him.

Lance sighed again—but this time, it was more fond than exasperated. “…Yeah, yeah. You’re still my kid.”

Behind him, the rest of the Brotherhood wisely kept their mouths shut.