#(for the record: i did try to correct him. but he kept insisting ''its not AAVE; it's internet slang'' and id be like ''yeah okay but where

[show-us-kaidenshenandoah]

trust me, i'm mixed but decidedly am nonetheless Not Black in said mix, and i know what person gets awkward "chuckles" and whose "childish" usage of language (mine) gets actual laughter

[starcharmed]

— MEMOIRS OF THE PAST

summary: leaving a topic behind to go check up on sunday worked out well in your favor.

cw: romantic sunday pairing, past romantic dan heng pairing, after 2.7 quest but nothing mentioned, reader is an astral express member, caelus as trailblazer, fluff with an undertone of hurt/comfort | wc: 2k+ | my secret santa gift for @milksnake-tea <3 please read the note at the end

The Express seemed to hum during its “nighttime”. The record Caelus set earlier this morning looping idly, the tune stitched into your memory. Pom-Pom had stopped sweeping around ten minutes ago, Himeko retired to her cabin, Welt had long gone to his own as well for a much-needed rest.

Dan Heng insisted that he assisted March in “helping Caelus decorate his room”. Not that you would raise an eyebrow at him for doing so, those two were bound to have everything turned upside down and on the ceiling if left alone.

Which left only one Express member left, Sunday.

In your opinion, he could rival Dan Heng in measures of silence. At first you weren’t sure if he simply disliked you, but after being around him for more than a month you soon realized he was just like that.

It’s not as if he was cold, though.

The first week he was on the Express, he brought everyone delicacies that he presumed would match everyone’s taste.

He was correct in his judgement.

You weren’t even sure how he had figured out that you loved deep-fried flying sea anemone — a dish you tried on Xianzhou when in need of a small energizer after all that went down — nonetheless how many toppings you liked to have with it.

You remember messaging Caelus after receiving the gift, questioning if he had played any part in it. The only response you had received was a Wubbaboo emoji.

Very helpful.

That was besides the point, however. 

Unlocking your phone with a click, you opened your messenger. You sent Dan Heng a simple “u up?” before scrolling through your contacts, bored and in need of someone to bother. 

The second Dan Heng responded, you tapped on the notification.

You ; 10:45pm     u up?

Dan Heng ; 10:47 pm    You should be asleep.

Of course….

You ; 10:47pm    so should you

You hit him with the Pom-Pom “Pay Attention”. That’ll get him.

Dan Heng ; 10:48pm    …    Sleep if you can.     If not go see what Sunday is up to, he’s been silent for a long while.

Dan Heng ; 10:49pm    March said she let him in her room to look at photos.    Try looking there first.

You ; 10:49pm     march is letting him go through her photos alone??     did see get possessed by some random heliobi somehow??

Dan Heng ; 10:49pm    As far as I’m aware, no.     He’s…processing a lot of things right now.     Especially ones about his past.     I know how that feels.

You bit down of your tongue harshly to stop the bitter laugh surfacing from your throat. You knew that. How could you not practically know everything about him considering you two were the only people on the Express besides Welt, Himeko, and Pom-Pom for a long time.

Maybe, maybe you were still irritated that Dan Heng had kept his secret from you after you both had “dated” off and on for a time of years. Leaving you to a not so fun surprise during your time in the Xianzhou Luofu. Iron filled your mouth and you let your facial muscles relax. Aeons…you needed to get a grip. What was done was done.

Your phone’s ding pulled you out from the mucky mess of the past.  

Dan Heng ; 10:50pm    Please check up on him. 

Cringing, you hesitated before sending a Pom-Pom emoji. Huffing you placed your phone down beside yourself, rolling your head to the side to stare at your cabin’s door. Ah, what the hell. All of that didn’t matter right now. Sunday.

It didn’t take you that long to find him, in March’s cabin. Sitting cross-legged and shuffling through photos, door ajar just enough that you could peek in without disturbing him. You assumed March let him in, she’s bubbly yet still wary when need be. 

After what went down Sunday certainly was a “need be”. 

Rapping your knuckles against the door, you watched as a photo album slipped from his grasp before he caught it between his forefinger and thumb. The only sign of him being startled. Turning his head, Sunday’s posture relax imperceptibly. 

“Sorry”, Slipping inside the cabin, you caught the door before it shut completely, “I should’ve been more noticeable, didn’t mean to startle you.”

“You didn’t startle me.” He was quick to retort, sparing you a second glance before focusing back on the picture.

“Right.” Easing over you crouched beside Sunday, noting the lack of his gloves and coat – two clothing items he almost never went without. Peering over his shoulder, the image of a smiling Robin with an excited March taking a selfie with her filled your vision. 

Oh. 

You hesitantly sat down, “I remember when that was taken, y’know? On the feldspar.” The addition after everything happened in Penacony died down on your tongue, you shouldn’t mention that. “March was so excited to finally snap a photo with her. She wouldn’t stop rambling about it all day.”

Sunday’s right wing twitched as he placed the photo back in its slot within the laced album, “That sounds like Miss March.”

A silence creeped back over the both of you, the Express’ humming becoming more prominent within your mind. The nagging feeling that you made an incorrect choice prodding along with the melody running on repeat inside your head. Perhaps you should have made the decision to leave him be. Maybe letting Dan Heng know that he was looking through photos would’ve been enough. 

His message became center stage in the circus of your mind. He’s processing a lot of things right now. That was understandable, and that was also the problem. You weren’t sure how to interact with Sunday without dragging him back in his murky mess of a past.

Like you did with yourself earlier.

But, then again, it’s not like you’ve done anything to make him feel outed, right? All you have to do is just leave and check back in with Dan Heng. And maybe you can catch a few hours of sleep. Just excuse yourself and head back to your cabin. 

“Well…” Standing up you raised your arms over your head, stretching until you could start to feel a slight burn, “If you don’t need anything I guess I can-”

“Wait!”

Time seemed to freeze as your eyes went wide, both of Sunday’s wings twitched violently, and the Express seemed to stop humming as if his shout momentarily stunned it. Lowering the hand he had extended in suddenness, Sunday cleared his throat. 

“I apologize. That was abrupt of me.” You swear you could see his eyes flickering between you and the wall, a moment of nervousness from Sunday caught for once in your eyes, “I was curious if you had any more stories about your travels to tell. I enjoy them.”

Feeling yourself becoming flustered, you started to ease back over to where he was sat. Perhaps your tendency to recall and talk about your journeys with the crew had gotten yourself a title as the second best storyteller within the crew.

You were never beating March for second. 

Point still stands. 

Although no one honestly asked you to retell stories unless no one else was present to do so. It might’ve been because you do so without honest flair or excess details that added a hint of humor to the mix. However, that could be your opinion of how you tell tales carrying over to your own thoughts. 

It was like he handed you the book for popcorn reading.

Sunday seemed to slide over, making room for him. A considerate action that wasn’t new. He often didn’t want to get in the way, even when he wasn’t. You can recall when he stood to the side when Pom-Pom was sweeping in a completely different area than him, as if he was trying to blend into the wall. 

Odd.

You reached for a photo in the album blindly, blinking thrice as you realized which one you had chosen. It was one from Xianzhou of all of your luck, one snapped in a hurry. It was on of you, Dan Heng, and Caelus in front of the Express. Caelus and you were mimicking Dan Heng’s newly-found horns (at the time) with your fingers before you all departed Xianzhou, March snapping the photo quickly before Dan Heng had started to stalk off the train.

That was a fun moment, despite all that had happened.

“That’s from the Xianzhou Luofu, correct?” Sunday questioned even though you could tell he already knew by the look within his eyes, “I’ve heard about what had happened there.”

You nodded. “It was a thing.”

A thing? Really?

“I never thought to ask what the story behind his form in these pictures was all about”, Sunday started, “Do you think you could tell me some about it?”

You take that previous statement back, he handed you a loaded gun.

The wince that slipped past your lips was sharp enough to sound like a whistle. With a click of your tongue, you started to put the photo back, “Well, I think you’d have to ask Dan Heng that yourself. He seems to have taken a liking to you so maybe you won’t get the sharp end of the sword.”

The statement was meant to be humorous, yet it came out as the complete opposite.

“It’s just something from his past. Everyone has one that nags them on this Express it seems, even someone as giddy as Caelus,” Closing the album, you reached for another one.

“Even you?”

“Unfortunately”, laughing you turned your face to look at him, “It’s not as deep as memory loss or being birthed from a literal nuke. Why? You surprised?”

“It’s hard to imagine you being chained down by memories and experiences of the past, you don’t let it seem to show.” You weren’t sure if you or Sunday had moved closer to one another.

In public you wanted to add, letting the two words melt on your tongue. 

“Yeah, well”, Scooting closer, your right knee bumped his left, “It’s different for everyone.”

“That it is.”

The humming of the Express seemed to become muted, as if you had submerged underneath the water.

Sunday was so pretty.

His hair framed over his wings perfectly, his eye color blending into his attire beautifully. Little things that he seemed to make stand out wonderfully.

“Do you and Dan Heng have quarrel?” Lifting his head, Sunday’s eyes locked onto your own, “I do not want to trouble you by mentioning the past if both of you have some together.”

“No, it’s just a…little thing.” 

Who started to lean in first?

“A little thing? You have a lot of those, hmm?” Sunday’s lips upturned slightly before they fell into their normal line, “Are you sure?” “You’re not getting in the way of anything, Sunny.” The nickname made his lips part, his honeyed breath being intook by your nostrils, “It’s fine, I swear.”

You could practically feel his hair against your face as he tried to close the distance, flinching back once his nose brushed against yours. Your fingers traced the outline of his jaw as he exhaled shakily, his lashes fluttering closed so delicately it was if a feather had fallen against the smooth water of his skin. 

Smooth lips met yours as soon as your own eyes closed.

You felt his hand sneak up to the nape of your neck, a gasp pushing past your lips at the skin-on-skin contact. Sunday must’ve felt as he did something incorrect, pulling back before you brought up your other hand, keeping him within the moment of the kiss.

The muffled humming started to become clearer as you pulled back to open your eyes. Sunday’s wings had come around to fit around his face, a pink creeping past the edges. 

And you let out a small laugh filled with nothing but joy.

Lowing his wings from his face, Sunday averted his gaze partially to the ground, “I suppose you should go back and try to sleep now.”

Although it was a statement, it carried more a questionable tone.

“Yeah”, you croaked out, nodding stiffly as you stood up. “You rest well if you can.” With a nod himself, Sunday started to study the pattern on another photo album. You practically speed-walked out of March’s cabin, heading to your own down the hall as your hand subconsciously raised to your lips.

Aeons were you glad you didn’t bring the past to the present with Dan Heng.

HI ILLU!! i hope you enjoy and this wasn't too ooc 😓😓 you've been such a huge inspiration and a major reason of why i'm so hooked on sunday as much as i am HAHAHA, i hope you have a very wonderful christmas and the rest of the year treats you right. thank you so much for being so wonderful and joyous to be around, i truly appreciate you 🫶🏽

[chocominnie]

Can you trust me? | knj

⇢ pairing: namjoon x reader (idol! Namjoon)

⇢ genre: Angst because Namjoon may or may not be an asshole about important things but also fluff because of sweet-talking

⇢ word count: 3k

⇢ warnings: Arguements but honestly thats it because the rest if fluff lmao.

⇢ Copyright:  please do NOT repost, translate, or modify my works in any way, shape or form, on any platform. If found doing so , it is considered as plagiarism and appropriate LEGAL action will be taken

⇢ Summary: Namjoon keeps making excuses of not meeting up with you and given that you guys have been having fall outs recently, things are about to be put on the line. Will you guys break up? Or will you stay together? Can you trust him..

You have reached the voice mailbox of-

You shake your head lightly as tears feel the brim of your eyes. This is the third time today. You knew that in this relationship with Namjoon would mean that he wouldn’t always have time for you. But for him to not even give you a quick text or just even answer his phone is absurd. You’ve been talking about this meet-up for the past two weeks. Although he is mostly busy majority of the times, a dinner for one night surely wouldn’t affect his schedule right?

Especially with all the things going on between you and him. This date tonight would of approached everything that has been happening. The arguments you guys have are just nerve wracking. Especially when he argued with you for being clumsy because you had spilled fruit juice in his studio.. on the wooden floor. You just didn’t get how it would be a big deal as it was not carpet so an easy clean up. At the end of the day, you guys knew how to get on each others bad side and that’s not good at all.

So here you are now, dressed  in an elegant black dress with that Swarovski crystal bracelet he gave you for your 1 year annivesary. Atleast, that’s when he actually gave a fuck about the relationship. Actually, you can’t even count the amount of excuses he’s made within the past months to not spend time with you. The last time it was because he was washing clothes and didn’t have any to wear right now. In which you had called bullshit because he has more clothes than anybody could ever.

Needless to say, you had ignored his calls and texts for two days to give him a piece of your mind. Namjoon wasn’t the type to over-react on such things so it wasn’t a win situation for you. Instead he sent you some of your favorite chocolates and flowers as an apology as you weren’t speaking to him. Yes, you gave in because who wouldn’t over the dozen of roses and Switzerland made chocolate?

This time is something different though.

The waitress returns with a bottle of champagne with a bucket of ice in her hands, and while she sets it down, you quickly wipe the stray tears away and force a smile. You didn’t even notice they were there before.

‘‘ It seems as though my significant other..” You take the napkin from your lap and throw it on the table. “ Will not be joining me today. I’m sorry to keep you waiting.”

The poor waitress had been waiting for you to order your food for an hour now. You’d kept insisting to wait because Namjoon would’ve been there any minute. Turns out you were very wrong.

She smiles softly, popping the cork off the bottle and pouring a glass for you.  ‘‘Shall I give you the bill then?’‘

As if you would be the one paying for this, when he had broke his promise for you. Broken promises are a thing you hated and he knew that. Putting this on his tab wouldn’t bother him with your petty little antics. The boy is a millionaire, something like this doesn’t even make a dent. Somehow though, you wanted to pay him back for not even showing up.

‘‘Put it on Kim Namjoon’s tab. He’ll be the one paying for this.’‘ You mumble to the young girl. The girl nods her head and pulls out the tab and hands it to you.

You sign your signature on it, and place a good thousand dollar tip on it. The feeling of satisfaction soothes you. He’d surely be paying for his time away, and wasting this waitress’ time. You hand it back to her, waiting for her reaction to the amount. Sure enough she doubled back to you when she realized how much was on the tab.

“ Ma’m? You added two extra zer-”

“ My date wasted your time love. He’s deeply sorry for it. Do something good with the money yeah?” As if the sinister smirk to yourself wasn’t enough, you quickly get up from the table and thank her again before heading to the exit.

The taste of the sweet yet tangy wine soothes the emotions flowing through you right now. Kim Namjoon. A guy who cancels dates a lot. A guy who does not keep his promise.

The only place you knew he would be at rather than his apartment would be at the BigHit building in his studio. He’s always there rather it be snowing or sunny outside he’s just.. there. It always astonishes you how one can just lock himself in a room for hours. What is it about him and doing that? Last time you paid a visit here Namjoon was eating the dinner he ordered in the room, instead of coming over to your house as he promised.

You punch in the code to the brand new building and a charming sound lets you know you may enter. You smile at the two security guards who give a slight smile then back to the blank expression towards the outside world.

Your heels click against the cold tile making your way over to the receptionist. The air smells fresh, as if someone had just cleaned the room again. The receptionist politely stands up quickly and greets you with a smile and a slight bow of her head.

“ Miss Yn, how may I assist you today?” Her eyes are warm and bright, along with her small smile at you. You wish you could feel happy in this current situation right now.  

“Is Namjoon in his studio again.”

‘‘ Yes Ma’m should I tell him that you are coming in?’‘ She says, smoothing her skirt out before sitting back down about to grab the phone.

You immediately shake your head no. Since he doesn’t like showing up and canceling dates he doesn’t need to know anything at all.

You force a fake smile upon yourself to please her. ‘‘No. It’s a surprise since we have not had the time to see each other in a while.’‘ Oh yes, a surpise it will be.

She nods her head, ‘‘ Yes ma’m. Have a nice night with him.’‘

You say your goodbyes to each other and you go your separate way down the hallway of studios. Each door standing out in it’s own way makes you smile.

Mang Gae Deok Room

Hope world

Golden Closet

Genius Lab

And finally, Mon Studio.

You fluff your hair a little bit before turning the corner to the secluded area. But something takes you by surprise, it makes you tense up. Eyes watering and a little whimper chokes out of you. So this is what he’s been doing. This is what he’s been up to for the past weeks.

Its as if almost you feel your heart stop beating for a mere second. As if the blood in your veins went cold. As if what you’re seeing right now is only your imagination but in reality it is not.

There he is, sitting in his chair while a female takes it upon herself to casually take a seat on his desk, smiling and laughing and all. The pain in your heart makes it hard for you to keep looking. Sure, you guys argue, but ditching plans to do whatever it is with a girl is a low blow. That’s all you can take. That’s all you can manage to see right before he turns to look at you in complete and utter shock. There is no stopping the flow of the tears coming down your warm cheeks.

You look down at the boxed up food you had bought him and the bottle of wine that you had taken then back up at the door. Raising the box in the air, you throw it against the window making the food splatter everywhere leaving a mess. The two inside jump at your actions, but you ignore them and just walk away with utter disbelief.

Foot steps and yelling are heard behind you but you don’t stop. You continue walking, but then speeding up your pace passing the receptionist, who is confused yet concerned, and pass the two security guards with no expression.

Running to the open, vacant elevator you quickly wipe your tears and repeatedly abuse the close button to keep Namjoon from joining you. The image of him you get just before the door closes, is him running attempting to get the elevator door to open. You make sure to make eye contact with him just so he can see your pain.

You sniffle heavily while hanging your head low walking to your apartment. You could understand if it was one of the boys in the recording room. It doesn’t look like a great situation, but the girl did seem comfortable enough with him to sit on his desk. So that only leads you to think about how long has she been around him. The thoughts barricade your mind and before you know it you are face to face with someone standing directly on your doormat.

You dont bother to look up already knowing that body structure. Instead you try and shove past him to unlock your home, but there’s no use because next thing you know you’re being held by your upper arms standing in-front of him.

‘‘ Namjoon I don’t want to fucking talk about it.’’ You grumble, shoveling yourself out his arms quick enough to unlock your apartment enough for you to slide through and slam shut.

Knocks are loud on your door to cause some neighbors to wonder. Let them wonder they can scold him themselves for causing so much of a scene.

‘‘ Yn im coming in.’‘ He yells through the door.

You roll your eyes and stand a few feet from the door with your arms crossed on your chest. The door gives a charm letting him know the pin-code was correct. He shuffles in lightly through the door and closes it gently behind him. You stand there waiting for his explanation as you slowly walk towards him.

‘‘ Yn-’‘

Smack!

It felt good for your hand to connect with his cheek. How dare he disrespect the relationship of you two like this?

Namjoon holds his now sore, red cheek and gives you a serious look, ‘’ That was unnecessary. Let me fuckin expl-’’

Smack!.

Your nose flared in and out as you breathe heavily with your eyebrows furrowed in anger. ‘’ Another woman Kim Namjoon? You didn’t show up to our date because you were doing god knows what with another woman?”

Namjoon bites his lip hard as his eyes narrow, ‘’ Stop fucking smacking me. Let me got damn explain you brat!’’ He yells, pushing you to against the wall.

Your strength towards him was no match. You try to run away but he pins you back onto the wall. You were useless at this point.

‘‘ What’s your problem! Calm down!’‘ He semi-yells, grabbing your face to  make you look at him. You look at him, you look him dead straight in the eyes with anger all over you.

‘‘ Shut up. Shut the fuck up Namjoon. I planned the date to talk about everything happening but you don’t show up? Instead you were chatting it up with another girl.” You pause, ripping your arms away from him. “ That’s not a good look for you.”

Namjoon steps back, scoffing in disbelief. That only pisses you off even more, but you decide that it had been enough smacking him for the night. ‘‘ I wasn’t cheating if you think that. You and I both know I wouldn’t do that, right?”

You glare at him, ‘’I don’t know you fucking tell me.’’

That one single sentence sets him off. Trust is something you two really try to have with each-other but lately that’s been all over the place. Questioning his loyalty to him is like a stab in the back with a sharp, piercing knife. Namjoon puts his hands on his head in shock while walking towards the kitchen. You follow him because the last thing he was going to do to you, is ignore the entire fucking conversation.

The silence is rough. You sit yourself down on one of the island chairs as you watch him pour himself a glass of wine. The one you had bought from the restaurant. The way his jaw locks with a serious pout on his face lets you know, he has some choice words to say. That sharp tongue is just holding it in.

But did you over-react? Perhaps you did? Either way, it wasn’t a great scene to walk in on. Your man and another woman alone in his studio. You can’t help but to have reacted that way. Wouldn’t any other person would? It’s not that she was there, it was the way she was very comfortable around Namjoon to the point of doing what she did. She was also a person you had never met.

Namjoon puts the tip of the glass to his lips, making direct eye contact with you as he takes a long sip of wine. You roll your eyes at his dramatic action.

He clears his throat, ‘‘ Im still young. I have female friends and I have male friends. I would love to have time with them before you start barking up my ass.”

Barking up his ass?

‘‘ So you’re saying that all you were doing was having fun with her cause you’re still got damn young huh? Is that what i’m hearing Namjoon?’‘ That rage begins in your stomach again. Simmering in you like boiling water.

You continue, “ It’s like you just don’t care you left me at the fucking restaurant looking stupid right?”

‘‘ No I wasn’t having fun with her. You ran out without letting me explain, instead you were all dramatic throwing fucking food at my windows.”  The sound of the glass clinking against the counter-top is sharp. You wince at the sound of it.

Maybe you did over-react. But in your defense, you still had no idea who the girl was.

“Yn, how childish can you be right now? Did you ever think that me, one of the members of a worldwide known boy-group will be busy? Hmm? Yes, I should of told you that I couldn’t make it beforehand. I honestly thought I would be able to join you, but I overlooked my schedule wrong. That is my fault. The girl came because she was scheduled to work on our collaboration tonight with me.”

Oh gosh. The guilt takes over your body all at once. This was the last thing you wanted to happen. You really outdid yourself now. During all your rage and tantrum about this situation, you had failed to realize that you had indeed signed up to live this type of relationship with him. Of course he’d be busy, he’s an idol. Not once did you take his feelings and thoughts into consideration this entire time.

“ I don’t know Yn, I don’t know if we can continue our relationship together. You and I seem to be clashing a lot now-a-days. You questioning my loyalty really hurt me. We should think about taking a break, or ending things.”

Tears well in your eyes but you just let them fall. Those words you never wanted to hear ever. Sure couples clash with each-other, but isn’t that what makes them stronger? It’d be One year and a half down the drain if things were to go south now. Namjoon is a sweet guy, but your recent over-reacting scenes is becoming too much for him.

There goes that silence again. You two just sit there, not saying a word. The tension is thick as wood. This isn’t right. This won’t be right. Th emotions in you are running high. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. Things were only said in the heat of the moment. You were tired of him always canceling and didn’t even bother to let him explain. This could of been handled better.

“ I’m sorry. It’s just that I’ve been wanting to spend time with you and you keep canceling on me Namjoon..”

He sighs, placing his now finished glass of wine in the sink. He runs his hands in his hair shaking his head again. “ I’m sorry for that. I should do a better job at telling you my schedule.”

It still hurts though. The way he said those words without hesitation. “ Do you.. still want us to take a break after this?”

“ I think that now that we understand each other a little more, we can work on being better together and not seperate.”

You’re happy to hear those words. Namjoon comes from behind the counter straight towards you where you were now standing beside the chair you were once sitting in. His arms snake around you and pull you into his chest, hugging you tightly. You sink into him, nuzzling your head into him with a small sigh.

“ I don’t like when we fight like this. You know I love you right? So much. So, so, much.” He whispers down to you. You nod your head in agreement. It’s something about being in his arms that soothe you.

You feel so complete with just the presence of him. He makes you happy, as you do him. Namjoon is understanding, caring, kind, and so much more to you. He was there for you on your worst days, and was there on your best days.

He plants a small kiss on your forehead, “ Let’s become better together yn. I want big plans for us in the future, and I don’t want to lose you.”

“ I want that for us too. I love you so much Namjoon. Even when things are bad for us, I care a lot about you.”

The butterflies in your stomach settle. Being in Namjoons arms is what home feels like to you. You’re secure and safe.

‘‘ Can you trust me next time? I promise from now on I will tell you in advance if I cannot participate instead of just leaving you wondering.‘

You nod your head, not caring about what he said but only caring about his embrace right now. The only thing you care about att he moment is him and his understanding.

‘‘ Can you trust me?’‘

[jae-canikeepyou]

| kismet | j.jh | part one

pair: jaehyun x fem!reader

word count: 10k+ welps

summary: his parents sends him for a month long vacation to the country side to meet his other half, which so happens to be you. and alternatively, your beloveds asks of you to be in your best behaviour while he’s around. disliking how things turn out, you both come up with a pact with each other before your two families gathers together for christmas eve dinner.

genre: arranged marriage + bad 1st impressions

a/n: happy new year ✨ and you know what that means? *wink wink* new layout for my oneshots hihi! ok you guys this took soooooo long to write ;-; i wasn’t satisfied with the first draft so i had to reboot everything! and i mean everything!! :3 so i had this specific genre in mind for a long time and i’m glad that someone requested at the same time while i was in the progress of writing it~ i should’ve posted this on christmas day but i was spending time with my family :D hope you understand hihihi anyway i’ll stop this here so you can enjoy reading! ~j

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

| part two | part three (final) |

jaehyun never reacted so quickly in his entire life, simultaneously spitting out the drink he consumed and eyes growing at the news his parents suddenly brought up. his neck ache at sudden twist. “what did you say?” he wiped the drips of coffee at the corners of his lips. his breathing intensified the more the silence passed.

mr. and mrs. jeong playfully sighed & exchanged looks as their son shouldn’t be this surprised regarding the topic. they have discussed about this when he turned eighteen. now twenty-three, he shouldn’t be so surprised or over-reactive about it either. 

“you heard your father,” mrs. jeong chewed her meal elegantly, yet giggles were still heard through closed lips. “you’re meeting her next week.”

he squinted with plenty of doubts filling his head, he was sure that there was still a year left. and to him that also meant he has exactly a year to convince his parents to call off the marriage he never asked for, let alone planned it. he still has a lot- correction, have yet to achieve in his mid-twenties and having a wife now would be slightly cutting his privacy short. 

in other words, the path to leisure he wished for after years of academics would divert to spending a life planned out for him. he had a diary and planner, and 

they were organised and well-thought out. but he had enough of his parents writing out his future for him, why couldn’t he write his own love story?

jaehyun was on his second last year of veterinary medicine, having some of the weight and pressure of academics lifted off his shoulders. of course he knew he still has to study, he just felt a little relaxed knowing that he would soon practice his dream career.

never had he expected that time flew and was going to meet his fiancé soon. 

his phone blinked with along with a message from his friends— mark and johnny. he briefly looked at the wallpaper of his long-time girlfriend of four years; she was the one who was on his mind. “nononono, i can’t get married now.” jaehyun’s panicking voice echoed the dining area, shoving the phone into his pockets.

mr. jeong raised a brow, placing his cup of coffee on the glass table. “relax, you’re not putting a ring on her finger yet.”

“‘yet’?!” the dimples on his face deepened as his cheeks bubbled. “mom, dad, i haven’t even met her!”

“hm? that’s why you’re spending the whole month at the countryside!” mrs. jeong exclaimed excitingly, and to jaehyun it seemed she was enjoying herself as if she were the one going there too.

“a month?! what am i going to do over there?!” 

“isn’t this great? we finally get to see you outdoors instead of a laptop and report papers! you need a break honey.” his mother clasped palms.

“ugh i can manage my time—”

“once you start working i’m pretty sure you won’t have the time to, jaehyun.”

since the love topic was brought up, his parents started to dig out their memories during their dating years. jaehyun groaned and massaged his temples, feeling uncomfortable with all the love stories he already heard or been told about. “did you forget that i have a girlfriend?” mumbling, he let out a deep, long sigh hoping they would hear him. and that failed miserably. his parents were in their own world. 

he shook his leg underneath the table and grew impatient with the duration of their conversation. “please, i’m begging you. i’ll get married in my own time and pace. sue and i are pretty much going to settle once we graduate-”

a certain ringtone perked his ears and his hands quickly pat his pockets to search his phone. he let out a sigh of relief, that his girlfriend psychologically read his mind and knew how much he wanted to get out of the dinner table, not to mention his parents’ overly attachment to one another. 

“sue you called! i was wondering if you want to hang out for a while.” his voice was high in spirits. but word has it when it reached its high, it would plummet to the ground shortly after. “hey, what’s wrong?” 

on the other line, just a call away from his girlfriend, was her held-in sob and whimper. “where are you right now? i’m coming to get you.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

jaehyun’s limbs shook in anger and slammed his fists onto the stirring wheel so hard that this time he promised himself he would move on. last week, she didn’t just break up with him— that was a call for farewell, something kept well hidden from him and all this time he didn’t know she felt the way she did for the years they’ve spent together. 

for a minute he wished this was all a dream, that conscious world would wake his slumber mind. it wasn’t. the reality pretty much awoke him and kept him up all night. he blinked several times, her words still numbing his hearing, wishing it was a lie... but he heard her loud and clear that night. 

“...you’ll always have a place in my heart.. but i’m really sorry..”

he grew speechless though his heart had millions of questions. the windows of his lips sealed closed no matter how much he wanted them to be answered. opposite from where he was at, he stared at the porch of her house, waiting for a silhouette to appear before him. instead a luxurious car pulled over and an unfamiliar man took his coat off to wrap around sue. that action didn’t hurt jaehyun, but it was sue’s smile of comfort that triggered his pain more. seemed like she knew this man given that she let him into her house, like nothing heartbreaking happened before this. 

the door closed and jaehyun’s teary eyes never left her residence until loud slams of swinging car doors opened on both sides of the passenger’s seats. “tsk.” he hissed and quickly rubbed the tears meaning to fall. him being seen crying would really make him a target for his friends, for not moving on. couldn’t risk being the attention more than he already was.

“goodness mark it’s not like we’re on vacation that you have to pack almost everything,” johnny threw one of mark’s duffle bags at the boy, earning a so-what kind of look from him. “we’ll only bring jae to the y/l/n’s then leave afterwards—”

screw this, jaehyun thought. by now he shouldn’t look too swollen to his friends. but screw mark for renting and living across from his ex’s house. 

“save your explanation john.” jaehyun growled and started the engine, fastening his while seatbelt the two continued their bickers. more of it was mark’s shallowness that pissed johnny.

“yeah, save your explanation john- ow!” mark gave the tall lad a death-gazing glare at the pain that stayed on his skin.

johnny leaned forwards, tapping the dimpled boy on the shoulder. “dude, you changed your mind?”

jaehyun scoffed, resting his left arm onto the window’s edge as he drove. “mom said i should be accompanied. i didn’t want you both to come but she’s so insisting it’s getting into my nerves.” 

“actually mrs. jeong said you might need us after your sudden breakup,” mark pressed the button. the window rolled up and down whereas him and johnny exchanged looks to try to liven up the mood in the car. “what are friends for, hm?”

“o-oh yeah. you’ll need us.. as in.. ‘sue’pport.” he nodded with a fake sob. soon mark bursted out in giggles and joined the wagon. 

“‘cause you lost your ‘sue’weetheart.” “she’s making you ‘sue’per emotional.” “we were ‘sue’prised she dumped you.” “but as your brothers, we ‘sue’wear we’ll be here—”

“ugh! i don’t know why mom suggested you to come but your side comments really aren’t helping at all—” jaehyun rolled his eyes regretting instantly at the pain afterwards.

his friends found him hilarious. they were laughing so hard that jaehyun couldn’t continue or interrupt their exploding voices. “since when did you need help, mr. leave-me-alone?” johnny took a huge leap from his seat to be beside the offended boy. “for all i know you’re the type who wants everything perfect, in control and planned.”

“nah dude, right now..” mark zipped his bag. “he needs help with love issues.”

“this has nothing to do with my love! and for the record, about the y/f/n’s? it’s arranged!” he lowered his cap and slid back slightly against the seat while the car was on idle. “do i need to spell it out for you?”

“that can change dude,” johnny slurped on his giant soda takeaway. jaehyun battered his eyes but was careful enough to not leave his sight off of the road. “who knows this fiancé of yours could meet your expectations. maybe more than sue could ever do.”

jaehyun’s mind clouded and still had the effects from the breakup. still so fresh. he didn’t want to believe it in fact happened; that it was all true. he was sure sue was the one for him. hearing his pals say it word per word only had it finally sunk in— she dumped him.

it terrified him in ways he couldn’t imagine, haunted him countless of nights because he failed her. he even bragged to his parents that he would marry her and slip a ring on her finger. thinking about it, how stupid was he to hold onto that hope?

he looked like an idiot, felt like one and his friends probably viewed the same. they said his fiancé could outstand sue? she was the perfect package! what more could he get?

he had her.

honks of the vehicles behind led jaehyun’s eyes trailing to the stoplight that emitted green. he pulled over and johnny knew he had to take his place. 

“here, let me drive. you’re not fit for driving. now, just be comfy back there, okay?”

—

hours later violent jolts of the car hit jaehyun’s cheek, regaining consciousness from his slumber just to witness the beautiful sunrise peeking from the horizon. he sat up, his posture trying to straighten to denumb nerves that held long during his sleep.

his playlist blasted the speakers. johnny had his legs on the dashboard and hummed with the music. mark was still sleeping peacefully like he hadn’t had a care in the world other than his precious bag of unfinished chips in his hands. 

he groaned at the discomfort of pulled muscles and the sudden break to the countryside. if johnny needed an hour intervals for the drive he could’ve said so, right? but now they were at the open road, greenery and fields merging together in one land. 

“what time is it? where are we and are we there yet? i’ll drive if what you do delays the journey.” jaehyun gestured him to move aside. “johnny, stop eating.” it was quarter to two.

“wha-? i’m hungry. hey, you’re the one who didn’t want to come and yet you’re rushing to get to the y/l/n’s?” johnny unwrapped his second burrito. “besides, we’re only five minutes away—”

“tsk ‘cause i need to piss real bad.” jaehyun was fidgety and panned the view before setting eyes on his friend. 

johnny felt a churn in his stomach as his cheeks bubbled. “oh gross! i’m eating dude! if you’re gonna piss then do it outside?!”

jaehyun shoved the burrito into johnny’s mouth to not speak anymore. “rather hold it in than for you to puke in my car!” he held his strength while johnny fought his way to breathe properly. “i won’t piss outside and there are cattles who feed on fields!”

“bruh stop lecturing me with your vet knowledge- ah!” johnny held his forehead from the sudden finger flicking.

“dude, it’s called common sense. now move aside!” he shooed the tall boy off the driver’s seat. jaehyun stepped on the gas, heading towards a small town entrance.

they finally reached a couple of stores & restaurants, surveying and asking its townsmen using your family name to locate your residence. maybe they would know which apartment or house you resided in. except that was the twist of their understanding. 

jaehyun and his boys were shocked to know how your family name plastered in posters and brand products displayed at open stores, but were more shocked to see the gazes from the people. 

a little over an hour, they managed to get hold of more information as they were told your house was ten minutes away from the town. jaehyun walked along the pavement to grab something to drink, only to be poked by a young man who was around the same age as they were.  

“hi.” he greeted the unfamiliar man. “i take it you’re looking for the y/l/n’s?”

he took a squint as he observed jaehyun from head to toe, circling around him. “uh-huh, you look like m’lady’s husband-to-be in the pictures.”

“e-excuse me?” jaehyun cleared his throat, seemingly unwilling to have this conversation going.

mark held his laugh per usual, it would take time to get used to jaehyun stumbling his words. 

because the engaged man really wasn’t ready at all. 

“yeap he’s the guy.” johnny popped the ‘p’ with a lollipop in his mouth. jaehyun rolled his eyes, taking the candy stick and tossing it away. he didn’t care about johnny’s scoffs.

the new young lad wore his motorcycle helmet. “sweet.” he prolonged the word. and that was when both mark and johnny lost it. they recalled the pun they entertain themselves with prior to arriving here.

“oh, i work with the town’s famous family,” he showed his i.d. wrapped around his neck. “you can follow me since i’m heading there too.” the three quickly twitched at his quick paced movement. “i’m kunhang by the way, but i’d rather be called hendery. it’s my professional name, it just sounds cooler.”

jaehyun furrowed his brows at the praise. “okay hendery, uhm famous? they’re big time?” he pointed at the posters holding your family name. “how so?”

hendery swung his face shield downwards. “you’ll see.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

gallops of horses were drumming the entire farm. dust and dirt swirled with the wind in the air and it took a while for the boys to adjust their sights at the distance. hendery dropped a couple of spare boots for them to wear. jaehyun was in awe. horses were majestic animals and though he got to study them, he never seen such a number of them on the fields.

“oh goodness me our guest is here!”

they turned around to voice of a jolly lady, an apron on and folded cuffs from her clothing. “hello there! welcome! you must be jaehyun! my soon to be son-in-law!” she shook his hands and later pulled him for a hug. “oh you look just like your mother!”

“hi mrs. y/l/n. y-yeah, i get that a lot these days,” jaehyun scratched his head. “thanks for having us.” 

her eyes trailed at mark and johnny, and they too, were pulled in for a hug. “i see jaehyun brought along his handsome friends with him! do enjoy your stay here with us!” she caught a glimpse of a figure approaching the crowd. “c’mere baby and meet the boys!”

jaehyun looked over his shoulder, lips parting and exhaled a short breath. she seemed young, she has a pretty face but obviously still in high school. what the? oh g- i’m marrying you?

“pfft no ew. i’m not getting married to you. i’m only 17.” she let out a chuckle, almost sarcastic enough for jaehyun to explode.

crap i said it unconsciously.

your mother lightly slapped her arm. “marg, where’s your sister?” she asked. “i told her to specifically come at the barn 1600.”

“she took jet for a ride. ‘detour’ she said, but i guess she’s on her way here.” she replied and mark choked on his water bottle. marg rolled her eyes. “green minded ass-”

“language marg!” hendery flicked her forehead, the latter held the pain. “the rudeness. sorry, kiddo here is the family’s baby. you’ll see the eldest daughter soon- oh! right on time m’lady!” he waved his hands up high.

jaehyun didn’t know what pissed him off more; one was at himself for being starstruck and in awe at you after his breakup, and two? 

the beautiful black horse you were riding on didn’t seem to be halting. it was trotting at first. you were on its saddle. he squinted his eyes, were you smirking? unbelievable. he thought you were doing this on purpose. no, you were really going to run him over. 

he noticed a change in speed, trotting then galloping on dirt. the sounds of it matched with the beatings of his rising heart. jaehyun took a step back, then it became more than one, until he was worried that he would end up being chased. there were couple of gasps and reminders of voices. he fell on his bum with palms hitting the ground as he breathed heavily, eyes still on you.

the horse listened to your rein, it let out a loud neigh with its front legs heavenwards. your laugh merged with it. “whoa- hey, easy jet, easy.” you cooed the animal, soon removing your helmet and hair flowed like those in shampoo commercials. “i think he got the message.”

jaehyun sat there dumbfounded, his brows drew together. what message? you were centimetres from killing him- wait. he saw you turn cold and your smile disappearing.

bingo! he got it. he knew the reason why you did this. 

you were against the arranged marriage too.

johnny leaned into mark’s ear, who had his hands cupping his lower face. “bro, jet’s a horse so stop giggling and clean your mind.” 

“dude i’m not laughing at that. just look at jae. i’ve never seen him so helpless.” he cackled a laugh. 

once your feet were on the ground, he finally got a better look on you. you were wearing a light wooled grey sweater with denim blue jeans. your hair now on one side and boots stained with dried mud. you took off your gloves to put your hand out for a handshake, one rested around your helmet. “hi, i’m y/n.” you greeted with a smile, ensuring it was fake enough for jaehyun to notice. 

“quite of an entrance.” jaehyun dusted his jeans and groaned at the exerted strength as he stood. “jeong jaehyun. veterinary medicine student..” he was about to grab your hand until you shoved yours into the pockets of your jeans. 

“y/n!” your mom exclaimed with warning. “your manners-” she clamped her lips when you put up a hand, eyes darting at her later at him.

“alright, okay. look mr. i didn’t ask for your field of study and i don’t need to know or do anything with you.”

jaehyun crossed his arms, a fake smile plastered on his face. what an attitude. “apparently you will? because i’m here for the next thirty days.”

“is that so?” you hummed and jaehyun didn’t like how you singsonged.

he knew something was coming and sometimes he thought it was best to keep quiet instead of letting his annoyance towards you spark up. “good, that means you’re helping me out with everything i do here.” he heard you say. “and do things i tell you to.”

“what?” his eyebrows snapped, and for you it was quite entertaining to see this reaction from him. following the trail of your footsteps, jaehyun stomped on wet soil as he stood before you. “hey you can’t just order me around like i’m your staff!”

“of course i can, you’re in my property-” you gestured the land.

“no, it belongs to your parents.” the tone of his voice irked you. he was grinning too.

“i can do whatever i want and choose whenever to help. i’ll only listen orders from mr. and mrs. y/l/n if they want me to do work..” he trailed off, your mother waving at him with admiration— typical as she saw him like an long lost son. “..but i guess not. my mom did say i needed a break from studying too much and she’s totally right. i must be pardoned from labour.”

it was your turn to cross arms and give him a lop-sided smile. the audacity of this man. you felt like ripping all your hair out. “you think staying here would prevent you from doing labour, your highness? sitting on your throne all dignified and at peace? well guess what, just because you’re a guest that doesn’t mean you get to be treated differently-”

you heard him bubble out a forced snicker. what was it this time? “of course it’s different! i am the guy you’re betrothed to-”

“i won’t allow it.” your jaw tightened with lips in a hard line. “a person like you is not worth my time and definitely not someone i’d want to marry.”

he pursed his lips. “wow do people ever tell you how bad of a host you are? you just don’t go shoving assumptions into people’s faces for your own entertainment. we’re humans.”

“i’m only rude to you. and yeah, people are humans. but you’re the devil’s incarnate.” you pulled jet’s reins and led him to the stables in which jaehyun observed how you gave that same smirk from earlier. “see if you’ll enjoy your stay here, hubby.” 

jaehyun clenched his fists and was sure little crescent moons already indented his palms. he only wanted sue to call him that. yet that was useless, they broke up. your face remained in his head and anger filled him up, now boiling so much that he felt a little lightheaded arguing with someone like you. 

he wanted to yell but johnny and mark sandwiched him between them with hendery walking in front. “tsk it’s only the first day and i want to go home.” he scrunched his nose. 

hendery had his palms behind his head, lips jutting to hold his grin. “m’lady—” he corrected himself. “y/n’s not usually like that. it’s a first seeing her so cranky and hotheaded.”

“really? how is she usually like?” mark asked with curiosity. “she seems cool because she smiled at johnny and me before the tables.. y’know, turned.” he shrugged with implications towards jaehyun.

“not cranky and not hotheaded.” hendery opened the door to your house, showing them to the large living area. “a lil’ different today but i tell you, our y/n is a professional equestrian. she’s passionate with what she does and—”

“a horse rider?! passionate?!” jaehyun hissed as he took off his shoes and brown coat, kicking it slightly to the side and hung it on the wall respectively. “she almost killed me!”

johnny hit the back of jaehyun’s head and clicked his tongue. “snap out of it jae, you’re overreacting. we’re at your future in-law’s residence and i think it’s a bad idea to badmouth their daughter.” 

only a low groan escaped out of jaehyun as he refused to listen. “look, first impressions don’t always hit off a good start. but thinking how you both don’t have a say to this arranged marriage, your feelings towards each other are totally understandable.”

jaehyun pressed the bridge of his nose as he took in his friend’s words. if what johnny said was true, was it right for him to begin holding grudge on you on the first day? you barely knew each other. clearly he knew you hated him, yet if his parents were here and saw the whole thing, they’d ask: why risk the chance of not trying? and again, he remembered he was told, people can change. 

—

throughout dinner, he got to know what your family business was and why it was well-known. he didn’t ask questions, they were just told to him like they were comfortable with it. they weren’t bragging either. perhaps it was due to the fact jaehyun would soon be part of this family that they told him the entire story. 

you didn’t show up during the hour and honestly it got jaehyun feeling so much relief since he wouldn’t have to deal with another useless argument. he disliked wasting time and preferred to do this schedule accordingly, so remembering it only made him rage inside. he was glad he wouldn’t have to deal with you tonight. 

except that relief was shortlived. you had to appear right when he thought of you.

great.

he tried to fix himself in his seat on the sofa by the fireplace, averting his gaze upon you while your mother continuously slapped you light on the arms. you probably finished your bath, given that you still have a towel wrapped around your head and a.. robe.

“y/n! have some courtesy! we have guests!” your mother warned as she gestured in front to cover you, apologising to the new boys. hendery immediately stepped in as well, his eyes shutting to a close and pushing you back to the bottom of the staircase. 

“but mom! i’m hungry and there might not have any cookies left if you keep giving it to them-” you were cut off with hendery’s pats.

he brushed his hair. sighing, he had to shoo you away because you were clearly attracting eyes, definitely not the decent kind. “i have a jar prepared for you m’lady so please.. get dressed!”

you quickly ran up as you were told, mumbling and complaining. jaehyun and his friends were definitely at a loss for words. because not only were you careless, you were oblivious too. 

mark scrunched his nose to start a conversation with jaehyun. “looks like she called you ‘hubby’ too quickly.” he closed his lips to contain his laugh. 

“pfft jae your ears really are honest huh?” johnny pointed at them as he held his chest, fistbumping mark for another win. 

he wasn’t going to tell them that he in fact did find you pretty, and the thing was, he shouldn’t be giving a reaction too soon. “it’s the spicy chocolate cookie!” jaehyun defended.

“huh, i didn’t bake any cookie with those flavour-” hendery pondered, but he stopped since he spotted jaehyun begging to help him here.

“you know that we know if you’re lying right?” the two squinted eyes, putting more pressure to the boy to admit what he felt when he saw you earlier. “bet ya felt something.”

afraid that your family could hear them, jaehyun grabbed their shoulders to huddle them in close. he cleared his throat to catch their attention, yet his friends continued their giggles. “i swear if you both embarrass me in front of the y/f/n’s, consider the days with your precious.. phones.”

“ah c’mon dude. don’t do that. we bought our i12’s together-” mark whined.

“then at least help me out here guys. i have a reputation to hold-” 

“oh for being her hubby?” johnny gave a playful grin and soon was replaced with a nervous smile. “okay i’ll zip it.”

he heard your mother facetiming his mom, voices loud enough for him to know that there would be a huge gathering at christmas eve dinner. great, another one i have to deal with.

jaehyun put down his beanie and crossed his arms to snooze for a bit. he had too much going on in his head the whole day that maybe sleeping it off would let him calm down from all feelings he felt tonight. on the sofa, the weight beside him lowered, the scent of freshly baked cookies along with lavender perfume got him peeking under his beanie. 

it was you, who looked like a squirrel happily munching away with your jar of cookies whilst eyes glued to the television.

he smiled a little to himself. so you can have this cute side-

fragments of sue’s face appeared in his mind. right. he was supposed to be heartbroken. he still was. a week into the breakup had remains to his heart. bothered with sue’s ultimatum and your annoying munches, he grabbed your wrists and out at the veranda.

it pissed him because it seemed like he was the only one who cared about both of your futures or actually would do something to change your families’ minds, where as you were carefree with your cookies. “hey!” you held the jar tight in your arms as you quickly slid your feet into your slippers. “rude! i’m eating!”

the rest of the people in the dining and kitchen area grew voices of woohoo’s, jaehyun’s pupils flared at their cheers. “just come with me for a second!” he hissed, turning the knob and closing the door.

“seriously jaehyun you can’t just ruin my happy time! what do you want-”

he looked in between the curtains from the outside, where he could faintly hear his friends talking the embarrassing things about him— especially how he felt for this arrange marriage. “aren’t you pressured or angry at the situation our parents have put us into?” he leaned against a column. “even my friends are joining the wagon.”

you cackled whilst scrolling your phone. “here i thought you only cared about animals, dr. jeong.” hearing how jaehyun scoffed at your comment, you shoved your device in your pockets. “and yes of course i’m mad! what they decided is so against my will.”

jaehyun stared at you and surprised that he actually felt exactly the same. “really? then let’s make a pact. sounds good?” he offered with arms folded while you still were occupied with your phone. “well?”

“why would i listen to you? as far as i know, we already clashed and hate each other.” you rolled your eyes. “what makes you think i’ll agree?”

he sighed. “y/n, i know you don’t want this, i don’t too. at least there’s something we have in common. i’m just thinking that we have to show them we’re not meant to be together. we both have lives we want to live without the other.”

there was a change in his voice. you could tell he was serious and trying to suggest something he’d want you to agree on. “fine, what’s the pact?” you gave an uninterested tone. probably a bad idea, you thought.

“like you said, ‘clash and hate each other’. we have exactly twenty four days to convince them that you, me, us?” he pointed at his chest then yours. “is impossible. twenty four days, it’s until the night of christmas eve.”

actually that’s not bad at all. “hm, that’s easy since i can’t stand you.” you said, now standing up to face him. “even better if we can do this in less than 24.”

“cool, we have to make our fights as natural as possible. no signals or heads-up. full-on make me angry and i’ll do the same. the more we argue the more they’ll believe there’ll never be an ‘us’.” his voice a bit lively than before. “i want my buds to be fooled into this too. just be realistic and- nghf!”

you shoved a huge cookie into his mouth. “tsk, you’re noisy. i get you so shut up. i agreed with the pact, but i have conditions, okay?”

jaehyun nodded as he chewed angrily with his eyes closed, though the cookies’ taste might’ve simmered down his temper towards you. “ha, then i have conditions too-”

“see you in the morning.” he heard you say as the door slammed with the attached bell ringing his ears. 

now that was one of his conditions; no interrupting while he talks. he sighed seeing you head up the stairs. he sighed. “ugh, i can never marry a girl like her.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

stretching as high as you can, the muscles loosened in every part of your body from riding yesterday. the sun shone its brightest despite the cold weather. you remembered the pact and you knew you would not let a day pass without bothering him. somehow his existence annoyed you to the bone, not even words were enough to explain how you felt. 

at the farthest point your peripheral could reach, you spotted jaehyun peacefully— and actually enjoying— the hammock whilst faintly you heard mark and johnny debating which pronunciation was the correct one. fixing your boots as you walked towards them, the two scurried off to the side, noticing the stomps of your feet getting closer. 

“get up.” you wriggled the hammock, causing it to be lop-sided. 

jaehyun managed to balance himself from the swings. “what the-” his voice hitched. “you’re ruining my relax time!”

you pretended to ponder as you looked up to the sky. “hm, sounds awfully familiar, doesn’t it?” referring to his sudden action towards you the night prior.

“seriously y/n what do you want? i’m in no mood to do work today and i clearly told you last night-” jaehyun fixed his eyes onto your finger that silenced his lips.

jaehyun raised a brow and rolled his eyes. what was your deal? he thought. “condition number one.” you started, bringing your voice down. “starting today you’ll do the work for me and with me. considering you’re taking veterinary science, i’m guessing you know your ways through equine husbandry. so in the coming days you can check the horses’ health while i practice my rounds.”

ah, so that’s what this was about. “uh-huh, but my condition number one is you shouldn’t make me do labour unless you really need it.” jaehyun got off the hammock, chugging his glass of water like it’s one-shot. “it’s the first light, y/n. my service starts in the afternoon.”

“i see. you’re not a morning person.” you checked your nails.

“i so am! but it’s my month long vacation. let me enjoy this before i experience exploitation from you.” he forced a smile that made you want to push him off the veranda.

you walked down the steps and straight to the barn opposite from your house. “it’s either exploitation today or exploitation for the whole month.” you singsonged while you twirled in your stance. hearing him growl meant your tactic worked. “i’ll let you experience the beauty of country side, city boy.”

jaehyun’s brows narrowed as he followed you anyway, later looking back at his friends who were stifling a laugh. “did you just compare me to feces first thing in the morning?”

“did you just boggle up my brain with scientific terms?” you hid a giggle when you heard his friends finally bursting out and losing it. because they too, experienced jaehyun’s sudden blabber of uncommon usage of words, especially conversational-wise. “i made a pun but it seems like you acknowledge the nickname.”

“i did not!” jaehyun pressed his temples. “i may have misheard you but i didn’t acknowledge it! you’re too assuming!”

“mhm sure.. but you are stepping on one though.” you whistled and gestured mark and johnny to the stables.

jaehyun grumbled as he checked the soles of his shoes. indeed he stepped on it and licked his lips in annoyance that it’d be hard to clean it off. the door opened and hendery’s morning face only turned sour at the unsightly view. he tossed another pair of spare boots for him to wear before they both headed to where you all were. 

hendery introduced the things they do here; feed the horses, fix their saddles  repair them if damaged. they were minor things since your family did hire people to do them. and since you and him were professionals in equine sports, he mentioned you both spend all days practicing. 

good, if it was you who toured him around the area, he wouldn’t think lasting a day with your intentions of ruining his mood. though it was part of the pact, it seemed like you enjoyed this a lot more than he expected. hendery brought him to places your family owned, land properties that expanded until the mountains. it’s no wonder you were free to roam around and unafraid of getting lost. 

you made him do a lot. and he was glad he was able to handle, thank heavens. however he didn’t feel much of a challenge from any of them, where you claimed they were ones he couldn’t do. jaehyun lost track of time, the sky was his only companion to tell the hours and probably lost count of the tasks too. all he could remember was the endless bickering, yells and frequent eye rolls. 

in all those, he still let you off the hook— first day of work and all, he has to be patient. and he wasn’t bothered with what you tasked him to do, until his friends stood behind you as you showed them the rest of the horses. 

after you told him to move the bundles of hay he thought was the last, you were currently trying to make mark pet the horses as they were bobbing their heads towards the young man while johnny recorded his reaction. 

“isn’t she all well now.” jaehyun rolled his eyes as he helped hendery lift the infinite bundles. “my friends get the leisure and i have to work?”

hendery laughed as he unbuttoned his collar. “she was told by her mom that you’ll be in her care since you both will get married eventually. plus mrs. y/f/n said it’s a way to get to know y/n too.” he explained, seeing you walk towards them with a hay cart, hands signalling your childhood friend to get some bundles from you. the final bundles were finally fed to the horses, and you skipped your feet to fetch jaehyun.

jaehyun knew you had intentions to make fun of him because the way you walked really pissed him off. so he decided to have his fun too. ���are you that weak you’re unable to carry a small patch? guess my hourly pay needs an increase.” he low-key flexed his muscles. truthfully speaking it was a sight to look at, too bad his attitude didn’t match it.

you rested on one leg while you look at him. he was testing the waters with you, smile slowly resurfacing as you gave even the slightest reaction towards him. oh it’s on. he annoyed you yesterday and would be a lot more in the next coming days. jaehyun leaned forwards that he was towering over you. his body made you feel small but that didn’t stop you from getting back at him.

“the only thing increasing for you is workload.” you hummed, putting back the cart into its place.

he glared at you as if you were dead meat. you ignored him. “i’ve had enough for today. muscles are sore.” hands in his pockets, jaehyun kicked the remains of hay off his shoes before he was stopped by you. “ugh you’re so annoying.” he clicked his tongue. 

“nope, you’re not done until i am. we have to find materials for christmas wreaths at my grandpa’s up north.” you pointed at the mountains as you took hendery’s hands and soon mounted on jet with him.

“oh and i’m supposed to walk there while you’re so relaxed miss bossy?” jaehyun shook his head in disbelief looking at the distance.

“uh yes?” you laughed to yourself. “i don’t think you’ve ever ridden a horse before, but if ever you did, it’s probably at a carnival.”

sudden outbursts of emotions evident on his face now. “was i born under a rock? of course i’ve ridden!” he took the reins given to him by hendery. “and it’s not a carousel!”

for a while he had a certain confidence, his soles stepping on the stirrup and dimples deepening with the strength he gave to put his right leg over. but once that was done and high up off the ground, his heart beat an army per second. cash, hendery’s horse gave loud neigh. jaehyun had done this before as a child and definitely felt like one now. he should be able to handle a 30-minute journey.

jaehyun heard you giggling, perhaps he knew how hideous he looked. despite hendery seated behind you, you led the way for the most part of the ride. you were surprised to see jaehyun have gotten the hang of it. it pissed you a lot because he was vlogging with his phone— sputtering out words to keep the diss battle going. johnny and mark hopped on the available bikes, cycling on your sides, and their laughter rather calmed you than annoy you. 

it pissed you a lot more because you’ve practically ran out of ideas to tell him in return. keeping quiet wasn’t your forte, you were a young woman with plenty of things to say, even more so to jaehyun. going through the woods, you signalled hendery to halt the horse for you and the rest of the boys followed you to gather the materials needed. 

“this shouldn’t be too long to take.” jaehyun looked at the trees towering meters above him, then straight to you who was shaking head in disbelief. “we’re just taking the materials at your grandfather’s and head back, right?”

“did i mention my granddad?” you balanced yourself on large wood log. the tone of your voice started to warm up with bickers you weren’t able to tell him. 

“you did!” jaehyun anticipated this and somehow he didn’t. “now lead the way to his place and we can get the hell out of here.” his eyes grew squints of disgust at his surroundings, as if he hadn’t been into the forest before. his friends went on ahead with hendery around the woods to look for what’s needed.

“nah, we’re picking acorns, pine cones, berries and other leaves by hand. his cottage is just around here but that doesn’t mean the materials are from him. let’s go, whiney.” 

“oh my g-” jaehyun pulled you on the arm and off you went towards him. “y/n i’ve had enough for today and i’m so tired of taking your orders- i’m physically tired of doing things your way and i can’t think straight-”

“pecans?” you said as his eyes crossed to see your palms full of the shelled nuts. “you’re hungry, aren’t you? that’s why you’re so cranky and agitate-y.” placing one but onto a flat rock, you smashed it strong enough for it to crack yet not totally destroying the inside. you popped one into your mouth and gave the most taunting grin jaehyun has seen from you all day. 

he was about to grab the rest of the nuts until you swung your arm that he wasn’t able to reach them. “y/n! give me some!” he yelled and the rest of your friends look at you both after hearing you laugh in the most evil manner.

“never!” you scurried off deeper into the woods. jaehyun rolled his eyes not at how fast you were, but due to how slow he actually was because of the amount of disgust he had.

he knew this would take all day and he didn’t know how long his patience can take for another three weeks with you.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

jaehyun couldn’t describe in words with what he experienced since arriving. if he had to compare with school, it was similar to studying and cramming for hours non-stop. it gotten him mentally exhausted, physically too. but the only difference between being cooping up in his room and doing work outdoors was the continuous nagging from you. 

it was far from quiet. he could handle his mom’s high pitched yells. but you? anything that came from you or done by you made him want to plaster a duck tape on your lips. you were as annoying as a five year old child who looked for someone vulnerable to bully. unfortunately he became your prey because he was in your lands. and though there were times he was able to banter back, he always felt you still had the upper hand.

it was all sunny and good days out in the countryside and jaehyun found that fact the only bright side. he enjoyed it every single morning. yet sometimes good sunny mornings meets its bad, that is, when grey clouds destroyed the beauty of the sky. in this case, it was you. you were far from his dream girl— sue. she was elegant, poised and had a heart of gold. you were the complete opposite who’d rather be rogue and do things your way. other than completing ten christmas wreaths and feeding the horses or more farm work, he couldn’t remember what he did for the past eight days because all that entered his mind was the dictator you. 

but today he felt different, maybe things wouldn’t be as hard than last week. he felt good. he sat at the long dining table with all morning faces exposed. it was currently 7 a.m and your mom have already prepared breakfast. and per usual, you were the only one they waited for before they start the first meal. 

“marg, is your sister still asleep?” your mother put down a large casserole to warm up everyone’s stomach in winter. 

marg only shrugged because for one, she didn’t care, and two, she stated that it wouldn’t be her doing this since jaehyun was marrying you. “oh jaehyun. please do head upstairs to her room and awake y/n up.”

“and why do i have to do this?” jaehyun mumbled to himself and johnny nudged him on the arm. he groaned and got up, his stomps were heavy and unwilling. 

once he was in front of your door, he knocked twice loudly so he wouldn’t have to spend so much time to get you. there was a small tune playing in your room, like it was from a music box. the door was already opened. he peeped through the thin gap, seeing you still sleeping soundly. goodness’ sake, he thought, and entered the room since your mother was asking if he woken you up. 

your room was in fact, neat. all things were organised and arranged. if there was one thing he learned from you other than being an ass, was that you loved stuffed animals. not a hint of dolls or barbies or any toy displayed related to that spectrum. two lines of medals displayed and they all shone in gold. plaques had your names and young portraits of you with smiles of victory. hendery wasn’t lying when he said you were a professional. he wasn’t going to lie— you were impressive despite the little horns coming out of your head.

he stood next to your bed where you were all bundled in a huge blanket. he raised a brow, it was strange for you to have two thick blankets covering you. “hey y/n.”

no response. 

“y/n. wake up, your mom is calling for breakfast and you’re usually the first one seated at the table.” he wriggled your body with the butt of the umbrella and you didn’t budge.

“she baked croissants and aren’t they your favourite? dipped in chocolate ganache and sprinkles?” he tried sounding happy. note that, he tried.

this girl.. he bit the insides of his lips, spotting the markers in a cylinder container and took one to begin drawing on your face. his soft giggles filled your room and the strong scent of markers met your nostrils, waking you from your slumber. 

“what the he- jaehyun?!” you hissed at how close his face was to yours, failed to realising he was done drawing on your morning skin. “get away from me!”

everyone downstairs could hear the both of you, arguing like cats and dogs. each footstep might’ve covered the entire floor above them and the ceiling could give in. 

“you ruined my morning with your ugly face!” “what?! you’re more ugly, ugly!” “you entered my room?! you have no rights!” “breakfast’s ready and your mom asked me to!” “well my nose could’ve smelled mom’s food but i smelled your stinky breath instead!”

“whatever, i finished your share of croissants!” jaehyun quickly head down the staircase.

“you dare eat my food?!” you still had a blanket from head to toe as you followed him down. “no one takes my food!”

“your loss since you’re still in bed you lazy ass!” jaehyun sat beside johnny and continued his meal. “and you were snoring loud too-”

“i did not- agh!” you grumpily sat and immediately eyed the last croissant sitting at the center of the table. all eyes were on you with black ink scribbled on your face. 

there was an awkward silence then you felt jaehyun’s stare at the only food you wanted for breakfast. there was a back and forth battle of stares between you, him and the food. maybe it was the slow reflexes you have in mornings that jaehyun took the bread before you did. he stuck out a tongue as he deliciously ate half of it, chewing slowly just to let you imagine the flavours of sweet silky chocolate. you could feel yourself drooling and the cravings of your stomach rising up to your throat. every chew he did was a stab to your guilty-pleasure heart. 

jaehyun stopped and gave a smug grin. “you wanted this y/n?” his question sounding a song rather than an honest one. “all you have to do is beg.”

you gulped, rolling your eyes. “shut up!” you kicked his knee out of jealousy and savoured the soup instead. 

“ow!” he hissed through a laugh and looked at your mom. “mrs. y/f/n, i’d like to know the recipe for this. do you give lessons?” jaehyun licked the remains of chocolate around his lips, hopefully it was enough to cover up the violence you did under the table.

your mother giggled at his sweet talk. “why learn it from me when you have y/n to teach you?”

you choked on your soup and tear your gaze away from jaehyun to your mother, where she was already enjoying your shocked reaction. “oh give me a private lesson, bulldog terrier.” he propped his chin and mimicked clicks as if he was calling animal.

you quickly touched and rubbed your face to see the ink contaminate your fingers. the spoon reflected the dark circle around your right eye. “oh my g- you! this will be hard to remove!” the fork around your hand pointed directly at him. 

“y/n!” hendery put down your wrists as jaehyun laughed loud. you took the wet wipes marg gave you and whined a little whilst you stood by the mirror behind jaehyun.

“don’t be so bummed out honey.” your mom assured, giving a wink to jaehyun. “it’s a small prank. marg did it to you before.”

checking yourself for the last time at the mirror, you rolled your eyes. “i have enough patience for marg,” with one hand you cupped jaehyun’s lower face from the chin spreading to the cheeks, soon pinching hard on his dimples with a pointer finger and thumb. “but none for the human bread.”

“ow don’t touch me!” jaehyun swifted his head to look at you and he saw you flashed a smile like you were satisfied. 

“a human bread with molds. ew, i lost appetite so i’ll be out for a ride.” you stood up to grab your coat. “see ya ugly.”

“remember to you have to clean the barn house y/n!” your mom called out.

“yeah got that!”

johnny and mark bent their heads down and let their friends suffer from multiple dots on his faces. what made it funnier was that jaehyun munched happily on his meal, hadn’t gotten a single clue. he then eyed you when you passed the window and straight to the stables. “isn’t it too early for practice?” he drank his cup of hot chocolate. 

“she can ride all day. sometimes she doesn’t arrive home and the next morning you see her sleeping in the barn house.” marg tied her hair into a high bun. “the amount of dedication is there, except the passion she used to have isn’t really there anymore- hey!” she glared at hendery who gave her a warning look. 

what was that all about? jaehyun thought while his eyebrows met together and good thing it wasn’t obvious to your family. he was indeed curious, but he’d rather hear it from you than to look like a jerk who wanted to gossip about personal lives. the thing was, it’s you. though majority of the week was him suffering with workload, he liked to bicker with you until you gave up and had nothing to say. 

so far he recorded as 5-11 in terms of owning the other. the latter was his score and he was proud of it.

hendery’s phone vibrated and slid it to jaehyun’s place. jaehyun blinked to adjust his sight to the brightness of the phone. a sigh came out of his lips and the rest of them could tell it was another order from you. “ooh that doesn’t sound good.” mark slurped his soup. 

“it’s not.” jaehyun brushed his hair and hesitation slowly crept his body. “she asked me to clean the upper floor of the barn by the time she arrives.”

—

jaehyun massaged his wrists by twisting them. he looked at the barn house’ entrance because he noticed a figure approaching. you’ve had the best morning after jaehyun ruined it. as you rode, nothing beats the freshness of the cool wind. you love riding through the woods and grasslands. it sets you free from everything keeping you caged. your smile began to falter when you saw jaehyun who was not even halfway close to finishing. “you’re late. your mom had to apologise on your behalf because i’m doing the job for you.”

“ooh thanks! i’ll count on it!” you laid comfortably on a chair.

“hey!”

you leaned against the furniture, arms crossed where he was a floor above and standing at your 2 o’clock view. “dr. jeong it looks like you’re having a hard time. need help?” you stifled a laugh because he still has the ink marks you left on his face.

“on with the assumptions again, aren’t we?” he fixed his gloves and moved wooden planks from one place to another. 

“yeah you make yourself too easy of a target, jaehyun. and i thought you’re the type to not take things seriously.” you tied jet’s reins to a pole.

“you’re forgetting my condition number two, you can only badmouth me if the others are around. now get your flat butt up here and move the tool box aside so i can continue what i’m doing.” he grunted whilst lifting. 

dusting your pants, you were now standing a storey high. the sight of the height below you made you sick. jaehyun nudged your arm and you took the items blocking his way. you sighed and he noticed how fidgety you were. he put up a small smile. his entertainment from you didn’t end at the breakfast table. 

he scooted closer to you, pretending to bump into you with the pile of tall wooden planks in his arms. he heard you hiss, and that was the signal to begin. “oops didn’t see you there shorty.” there was a change in his voice, a more aggressive type of approach. 

“you’re doing that on purpose.” you checked the pained area of your forearm.

“what if i’m not? it could be an honest mistake.” he tilted his head away from the wood to see you.

a held-in soft disbelief laugh came out of your lips. “honesty doesn’t really blend in well with you.” 

jaehyun gasped with arched brows. “wow i’m very offended— you think this face..” he largely gestured himself. “would ever lie?”

“if you want to hear me saying you’re handsome.. it’s not happening.“ you took the rope to hang on a nail. 

“but you did say it.” he singsonged and you could push him off the loft but that could only happen in your head. 

“then that’s an honest mistake.” you flashed a forced smile at him. you carried the boxes stacked upon one another. “if you have a huge ego like that i bet you never dated. no girl would ever date you.” 

jaehyun fell silent, his mood to bash you suddenly changed. the shifts in his steps became heavier and as if he was putting his anger upon them. he didn’t like being reminded of sue, even if you unconsciously did so. “can’t you just keep quiet as you work? do you always have something to say? keep your damn mouth shut if you think all the fun you get is from belittling people.”

“okay sheesh sorry i didn’t know you have a heart for people too.” you removed your helmet to relieve the discomfort from it. 

as time passed— two hours to be exact, the more your guilt begin to seep in you. jaehyun never spoke after that. silence was like death at this point. not a hint of sniffs and sighs from him. did you go too far that he actually chose not to talk anymore? all you thought about was the pact he suggested. what now? anyone could appear any moment. 

this wasn’t like you at all. you hesitated to talk to him and to give the first move to bicker. you stood there staring at him piling boxes after boxes and sweeping the floor where dust accumulated like piles of sand. you bit your lips because screw this, you hated this atmosphere, you hated this silent treatment. “j-jaehyun?” you called out.

nothing. 

“hey-”

“hm? guilt eating you up now?” you froze at his voice as he chuckled. “it has, hasn’t it? look at your face!” he was laughing, his hands holding his ballooning stomach. “y/n you should’ve seen yourself!”

your gaze followed his hands that quickly took his phone placed at one corner. he was recording and your obliviousness blinded you. “oh you have no idea how much i wanted to laugh! my cheeks hurt so bad! hahaha!”

“you’re not using that to blackmail me!” you strided towards him.

he put his arm high as you struggled to reach it. “i might as well do that thanks for the idea!” faintly you heard his friends coming to check as to why their friend had the laughter of the century, only to find you both bickering again like this morning.

“delete that video jaehyun! i mean it!” “not until you agree to clean the loft!” “that’s like telling me to do everything!” “then that’s exactly what i’m telling you to do!”

johnny put up his phone to recording the struggling you and jaehyun enjoying his time to take advantage of his height. “dude i’ve never seen jaehyun this happy since sue broke up with him.”

“yeah his dimples are legit showing it’s scary me.” mark squinted at the two of you.

jaehyun swung his arms to avoid your attempted catches. he scrunched his nose and although that was undeniably cute, you couldn’t afford to feel humiliated for another two weeks. “jaehyun please delete it!”

“it’s not convincing enough you know?” “stop joking around we could fall!” you hissed. “fall?! then stop trying to get my phone!” “then put down your ridiculously long arm!” “yours are just too short!” “i swear— delete the footage!”

“you have to sound like you beg for it—” he cackled and with a few stretches you managed to reach his wrists as you lunged forwards. “oi stop!” that one last reach only made jaehyun lose his balance and fell backwards. 

and all you heard were yells of worry.

to say that you both gladly fell on soft pillows of hay was an understatement. at least that what it looked like to your friends. jaehyun was shocked, his arm felt numb. he took a good look at you and there you were laying on his arm with pale lips. “hey, you okay?” his hands were already out to help you. “y/n—”

“m’lady!” hendery rushed to you, causing jaehyun to flinch at the tone of his voice. he gently took your right arm, but you gritted your teeth and asked him to take the left. “painful?”

“not that serious.” you said, feeling the stares from jaehyun. “ew don’t look at me like that. i’m fine, really. let’s just call it a day.” you gave a small smile and he wasn’t buying it.

because jaehyun saw you clung onto hendery for dear life. 

[ironmandeficiency]

who’s my commander

pairing: no pairing

word count: 3352

summary: you’re introducing anakin to your battalion and it turns into a nightmare of epic proportions (for him). everyone else seems to be enjoying themselves.

a/n: based on the finest pieces of comedy in history, abbot and costello’s “who’s on first”. the clones are all original & will soon give more information about them, don’t worry.

jones lands the laat/i on the surface of felucia and you’re already dreading the idea of leaving your men here. it has nothing to do with the man you’re entrusting them to and everything to do with the cursed reputation this planet has for its hostility. if you weren’t leaving your men behind you’d be glad to leave.

the doors opened unceremoniously and you were barely adjusted to the light when you saw members of the five-oh-first approaching you behind their general. “anakin, it’s been too long! how are you?”

he smiles and takes your hand in one of his. “i’ve been worse, my friend. now i’d like you to introduce me to your command team, since none of us have worked together before.”

rex, who was standing at anakin’s right, knew what was about to happen. many of the lavender-clad men of the 25th battalion were known for being jokers back in their cadet days and had a reputation for such all around the gar. nearly a third were banned from 79’s for their well-meaning antics and when they were around, everyone was guaranteed to have a good time (if they had a sense of humor, that is).

the names of their higher-ranking officers, however, were the best and longest-running prank any clone had ever seen. it started out as a way to piss off the longnecks but it soon evolved to a new, unforeseen method to screw with the seppies.

and now, it was going to mind fuck one of the best generals in the republic army.

“absolutely, but i will warn you, sometimes our men give themselves funny names.” it’s hard work to keep your voice from betraying the joke. you’ve done this song and dance often and it never stops being funny. this time, you hope one of your men are close enough to record this one. “names like crappemm, jort-“

“jort?”

“yes, and his batchmate ba.”

“i see.”

 how was “jort” the one that stuck out?

anakin nods and you smile. He probably doesn’t believe the names you rattled off are actual men in your battalion but he’ll learn soon enough when your men begin to make sheep noises that you weren’t joking.

“anyway, who’s my commander, what’s my captain, and i don’t know is my sergeant.”

the dumbfounded look you’re given by your fellow general almost sends you into the force right then and there. “that’s... what i want to find out.”

“so listen then. who’s my commander, what’s my captain, and i don’t know is my sergeant.” you don’t need the force to see that anakin’s men are enjoying the confusion radiating from him, his second in command stepping out of anakin’s line of vision so he can bring a hand to his head in amused exasperation.

“are you their general?”

“yes.”

“have you been their general since the start of the war?”

“yes.”

“yet you don’t know their names?!”

“well i should.”

more men from both the twenty-fifth and the five-oh-first have gathered to witness the mind boggling conversation between their generals. over rex’s shoulder you see two five-oh-first troopers enthusiastically eating from a bag of air-combusted kernels popular on coruscant. now that you think about it, it’s been too long since you enjoyed the snack. you’d have to find some next time your men are on leave.

“so then who’s your commander?”

“yes.” he’s right but he just didn’t realize it yet. ‘this is going to be fun… if he doesn’t fight me before i leave.’

“i mean the man’s name.”

“who.”

“your commander?”

“who.”

“the trooper that is your second in command!”

“who.”

rex turns to the commander in question. he had found his way to rex’s side where the latter now stood slightly behind anakin, discretely staying out of his general’s peripherals. “does this ever get old?” rex had never seen the well-known introductions of jedi to the twenty-fifth in person and quickly decided that the holos he had seen didn’t do it justice. 

“not really, since you never know what to expect from each general.” who pulls a holodisc from a pouch kept around his waist and turns it on, presenting it to the man beside him. it’s a picture of general windu, his face frozen in a stupefied daze of perplexion. “here’s our first moments with the 91st several months back. it was my favorite, but skywalker’s becoming a high contender for the best reaction in my book.”

rex removed his helmet and lightly thwacked who with it. “general skywalker’s a smart man, he’ll figure it out soon.”

general skywalker did not, in fact, figure it out soon.

“who is my commander!”

“i’m asking you who your commander is!” anakin was dumbfounded as to why you were asking him, a man who has never seen your troopers a day in his life, the name of your commander. he’d have to get kix to check you for a concussion before you left because this wasn’t normal.

you let out a good-natured sigh before continuing your explanation. at this point you could tell it was going to take anakin a little while to understand the concept of your men’s names and hoped that kit would be okay with you running a bit late for your rendezvous. “that’s the man’s name!”

“that’s who’s name?”

“yes.”

“well go ahead and tell me!”

“that’s it!”

“your commander’s who?”

“yes.”

lavender hurriedly shushed cornflower blue in mixed efforts to contain the laughter. if anakin noticed the commotion around him it wasn’t acknowledged, much to the relief of everyone privy to the scene playing out.

fives was most definitely recording his general making a fool of himself and intended to spread it like wildfire across the arc trooper communication channels. to fives’s distant left, a fellow arc trooper from your battalion was doing the same but in slightly better quality. see, because has been through this scenario plenty of times to know how to keep his footage from getting shaky. the five-oh-first arc trooper, however, had no such advantage, his hud shaking periodically from his chortling.

“look, all i’m trying to figure out is who responds when you’re calling for your commander!”

“yes!”

anakin fixes a glare on you and you returned it with more mirth than was probably warranted. the last time a fellow jedi had been so cross at this situation was back when you were working with master windu. the man had so little patience these days that if he still had hair, it’d have probably fallen out during your last encounter with him.

when because sends you the footage of this latest introduction, you’d have the perfect reason for your tardiness. you’d also be equipped with a way to make your former master smile and a bribe to convince kit to take you for a swim.

“look, general, all i’m trying to find out is what’s the name of your commander!”

“no, what’s the name of my captain!”

“i’m not asking who your captain is, i’m-“

“who’s my commander!”

“one trooper at a time!”

behind his helmet, fives is crying from holding his laughter, and it’d be a correct assumption that most of the five-oh-first is doing the same as well as some of the shinies of the twenty-fifth.

“don’t change my men around!”

“i’m not changing anyone!”

“take it easy there, anakin.”

anakin wouldn’t admit this to anyone, but he has no karking idea what kind of banthashit is going on here. “what’s the name of your commander?”

“no, what is my captain! i’ve said this already.”

“i’m not asking you who’s your captain!”

“who is my commander!”

“i don’t know!”

“he’s my sergeant, but we’re not talking about him right now.”

the sound of a helmet clattering to the ground draws your attention to where ba and jort are doing their best to silence a member of the five-oh-first with blue stripes on his face. the man in blue seems to be having a difficult time holding it together, judging by how he’s clutching his side and hunched, trying to fix his breathing.

anakin also turns toward the choking trooper and is worried when he sees hardcase almost on the ground. from what, anakin doesn’t know, but it doesn’t look good.

“he’s fine, generals! popping kernel just went down the wrong hole!” clever one, that jort was. always knew what to say at the right moment.

anakin, once he accepted that his man was okay, turned back toward you. if you weren’t so close to him you could fool yourself into thinking that his eye wasn’t twitching (it was).

“how did i bring up your sergeant?!”

“you mentioned his name, general.”

“if i mentioned your sergeant’s name, who did i say was your sergeant?”

you have to draw from the force to keep your expression neutral. maker, if you knew anakin would be this easily duped by your men, you would have requested to work with him much earlier into the war.

“he’s my commander.”

“what’s your commander?”

“what’s my captain.”

“i don’t know!”

“he’s my sergeant.”

“there i go, back to your sergeant!”

jesse’s hand snakes it’s way back into the bag of popping kernels kix held, the medic swatting at it blindly before moving the bag into the hand furthest from the cog-tatted man beside him. his eyes were glued to the scene in front of him, the general’s confusion making for wonderful entertainment. it made him forget for a moment that they were on felucia, also known as one of the worst hellholes a clone could be assigned to.

“all i’m trying to find out is who’s your sergeant?”

“why are you so insistent on making who my sergeant?” you can feel the force signatures of your men and at this moment, they’re so bright and happy it’s almost staggering.

“what am i making your sergeant?!”

“no, what is my captain, and who is my commander!”

“i don’t know!”

you remind skywalker the rank i don’t know holds with a quick shout of “sergeant!” and leave it there.

until anakin takes a deep breath to center himself, asking if you’ve got arc troopers.

“sure do.”

“give me their names.”

“why,-“ you try to give him the name of your arcs but he interrupts you before you can finish.

“i just thought i’d ask you!”

“well i just thought i’d answer you!”

anakin is losing his cool again and wonders to himself when you got so snarky. “then tell me who is your arc trooper-“

“who is my commander.”

“stop talking about your commander!”

if you weren’t such good friends with the jedi in front of you, it’d be safe to bet that you’d be sporting at least one black eye (if not a broken rib or two alongside it).

“give me an arc trooper’s name!” ‘now we’re getting somewhere!’ you think to yourself.

you answer him honestly, the same way you have been since you stepped off the laat/i. “why.”

“because!”

“oh, he’s an arc trooper too. how did you know?”

anakin sputters for a moment before quieting. he was trying to understand… whatever was going on. but so far, you weren’t giving him anything but a headache.

crappemm is approached by a member of the five-oh-first in arc gear. the man was surprisingly indistinct for a member of his battalion, no tattoos or facial hair to set him apart from the others. from what crappemm had seen and heard of the battalion he was set to work with on this hellhole, skywalker’s men were known for their out-of-this-box methods of setting themselves apart.

this one, however, seemed to keep things simple. 

crappemm loves his crazy brothers, there was no doubt, but sometimes he can’t handle the constant noise and hubbub that chased his vod’e like flies chased honey. being around this one was refreshing, to say the least.

the arc trooper was amused by what was going on, but the difference between this one and the others was that he wasn’t letting his emotions take over. he kept his composure and was quiet, the only thing breaking the stoicism was a smirk and the occasional light shaking of his shoulders. crappemm was gonna stick around this one.

“please tell me this is really happening and i’m not hallucinating.” the lavender man was so caught up in enjoying the lack of cackling from beside him that he almost missed the words directed to him from the man in blue.

“well vod,” crappemm set a hand on the arc’s shoulder with a grin, “i’m happy to report that this is actually happening in real time.”

the arc sighed in relief. “thank you. i didn’t think i was capable of thinking of something this bloody crazy but it’s nice to be sure. the name’s echo.” echo extended a hand toward him and the other happily accepted it.

“crappemm.” they fall into an easy, comfortable silence as they enjoy the generals that were still going at it.

“look! you got a lieutenant?”

“sure.”

“the lieutenant’s name?”

“tomorrow.”

anakin was flabbergasted. he might as well ask one of your men for his name if you weren’t going to tell him. then again, what reason did you have to not tell him right then? “you’re not going to tell me today?”

“i’m telling you today.”

“then go ahead, tell me.”

“tomorrow.”

“what time?”

“what time what?” anakin was beginning to talk you into circles, which is something no one has ever been able to do the entire time you’ve played this game with your men. you weren’t supposed to be the one asking questions, that was his part in this!

“what time tomorrow are you going to tell me who your lieutenant is?”

ah, that’s what he meant. “now listen, who is not the lieutenant.”

your fellow general threw his arms up in frustration barely contained. “i’ll break your arm if you say who’s your commander one more time! i wanna know, what’s the lieutenant’s name?”

“what’s my captain’s name!”

“i don’t know!”

“sergeant!”

you can tell it’s getting harder for some of the men to not give in to the urge to shriek and guffaw and cackle and roll on the ground holding their sides. sithspit, it’s getting hard for you to keep a straight face through all of this.

nearby, commander who shakes his head at the captain of the five-oh-first. “i thought you said your general would get it, rex.” the tease was evident in his voice and it wouldn’t have taken a genius to know just how much he was taking pride in his jetti’s ability to fuck with “the hero with no fear” so profoundly.

rex shrugged noncommittally. “i thought he would’ve understood by now too, but i guess not.”

who chortled and patted rex’s shoulder almost in sympathy (a vod that didn’t know who as well as he did would have thought so, but not rex). he playfully pushed the hand away and refocused his attention to his general.

“so if i were going down the chain of command, the first one i’d give orders to would be who?”

“now that’s the first thing you’ve said right since i got here!” you don’t even acknowledge the fact he said this as a question because he was right! finally!

anakin didn’t seem to like your reply. that was made clear when he shouted, almost at the top of his lungs, “i don’t even know what i’m talking about!”

there were a few snorts of laughter from all sides and some of yours were smart enough to make some sort of noise to cover them up. if anakin caught on now, the whole thing would be screwed.

“all you gotta do is give the orders to the commander!”

“and who’s going to act on the orders?”

“naturally.” you think he’s starting to get it but you aren’t sure. he’s getting closer though, which is a relief as much as it is bringing an end to the prank.

“look! when i have to give a command, somebody’s gonna have to act on it! who carries out the order?!” wait a minute, never mind. he was still oblivious. if kit didn’t like this video he was going to have your ass for being late. you’ve gotta at least try to help the poor guy now that your ass is on the line (you’ve never had to do this before, usually whatever general gets too exasperated to keep it going as long as anakin has).

“naturally.”

“naturally?” he asks once again.

“naturally.” you confirm.

he ponders this for a moment before continuing, “so i should expect my order to be carried out by naturally.”

“no, you don’t! it gets done by who!”

“naturally.”

“that’s different.”

he was using naturally as a name instead of a state of being, a description, which is what you were trying to get through his head. however, it was having the opposite effect.

jort has never heard this particular turn of events and he was thinking that after today, there would be a shiny named naturally that would make his way into the affections of question company. he honestly couldn’t wait for the day and told ba and hardcase the same. they nodded and ba had thrown out the number designation of a shiny that had been weaseling his way into his good side as a good candidate for the name before returning their attention to the fiasco that was their generals.

“that’s what i said!”

“you’re not saying that!”

“i give the command to naturally!”

“you give the command to who!”

“naturally.”

“that’s it.”

“that’s what i said!”

how much longer was this going to last? kit said he needed you for something time-sensitive and you had to set time aside for the mishaps that you knew would always happen when you went to do important stuff. you were a magnet for weird shit happening and this conversation is a symbol of said weird shit.

with a deep breath, you continue. “listen. you ask me.”

anakin’s reply was quick and certain. where did he get the confidence to talk like he knew what he was talking about? probably an obi-wan thing. “i give the order to naturally.”

‘ugh, not this again!’ “no you don’t, you give it to who!”

“i give the order to who?”

“naturally.”

“same as you!” it’s not the same context but it seems that anakin is too busy trying to wrap his mind around this insanity to put the pieces together.

“okay,” anakin continues, “i give the order to who and whoever goes and passes the order to what! what sends it down to i don’t know, and i don’t know passed the information to tomorrow!! perfect flow of command!”

you nod, encouraging him to keep going.

“now let’s say i need some recon done before we make a plan of attack.” anakin’s trying to analyze the shitshow you threw in front of him as logically as he can with the budding headache. “i give an order to because! why? i don’t know, and i don’t kriffing care!”

that last bit was unexpected. “what’d you say?”

“i said, ‘i don’t kriffing care!’”

“oh, he’s our best sniper.”

anakin let out a yell of anger and bafflement you’d never heard from him before. you turned toward the laat/i waiting patiently for you to board and climbed in, sending a trickster’s smile to the men you were leaving behind.

your friend had clearly given up, his head almost dropping from his inability to comprehend whatever it was you were going on about. he’d figure out their names on his own since you weren’t going to be of any help.

while en route to where kit had wanted you to meet him, you received a holocomm from a mirthful general kenobi who could barely contain his laughter. he must have seen the holo of his former padawan you reasoned. he promised to not share it with other generals as long as you found another way to bring anakin down a couple pegs next time you saw him.

[bilgisticallykosher]

4: Hot Dog'd to Death. 

The boys chase their dreams of joining Joey Chestnut in the MLE hall of fame.

TA Masterpost | Masterpost | AO3

First Chapter | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

I reveal the Amy of Thomas Annus!!! And stick around for the end notes for an exciting announcement!

Word count: 5094

Warnings: General warnings found on masterpost. Food, messy eating, mentions of nausea/vomiting, overuse of the word wiener, and (bad) math. 

THOMAS ANNUS, THOMAS ANNUS

Janus and Remus stood in a familiar looking kitchen; the one where they ate during the second video, not the one where they cooked. Janus was getting a bowl from the cabinet, while Remus held a bunch of plastic packages in his hands. He jiggled them as he stood, tapping his foot as he waited for Janus to finish. 

"Stop that," Janus turned towards the sink, bowl in hand. He began filling water into the bowl. "You're going to drop them, and we need as many as possible if we're going to do this right." He turned the water off, leaving the bowl in the sink. 

Remus stopped jiggling the packages, setting them onto the counter by the sink. A close up from the camera revealed eight packages of hot dogs. "Now, are you going to cooperate and open them, or is this too much for you to handle?" Remus gasped. 

"How dare you imply that I can't handle my wieners?!" Janus nodded. 

"Then here." He plopped a pair of children's safety scissors by him, then turned towards the camera. "Today we're going to attempt to match, if not beat," he thrust his finger up into the air, enthusiastically, then lowered it to continue, "the Major League Eating, or MLE, record for hot dogs." 

"Because anything can be a sport if you get a judge involved!" Remus grinned. 

"Not anything," Janus corrected, "I'm pretty sure your 'Most Dangerous Game' idea was several types of illegal." 

"Naaaaaaw," Remus waved the concept away like there was a fly in his face. "I don't think there's anything wrong with shark-water-skiing-while-scorpion-juggling, I just think the world wasn't ready for my genius." Remus got a faraway look on his face. Janus sighed, and pulled out his phone. 

In the background, Remus stared for a moment, shook himself like a wet dog, then blinked as he looked down at the counter. He picked up the scissors and a package of hot dogs. He attempted to start opening them, but to no avail. "The number of hot dogs eaten, buns and all, in ten minutes," Janus recited. Remus put the scissors down, choosing instead to bite the corner of a package instead. "The record is 75 hot dogs," Remus stuck his finger through the plastic. "Set by Joey Chestnut, professional eater." Remus looked delighted in the background, and stuck three fingers from his other hand in three more packages. "He set this record in 2020, at Nathan's annual hot dog eating contest." 

Remus lifted his hand and slowly crept towards Janus. "The question is; can we break that record?" Remus struck, making a slapping motion across Janus's cheek, hot dogs jiggling in their packages. "What the actual hell do you think you're doing now?" Janus turned immediately towards him, accusing. 

"Thought your sharp cheekbones might help open the packages," Remus replied easily, unabashed. 

"Just open them into the bowl," Janus hissed out. Remus went back to do so, swinging his hips as he went. He split open the package from the hole he made, pouring them into the bowl. 

"Hey, look!" Remus gestured to one of the empty packages still on his finger. "They're packs of eight, just like the buns," he pointed out. "Not like how it used to be where they'd be seven, but the buns would be eight. Nice touch!"

"Of course," Janus waved his hands dismissively. "I'm not buying into the conspiracy of uneven packages where you keep having to buy one to keep up with the other; an endless cycle of trying to break even." He scoffed. "Plus, less math involved."

"Good call."

The scene ended, then opened up on the two of them staring at the microwave. The bowl was already in it. They were arguing. 

"Listen," Remus insisted, "There are eight packages in there, so if it takes five minutes for one, it should take forty minutes to do them all together!"

"Five minutes?" Janus's jaw nearly dropped, "it takes half a minute a hot dog!"

"Okay, fine, so then thirty seconds multiplied by eight dogs is two hundred and forty." He tilted his head to the side, "So, wait, it'd be two minutes, forty seconds, right?"

"Oh, well," Janus scoffed, "why not just put it on for two hundred and forty minutes?"

"Hey, I may be a stupid, dumb idiot, but I'm not stupid!" He sniffed haughtily. "Two hundred and forty seconds, times eight packs, that's one thousand nine hundred and twenty seconds. Divide that by the number of seconds in a minute, equals thirty one minutes and sixty seconds!" Remus concluded smugly. There was a pause as Janus stared at him, glare becoming more intense with each passing second, Remus was unmoving, although he seemed to realize that there was something going on, and he raised both eyebrows. Janus seemed to be winding up, fingers curling in, clawed, body inflating with his inhale. 

"WH-"

The video cut again. Janus and Remus were standing there, calmly smiling at the camera until the microwave beeped. Remus turned away to check on it, gave the bowl a small jiggle, and then closed the door. 

"It's not ready yet." He turned to Janus. "So, four minutes, right?" Janus turned around, leaning his head on the fridge, massaging his forehead. 

"It's going to be a long year, isn't it?" Janus groaned as Remus put the microwave on again. "A long, long year."

"Well, the 'dogs are cooking." Remus gestured to the microwave, which was running. "Yeah. That's right. 'Dog. Apostrophe-dog. It's short for hot dog." He winked. Janus turned back around to compose himself. 

"We should, perhaps, consider some manner of stain-guard," Janus mused. "Some of us are, ah," he glanced at Remus, who had put a leftover package in his mouth, sucking on it. "Mess-prone."

"Ooh!" Remus held out his hand in front of him, opened his mouth and let the package fall out onto it. "I've got a bunch of spare clothing that would be perfect for this!" He shifted back and forth on his feet. 

"Alright," he sighed, rolling his eyes, "let's see what trash rags you've got in store for us." Remus yelped in glee, running off. 

The microwave went off a few seconds later, and Janus opened the door with a click, letting the steam out. He waved a hand through the air, giving a little cough. "There. Perfectly cooked, just as we had it planned from the beginning." Janus took a hot dog from the bowl, holding it lightly by one end, then looked directly at the camera. "Joan. You want a hot dog?" The camera viewpoint moved back and forth, like it was shaking its head. Janus grabbed a package of buns, dangling it so that it got in-frame. "Are you sure? We can afford one without messing up our record." The camera moved up and down, nodding.

"Well," Janus shrugged, "if you insist." He tossed the tube of meat back into the bowl with a quiet plop! Remus gave a long scream from off-screen, indicating his imminent return. He came in running, arms hanging at his side, something bunched up in his hands. 

"I've got our eating ponchos!" He proudly lifted his arms up, opening his hands, revealing what he was carrying. 

"These are garbage bags."

"Color-coded garbage bags," Remus corrected. "See? I've got one in black, for me," he held up what looked like a large black drum liner in one hand, "and one in white for you!" He held up his other hand, displaying a white kitchen trash bag. "We're stylin'!" He gripped both bags tightly as he bounced in excitement. 

"Alright," Janus sighed, "I guess." 

"Also, yours only came in a large," he unfurled both bags, revealing Remus's to be much larger. 

"It's okay, you'll grow into it."

"I'm a growing boy!" Janus snorted. 

"You're a messy boy." Remus's face lit up, and he opened his mouth, eyebrows already waggling. "No, I already regret that. Moving on." Remus deflated, pouting. 

"That episode was boring," he whined, leaning his head on Janus's shoulder. "I kept throwing my ideas out there and all the real good ones weren't even mentioned." 

"Hey," Janus looked down at him, "listen," his voice and expression were soft as they locked eyes. "Don't touch me." Remus leaped up, holding the bags high above his head. 

"Let's go fill our mouths with weineeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee-" 

The video cut, then opened again on Janus sitting down, and Remus standing behind a large table filled with plates of plain hot dogs, and another with hot dogs, loaded and ready to go, already inside the buns. There was also a full Brita filter, with two cups. The sides, themselves, are now wearing the garbage bags, holes around their heads and arms, like very poorly constructed ponchos. "-eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeers!" Remus finally concluded, plopping down in his seat.

He looked at Janus, grabbing a hot dog, "So, ready to eat?"

The video paused on the scene, Remus in the middle of gesturing with the food, Janus looking harried. Text filled the screen while cheesy elevator music played in the background. Video editor here. I'd just like the record to state that Remus did not shout 'wieners' twice. That text disappeared, more came on. He kept the scream going for the entire 20 minutes it took them to get set up and ready. The last bit of text replaced it. Thank you. That stayed on the screen, and then at the bottom right, a quick help me flashed in and out before the scene resumed. 

"I suppose," Janus sighed, grabbing the hot dog, placing it out of reach, "But we do need to discuss strategy. If we're going to beat Chestnut at his own game, we need to think like him; but smarter."

"Ha! Chestnut, more like chestesticle." Remus grabbed two more hot dogs triumphantly. 

"Oh, yes, well done," Janus overexaggeratedly rolled his eyes. "That's given us all the ammo we need to tackle this challenge." He raised an eyebrow while glaring. 

"No, no, but these are the strats!" He pushed the hot dogs at him, buns squashing into his chest. "They always dunk them in water to make them squishy and gross and easier to slide down our gullets without chewing. Like pelicans!"

"Well, if we're going to beat Chestnut, we've got to think like him, I suppose." He grabbed a hot dog from Remus's hand. "What are our thoughts on condiments?"

"Well," Remus readied his hot dog as well, "I don't think they use them in the MLE, but I'd be down for some honey mussie."

"Some what?" Janus raised an eyebrow and smirked, amusement in his expression. "Honey muscle?"

"Well, I was talking about the condiment," he leered Janus's direction, "but now I'm thinking I want to pour honey over your arms and lick it off." 

"Oh, stop," he coyly put a hand on his chest, "save some of that ravenousness to put towards our goal."

"Yeah, let's kick Joey Chestnut's ass through his wiener!" He looked down at his hot dog, then pouted. "I still want some mussie, though." He got up from the table, "You want smushed, sweetened tomato squeeze bottle?" 

"Yes, alright, bring some ketchup, too." He watched Remus exit. A small stopwatch popped up in the corner of the screen, edited in, while the video fast forwarded. Janus, sped up, laid his hot dog down, then put his head on a hand. The stop watch showed the passage of thirty seconds, Janus started drumming his fingers, then a minute, and then as the video went back into normal speed, the sound of clanking came from the kitchen. Janus blinked, "Wait, what mustard are you bringing?" He waited for an answer. "Remus, what mustard are you bringing? What are you doing in there?!"

"Whaaaat?!" Remus shouted, unnecessarily loudly, "Sorry! Kssssh! Can't hear you! Kssssh! I'm going through a tunnel! Kssssssssssssshhhh! 

"Remus!" Janus glared in the direction of the kitchen, then sighed, turning towards the camera. "It's not like I can stop him." He brightened a bit. "And it's only mustard, how bad could it be?" The corner of his mouth twitched. "I regretted that before I said it."

Remus swaggered back in then, ketchup bottle in his left hand, a jar full of what had to be mustard in his right. It was gloppy, yellow, and had flecks of something floating in it. He plunked the mustard onto the table, leaving his hand on it as he sauntered back around the table into his chair. He put the ketchup by his feet. The stopwatch blinked 3:46 before dropping down off the screen. 

"I'm not giving you ketchup access until you try the mustard." Remus declared before picking up his hot dog. 

"Joy," Janus responded dryly. "I'll try to contain my excitement for its consumption." He picked up his hot dog and mumbled, "Let's hope I don't die of consumption."

"That's always a concern," Remus nodded solemnly. 

"You guys ready?" Joan asked from behind the camera. The two gave simultaneous nods, Remus's more excited than Janus's. "Alright, counting down, get ready in three, two, one… go!" Their finger pushed a button off-screen somewhere, a timer appearing on the screen, counting down from 10:00 as the button was pressed.

Remus held out his hot dog, waiting, looking at Janus, pleading. Janus caught his gaze, rolled his eyes, and held his own hot dog out.

"Cheers." Janus held his hot dog out slightly to Remus.

"Cheers!" He bumped his hot dog against Janus's in a toast, smooshing the bun a little. "Clink! A toast, even when the bun isn't!" And then he brought his arm back towards himself, smoothly biting half the hot dog clean off. Janus took a more delicate bite of his own. 

"Well, they're cooked," he mused. He chewed while he reached for the yellowish substance in the jar, "might as well get this over with." He swallowed, opening it up. He looked inside, and grimaced. "Oh no," sarcasm leaked from every word. "I've forgotten a knife, how will I ever manage to apply it now?" 

"Oh," Remus swallowed, "don't worry about it," he waved the idea off, taking another bite. "Jussh dunnkit!" He shoved what remained of his hot dog into the jar, bits of bun sticking in the concoction. He drew it out with a flourish. 

"Hm." He tapped the glass. "Oddly enough, I don't think that changed the consistency at all." He tilted it. "Or how appetizing it looks." 

"Thanks!"

"You grossly overestimate how appetizing this looks." Janus dipped his own hot dog in it, "emphasis on gross."

"Thanks," Remus leaned towards Janus, shoving the rest of his hot dog into his mouth, shimmying his shoulders, and grabbing a second hot dog. A large green 1 hovered over his head, keeping score. Janus rolled his eyes, and finally leaned in to take a small bite.

And immediately spit it out. 

He grabbed his glass of water, downing half of it in one go. "Uh uh uh," Remus waggled his finger at him, grabbing another hot dog. "Can't get into the MLE with negative dogs," he cackled. The counter above Janus sprang to life, -1 hovered in gold. Bits of hot dog crumbled out of Remus's mouth. 

"Shove it," Janus took his own advice, shoving the rest of the hot dog into his mouth. The counter flipped to 1 as he chewed angry and determined. "Wha' di'joo make this ou' of?"

"Oh, it's simple, really. I couldn't find anything but dijon." He took another large bite as Janus reached for his second. He swallowed the bite whole. "So I took that, added honey, because honey mussie. But then, it wasn't the right color, so I added yellow food coloring." He bit another section of hot dog off, swallowing it immediately. "But then! There's spicy brown mustard, right, so I added some red pepper flakes!" He stuffed the rest of the hot dog in, and swallowed, his arms above him, triumphant. "Ta-dah!" Remus's number went up to 2.

Janus had been silently eating his second hot dog. His brow creased at him. He swallowed. 

"Shut up and give me the fucking ketchup."

"Hey, uh, does the MLE have a chewing requirement?" Joan asked, amusement in their tone as Remus grabbed his third. "I mean, that was impressive, but I'm pretty sure that people are expecting that sort of display out of Janus, because of the whole snake thing, y'know?"

"Don't be racist." Janus shot at them. They just laughed. Janus went back to eating, holding out his hand for the ketchup. 

"Oh, all right, spoil sport." He grabbed it from underneath his chair, and placed it in his hand in one smooth motion. "Hey, can you imagine the kitchen before a hot dog eating contest?" Janus made a face as he finished off his second, a 2 lighting up over his head. Remus dunked his in the mustard mixture again, seemingly happy with his life choices. "What do you think it's like?" Janus grabbed another hot dog, and put ketchup on it. 

"Giant microwave," Janus flatly stated, taking a bite. Remus howled with laughter, even as Janus continued to not react. When Remus calmed down enough, he took another bite, and swirled his glass of water. 

"Should we do the dunk-y thing?" He asked, already stabbing his hot dog into the water. 

"I suppose," Janus took a bite. "Might as well do it like the professionals." He dunked his hot dog into the water as he chewed, watching as Remus chewed through his soaked bun with no resistance. His eyebrows constricted as he readied himself, taking a bite. 

"T'a p'ofeshhha's a' disga‐in'!" Soggy hot dog bun oozed out of the corners of his mouth. An edited translation blipped on screen, The professionals are disgusting!  

"Oh, definitely." Remus finished off his piece, 3. "Just look at my glass!" He grabbed another hot dog and shoved his water glass into the camera, which zoomed in, showing a swirling mess of yellow congealed mustard bits floating around mushy bun bits. "It's like the second most delicious lava lamp there is." He retracted the glass back to himself. 

"What's the first most delicious?" Janus halfheartedly asked. 

"Actual lava lamp." Remus brought a bunless hot dog near his mouth. "Third most delicious is a lava lamp made with actual lava." He chomped through the hot dog. Janus was making his way through his own, and pointed his finger at him accusingly. 

"Bun on or it doesn't count." He dunked his hot dog again. "Naked dogs are illegal in the MLE." He looked down into his glass. "There's ketchup in the water." He wrinkled his nose. 

"Don't get your scales all rumpled." He slapped a bun down onto his plate, pouring half of the water on it. "My wiener might be streaking out in the open, but I'm on the up and up!" He poked at the bun, which leaked water, nodded to himself, then grabbed a straw. He slowly sucked up the wet bun through the straw, which worked surprisingly well.

"Thank goodness, I thought you were going to snort it." Janus put the last bit in his mouth. 3 over his head.

"Hey, it's just gotta be in me, right?" He slurped up the rest of the mush on the plate, gulping it down. 4 for Remus. "Nobody said anything about not being allowed to drink it!" Janus loaded his next hot dog. 

"I think I'll stick with my methods." Janus applied a bit of ketchup to the hot dog before dunking it. He took a bite.

"You think this counts?" The camera focused on Remus, now with two hot dogs up his nose. "I could probably fit more."

"I'm pretty sure they need to be in your mouth." Janus finished chewing, executing another dunk bite. "Wonderful effort, though."

"Okay!" Remus opened his mouth and started to methodically place hot dogs, without buns, in his mouth. The first seven fit without problem. Then he stared to have to finagle them to fit. Janus watched idly as he continued with eating his hot dog. 

"I'm going to put you and Joey Chestnut in your places." He looked down at the hot dog, dunked, and took a bite. "Urgh." He flicked the remainder of it over his shoulder. "Done." 3 ½ now floated over him. He grabbed another one.

"Aggaura ag ak gahagarra!" Remus shouted through the hot dogs in his mouth. The translation subtitle came up, simply reading ???????? 

"Oh, like you're doing much better," Janus retorted. "What's your count up to?" Remus held up a finger, indicating to wait, and then abruptly bit clean through his mouthful. The action was blurred in a censor. He spit out the rest of what was in his mouth and hot dog halves flew all over the table. 

"I've got twenty four, not including the ones that were up my nose!" Janus tapped his own nose. 

"Speaking of, you've got a little something there." He gestured to the hot dog still lodged in his nostril. "Also, you're counting halves as one. That's definitely against MLE rules."

"The MLE can eat my wiener," Remus declared firmly, yanking the hot dog out of his nose and biting it. 

"You have to actually eat them." Remus smacked the rest of the nose hot dog against Janus's shoulder. He ripped it out of his hand. "This is a competition, you idiot!" 

"Oh really?" Remus sneered as he started to roll some of the hot dog halves into his hair like curlers, occasionally popping one in his mouth. "Because we started out with eight packages of eight dogs," he argued through his chewing. "That's only sixty four, total. If ole Boobball's record is seventy three, we've already failed!" He stuffed a bunch of buns in his mouth to make up for the bunless ones. 5 for Remus. 

"No, shut up. I will beat him!" Janus picked up his hot dog. "I hurt. Even picking this up hurts." He looked the camera dead on. "Joan," he started, serious, "If we die from overdosing on hot dogs, you have to finish this yourself. You've got to finish filming, and you have to edit this all by yourself." Joan's laughter trickled out from behind the camera. 

"Okay."

"And Thomas Annus." Remus piped in. He grabbed another hot dog bun. He ate it like corn on the cob from one side to the other.  

"Right, you've got to carry out Thomas Annus the rest of the year." Janus put his arms on the table letting his head fall into them. "You need to film, edit, and upload all the videos on the channel." 

"Alright," they agreed. "All hot dog videos, right?"

"Three hundred sixty plus videos of nothing but hot dogs is ridiculous." Remus argued. "Throw some sausages into the mix, yeah?" He stuck a hot dog in front his mouth, and chomped it bit by bit, imitating Pac-Man. He even made the mouth flapping noises. Remus's number went up to 6 1/2. 

"Have that bastard Joey Chestnut help you." Janus grumbled. "This is all his fault anyway."

"Yeah! OKAY, GOOGLE!" Remus screamed, readying another hot dog. "CALL JOEY CHESTNUT!"

'Calling Joy of Chestnuts ' the device responded. 

"No," Janus stepped in. "Okay, Google. Call Joey Chestnut." 

'Calling Joe Chessrug.'

"Hey, Google." Janus said through gritted teeth, "Call Jo-ey," he breathed in, "Chest," he breathed out, "nut!"

'Calling Jerry from Chesapeake.'

"NO!!!!" Remus was in hysterics. Janus turned on him immediately. "Did you do something?! Is this your fault?!" Remus cut off his laughter, leering at him. 

"My fault? So quick to blame me, are you?" He stuffed the last piece in his mouth, and grabbed another hot dog, offended, "as if I can't be trusted, is that what you're saying?"

"Yes," Janus glared. 

"Okay." Remus shrugged, any offense disappearing off his face completely. He stared at Janus, as he slowly, slowly started lowering the hand with the hot dog, until his other hand slowly grabbed the waist of his pants. He pulled it away from his body. 

"No, no," Janus grabbed his wrist, effectively halting him. "The dogs must be ingested via your mouth," he tutted. "Even if they end up inside you, they have to be consumed the normal eating way."

"Aw, poopy."

"That either." Remus pouted, and held out the hot dog towards Janus, shaking it gently. "Come on. You can do it. A few more bites?"

"No, go away. I hate food." Remus just grinned and shook the hot dog more. "Fine, then you have to suffer, too." He grabbed his own hot dog, and held it up to Remus, who gasped. 

"How romantic! Shoving our wieners in each other's faces?" He sighed dreamily. "Come on, then, let's do this right." Janus stared blankly at him, still looking a bit nauseous, but held his arm out a little bit, letting Remus wrap his hot dog holding arm around Janus's elbow. He let his mouth hang open, allowing room for Remus to place the hot dog in, and he took a bite. While he chewed, he looked into Remus's, well, gaping hole, and abruptly shoved the rest of his own hot dog messily in. Remus chewed with gusto, getting bits everywhere. 

"You're right. That was very romantic," he finished the last of it with a final bite, and wiped his fingers off on Remus's bag-covered shoulder. Remus finally swallowed his mouthload.

"D'aww," he batted his eyelids, "you know how I like my wieners rough and sloppy!" He picked up another hot dog. "Spaghetti, too!" He lightly sucked at the tip, before slurping the hot dog out of its bun, into his mouth. 

Then it came partially back out as he choked a little. He cleared his throat, then sucked it right back in. "Whaddya say? Wanna Lady and the Tramp this thing?" Remus tapped the plate of hot dogs, even as Janus began to look ill. "Emphasis on the tramp," he leered, waggling his eyebrows furiously. 

The timer hit zero just then, beeping its announcement of failure. Janus looked up as Remus put a hot dog under his nose like a second moustache. 

"Oh, no." Janus unenthusiastically put his hands on his cheeks. Remus mimicked him, tensing his upper lip so that he could keep the hot dog stationary. "And we were so close, too. Ugh," he put a hand on his head, "I've got the hot dog sweats." Remus stroked his meaty moustache. 

"What's the final count, Joan-dges?" He stuck out his arms in the camera's direction. There was silence. 

"Oh, was that supposed to be me?" Joan asked, amused yet confused. 

"Joan plus judges," Remus clarified. "So yeah! C'mon," he beckoned them with both hands. "What're the scores?"

"I have no idea," the camera moved ever so slightly as they shrugged. "I haven't been paying any attention. I think the editors worry about that." As they finished speaking a big yellow 4 1/2 hovered over Janus, and a big green 8 over Remus. Janus hesitated. 

"Well, look at those scores!" He gestured at his chest level. Remus looked down at his chest, too. The numbers hurriedly blinked out from over their heads to float where Janus was pointing. 

"Woah," Remus overexaggerated his surprise, "look at how many we ate!" He gave a small, yet innuendo-filled grin. "And violated."

"It looks like it's enough to beat the MLE record! Just like that! No problems at all!"

"Woo-hoo! Go us!" Remus stood. "Victory chest bump!" He started pulling Janus up by his arm. 

"No, please," he swatted his hands off, "I'm going to throw up all over you if any part of my front touches anything."

"Hmm, a little dirty, but I'd be down for trying anything once." Remus happily offered. He paused, "hey, who are the editors, anyway?" 

"I don't know," he stared at the camera. "Who are the editors? Who uploads these things? Who manages this channel?" He continued to stare off facing forward. Remus joined in, staring into the camera for a minute. 

"Oh well," the moment broke, "guess it's not important!" Remus shrugged. "What's today's lesson?"

"I don't feel nice."

"No, I mean our channel death lesson." He wiggled his fingers in emphasis. Janus groaned. 

"Ugh, fine." He adjusted himself so that he was sitting upright. "Death comes for us all," he intoned gravely, "especially if you eat a shit ton of hot dogs. Then it comes even quicker. But not as quickly as we'll be coming for you, Chestnut." Janus pointed. "Beware. Subscribe while you still can." Remus looked down at the platters. 

"Hey, what are we supposed to do with all these extras?" Janus shrugged, and Remus grabbed two. "Hot dog fight!" He reared back his arms, Janus protesting just as he threw them at him. The video ended as the first hot dog hit. 

The clock resumed its countdown. 

Endcard: 

Janus was outside at the swamp. He was carrying a tray filled with what appeared to be all the leftover hot dogs and buns. Silently, with a neutral expression, he threw the contents onto the surface of the swamp. 

A few tentacles shot out of the depths, gathering the food in one fell swoop, pulling it down out of sight. Janus calmly reached into the folds of his cape and took out the concoction that was Remus's jar of mustard, and tossed it in the same spot where that, too, was dragged under by a tentacle. Janus waited, and barely a moment later, the tentacle rose back up, and the now-empty jar was lightly placed on the shore.

Janus turned his head back to the camera. "Suck it, Joey Chestnut."

----------

First chapter since UA ended! So many feelings.

Anyway, I had some trouble writing this chapter, and while there were definitely external contributing factors, I think I need some more motivation. So! I've decided to create a discord server, come and join! I didn't figure out how to use role bots for nothing.

[mostlycompetentwriter]

You can STAY- Part Three

F/M Pairing: Y/N x Lee Felix (side pairing: Y/N x Stray Kids)

Word Count: 5.2K

Warnings: Language

Genre: Fantasy AU; Scarlet Heart AU; OT8 SKZ

Previous Parts: Part One, Part Two

Summary: Y/N has another unexpected confrontation with Prince Felix. But he’s also not her biggest problem, especially when she uncovers a potentially devastating plot that could completely unravel the royal hierarchy.

Taglist: @angelphantomlove​ @moonlightracha​ @staycarat0801 @jjabbur​ @pinkchcn​ @smolchild-lol @straykidbaby​ @moonnstars90​ @choisaemi @dru-shadow​ @skzooyeet​

It was still early that morning when I woke-up to the sound of someone knocking on the door to my bedroom. For a moment, I was too disoriented to respond, but the sound grew louder with the force of whoever was insistent about coming inside. Finally, I gave in and walked over to answer the door with a nonchalance that I’m sure reflected my drowsiness.

“Jeongin?” I questioned, surprised to see the younger standing on the other side.

“Hi, Y/N,” he said, and it was a timid greeting as he shuffled anxiously in the doorway. 

“Did you need something?” I asked, wondering why one of the King’s sons had went out of his way to visit me in my small dungeon bedroom.

“I, uh, wanted to make sure you weren’t busy today,” Jeongin said. “I'd like to visit the market again and try to sell my paintings.”

The request took me off-guard, and I didn’t know which I was more surprised to hear: that Jeongin wanted me to accompany him, or that the King’s youngest son made trips to the market to sell his artwork like he didn’t already have enough money. “I guess I can go with you,” I said.

“It’s mostly for protection,” Jeongin said. “Cuz’ of your powers and stuff...”

I grinned at his awkward conversation because it was strangely adorable to hear him stumble over his request. “I’d love to, Jeongin,” I said. “Let me get dressed and I’ll meet you outside on the bridge.”

Jeongin nodded in agreement and I gently closed the door to prepare myself for an impromptu trip into town.

It certainly sounded like a better prospect than resigning myself to another day of medicinal experimentation - searching for the cure that would alleviate Ella’s suffering. Ever since my encounter with Chan’s wife, I had been relentlessly searching my manuals and the records kept neatly arranged in the Castle’s library. However, despite my efforts, I was no closer to finding the answers than I had been during our first meeting.

Yet, I could never give-up on something that might help someone else in need, so I maintained my confidence that I just needed to look harder. But one day out of the confines of my bedroom couldn’t possibly hurt, especially since I had experienced an excruciating headache during the previous night after spending all afternoon hunched over my desk.

I nodded in self-determination, swiping my brush through my hair one more time before I left my room, walking upstairs alone with the company of my thoughts as I tried to focus on the task at hand. If Jeongin trusted me enough for protection, then I would do my best not to disappoint him. I had worked hard to fine-tune my powers for any case that might arise while I served the royal family, and I considered my fighting skills to be an enormous source of pride.

“You should feel privileged to walk so freely without care.”

I paused at the top of the staircase at the sound of an all-too familiar voice, and I frowned when Felix came into view while wearing an arrogant smile. “Forgive me, miss,” he said. “I don’t think I’ve had the pleasure of a proper introduction.”

“Then what do you consider our last meeting?” I asked him. “If I recall correctly, you insinuated that I would bring ruin to this Castle.”

“Of course not,” Felix said. “It was rather premature of me to base my opinion on a foolish disagreement with Seungmin.”

“I agree,” I said, keeping my tone neutral as I watched him come even closer. “Do you not believe such things anymore?”

“I find you perfectly elegant, Y/N,” Felix said. “You seem to prioritize your morals above everything else, and I can sense a profound loyalty for my family despite only just arriving a few nights ago.”

“Not so much your family,” I corrected him. “I serve the kingdom, and that means honoring those who lead it.”

“How righteous,” Felix said. “Consider me impressed by your character.”

“I wish I could the say the same,” I said, and I was pleased when Felix’s smile vanished.

“Have I done something to offend you?” Felix asked. “I apologized for my actions. Please don’t tell me that you intend to hold a grudge?”

“Consider it more of a casual suspicion,” I said, watching his green eyes narrow. “I’ve learned a lot about you since my arrival.”

“Is that so?” Felix asked, and I could tell that he was not appreciative of my comment.

I nodded as I remembered my conversation with Chan on the same afternoon when I met his wife - how he willingly opened up to me about his red-haired brother in exchange for a tentative promise to help his wife.

“I know that you aren’t wanted here,” I said. “I was told that your own mother tried to kill you when you were merely a child.”

“Where did you hear this?” Felix asked, but his tone wasn’t angry like I had been expecting; instead, he seemed unusually morose while he looked at me with sad green eyes.

“Does it matter?” I asked him. “How else should I look upon someone whose own father hated him so much that he sent him away to another kingdom?”

My words triggered a brief silence between us, and it seemed like they had a great affect on Felix, but I was still stunned when he reached out to grab my wrist - directing my hand over his heart. “Do you feel that?” he asked, and I slowly nodded. “I’m human, Y/N,” he continued. “This opinion you have of me matters because it’s made you forget that I’m flesh and blood like you. And I expected someone with your moral integrity to know better than to treat an equal as lesser, or to believe nasty rumors without understanding the whole story.”

I could feel my mouth fall open in shock, and I looked at Felix for the first time without a single ounce of judgment. But I still couldn’t help but remain stuck on one word in particular: “Equal,” I repeated.

“Do you not consider that accurate?” Felix asked. “As far as I’m concerned, we both live and breath and share the same experiences. And to address your other offense against me, I’d like you to understand that my mother is a wicked woman who has always favored her eldest son. She held him to the utmost regard while I was nothing but a mistake that she always regretted...Yes, my mother did try to kill me, but it wasn’t out of a sense of righteousness to rid this world of a perceived evil. And when she wasn’t successful, she gave me this scar that I hide from the rest of the world.”

I swallowed hard when Felix removed the black mask obscuring the left side of his face to reveal a diagonal line of jagged edges. “In actuality, she would’ve done anything to ensure that Chan had no competition to stand in his way of the throne. But look at how well that worked out for them both. Chan decided to marry a peasant girl and defy our father, and he deserves his lowered status because he needs to finally understand that his actions have consequences that can last for a lifetime.”

He finished his tirade with a heavy exhale before securing his mask back into place. “Look at us, Y/N. We’ve both decreed presumptive judgments of one another, and they’re entirely inaccurate.” He then lowered his gaze when he infiltrated my personal space - far closer than what might be considered appropriate. “Forgive me for all that I’ve done that forced you to seek these lies. Perhaps in the future, we can hold a civil conversation together.”

I closed my eyes, reeling from the onslaught of his confession. “Why are so insistent on defending these perceptions, Felix?”

“Because you came here with no outside bias against me,” Felix replied. “I refuse to see these royals feed you misinformation just for you to turn against me as well.”

“I suppose it almost worked,” I said. “But I’m still confused after listening to an entirely different side.”

“It’s my side,” Felix insisted. “Seek the truth for yourself, but keep in mind that the people in this Castle are all looking out for their best interests.”

“Aren’t you doing the same?”

“Yes, but you’ll hopefully come to find that I never speak untruths,” he said. “My mother is an insane liar, and her clever tongue managed to keep Chan in this castle after his marriage, even though the king decided to deny him the opportunity to take the throne. I’ve seen her behave this way for my entire life, and I once vowed to never be anything like her.”

He finally stepped away, and I was able to inhale without restriction. His grin returned as he observed me. “Despite what you’re thinking, my return to the castle was not predicated on ill-conceived intentions. There’s no reason to doubt me, Y/N, and for the record, I’d like you to know that you’ve fascinated me from the moment I saw you at the choosing ceremony.”

His final declaration rendered me speechless, and I found myself trembling when he offered me a discreet wink before returning in the direction from which he had arrived.

By the time the sun was at its highest point in the sky, Jeongin and I were carefully walking around the outskirts of the market - searching for the perfect place to set up his paintings. “I do this all the time,” Jeongin reassured me with a cute smile that was impossible to deny.

“Okay,” I agreed, admiring the usual bustle of the market as eager patrons searched for the best prices on the goods they required.

“Over there,” Jeongin suggested, pointing to an empty stall, and I followed him with a selection of his paintings secured under my arm. “Let’s organize them,” Jeongin said, and I carefully followed his instructions while also admiring the beautiful creations that he had crafted. 

“These are gorgeous,” I said, and he brightened at the compliment.

“Really?”

“Of course,” I said, tracing my fingertips across the texture of an oil painting. “They look so real.”

“My mother thinks it’s a waste of time,” Jeongin scoffed, gaze hardening for a moment as he stepped back to admire our efforts. 

“I think it’s creative,” I said. “It makes you stand out from the others.”

“Exactly,” Jeongin agreed. “Everyone else already has something that makes them unique, and I wanted my own thing.”

“Well, you certainly found it,” I said, pausing when I noticed an elderly woman approaching our collection.

“How much for this one?” she inquired, indicating a rather gorgeous recreation of the surrounding mountain range.

While Jeongin started negotiations, I took my time perusing the remaining pieces that he had brought with him. I could tell that he had put his heart and soul into faithful adaptations of the most random subject matter: everything from scenic portraits to little drawings of his family members. It was a fascinating dynamic to his character, and I wondered how long the prince had been painting because these looked far too advanced considering his young age.

“Are you serious!?” a hostile voice growled, interrupting my musings with a tone that alerted me to possibility of an impending confrontation.

“What’s going on?” I asked, coming to stand next to a fuming Jeongin as he glared at the man who was holding one of his paintings.

“This little brat thinks he can swindle me out of my money!” the man said. “The cost of this shit is worth more than my house!”

“Oh, I’m sure he’d reconsider the price,” I said, stepping closer when I sensed an opportunity to appease the tension.

“I won’t!” Jeongin declared. “That piece is incredibly valuable!”

“Of course, the bastard thinks that his royal blood makes everything he touches turn to gold.”

“That’s enough,” I said, lowering my tone. “You can look elsewhere if you can’t afford his price.”

“For your information, bitch, I’m looking in exactly the right place,” the man said, and I noticed him reaching for the sword secured at his side. 

I took a deep breath when I noticed that the men he had traveled with were also advancing on the two of us - raising their own weapons into the air. I narrowed my eyes and willed their swords to fly out of their hands - shocking both of his partners. “You might want to reconsider your stance,” I said to the first man, but his accompanying smirk caught me off-guard - like he wasn’t intimidated in the slightest by my magic.

“Maybe you need a lesson in manners too,” the man said, and I could barely formulate a response before I heard Jeongin shriek my name while a pair of arms wrapped around my waist. I could feel the breath escape my lungs, and then there was a hand over my eyes, preventing me from seeing what was happening, and I started thrashing around in the limbs holding me hostage. “Let me gut this stupid girl first,” the man said, and I could hear Jeongin calling for help as the sharp point of a sword teased the side of my throat. 

But the man never followed through on his promise, and I only realized a moment later that he had been compromised when I fell to the ground with a grunt. My hand went to my throat because I could still feel the phantom effects of the sword’s blade, and my eyes blinked rapidly as I saw two figures standing at the front of our stall - waving their swords with impressive skill and growling out insults. Apparently, Jeongin’s call for help had actually been answered, and I was relieved to see both Prince Chan and Prince Felix warding off the opposition. 

“Your business here is done,” Felix said, appearing nothing short of intimidating with his mask and sword.

“They should be so lucky,” the first man snarled, but he knew better than to continue a fight that he was destined to lose.

I watched him walk away before I realized that Felix and Chan were both hovering over me with matching expressions of concern. “Y/N?” Chan asked with a gentle tone.

“Thank you,” I managed to respond, flushing when I noticed that both Felix and Chan had outstretched their hands for me to take. But instead of forcing myself to make that decision, I rose at my own autonomy, glaring at Felix when he chuckled.

“They might not be so lucky next time,” one of the men called back, and he must’ve still been riding the waves of adrenaline when he chanced a step back in our direction.

“Get the hell out of here,” Chan snapped at the burly man who had helped attack us, and he grumbled in complaint but obeyed nonetheless. “Y/N,” Chan repeated, shoving Felix out of the way as he came closer. “Are you okay?”

I nodded while Felix scoffed. “What the hell were the two of you doing causing trouble like that?” 

“We weren’t causing trouble,” I said, and Felix smirked.

“Good,” he said in response. “After our conversation earlier, I would hate to discover that you had lied to me, Y/N.”

Chan frowned at that - glancing between me and Felix with a curious expression. “Let’s just get everyone back to the castle,” he said, and I agreed with one last glare in Felix’s direction.

The next morning, Anna woke me up early with a bright smile. “Good news,” she said, starting for my wardrobe. “The King has requested your presence at the tea ceremony today! They’re honoring Minho for his selection.”

I groaned around the exhaustion holding me captive. “Is this a request or a demand?”

Anna hesitated as she laid a dress across my bed. “Well, I wouldn’t ignore the King.”

“Of course,” I said, forcing myself to abandon the comforts of my mattress. “When will it take place?”

“This afternoon,” Anna said. “You should hurry and get dressed.”

I nodded quietly in easy compliance, watching Anna leave me to my own volition as I forced myself to put on the dress that she had left behind for me. It was fairly modest, but the sleeves had a very delicate lace lining them. I also spent a few moments in front of the mirror to check my appearance, which I never normally allowed, before I left my room to walk upstairs. 

It was suspiciously quiet in the corridors, and I found it strange because I remembered that the King’s wives lived in this area of the Castle. But it was pointless to assume anything, and perhaps they were already waiting at the ceremony with their sons.

However, my senses went on high alert when I heard two voices intermingling towards the end of the passage, and I pinpointed the noise coming from a single bedroom. Subsequently, I paused outside the room, glancing through the space between the door and the entryway to see Changbin and Queen Seo speaking together in low voices.

“You’ll be next to the King,” Queen Seo said, and she clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth as she examined Changbin’s outfit. “Do you remember the plan?”

“Of course,” Changbin replied. “I shall look for the handmaiden.”

“I’ll have her deliver the tea,” Queen Seo explained. “Once Minho drinks it...” She trailed off with a maniacal grin, reaching out to adjust Changbin’s hanbok. “My son looks so handsome,” she remarked. “Like a true leader.”

Changbin sneered at her words. “He thinks that Minho could possibly do better than me?”

Queen Seo shook her head as if she couldn’t believe it either. “Don’t trouble your mind. Tonight, we shall change his perception after we kill that little bastard.”

The promise held dangerous implications, and I stumbled backwards from the door in surprise. It was my sworn duty to protect the rulers of this Castle, and I had barely given the plot any further consideration before I was returning to my quarters.

Because I would ensure Minho’s well-being, even at the cost of my own position.

I was late to the tea ceremony as a result of my efforts, but I only received a stern reprimand from Ms. White before she escorted me to my seat next to Seungmin and Jisung. It also offered me an appropriate vantage point of Minho who I kept within my sights as everyone spoke around me with joyful tones. I had nearly forgotten that it was a celebration, and I found myself narrowing my eyes at Queen Seo and Changbin as they laughed together with the King like there was nothing wrong.

“You seem distracted.”

I slid my gaze away from Changbin - locating Seungmin as he leaned in closer to be make himself heard over the noise. “What did you say?”

“You know, Y/N,” Seungmin said, propping his chin against his hand. “I happen to like this color on you.”

I was surprised by his strangely flirtatious tone. “Excuse, me?”

But instead of replying to my query, Seungmin shot me a discreet wink and turned to Jeongin who offered his brother a friendly smile. The whole encounter was decidedly unusual, and I wondered if everyone in this Castle was startling to lose their minds.

“Don’t concern yourself with him,” Jisung said while nodding at his brother. “He’s a rare breed.”

I found myself smiling at the jest in spite of my concerns. “What can you possibly mean by that, Prince Jisung?”

“It’s his way of impressing you,” Jisung said.

“Impressing me?”

“He’s convinced himself that you only fight with him to hide your true feelings,” Jisung revealed. “Seungmin thinks you’re harboring secret affections.”

“I might’ve helped,” Hyunjin added from across the table, and I grimaced at the idea before reclining back in my chair.

“How remarkable,” I said. “He didn’t seem to like me.”

“Seungmin always acts that way around strangers,” Jisung said. “But he warms up to them eventually.”

“Don’t take it personally,” Hyunjin said. “And try not to hold it against him. He really does like you.”

“But why shouldn’t he?” a new voice contributed, and both Jisung and Hyunjin flinched when Felix suddenly entered the room - pausing at the end of the table. “Y/N is very interesting.”

I turned away from him, fanning my hand across my chest because my heart was doing something peculiar inside my chest.

The King, however, was furious. He stood and glared down at Felix with narrowed eyes. “What are you doing here?”

“Why shouldn’t I come?” Felix returned. “I’d like to celebrate Minho’s ascension to the throne. It’s what a good brother should do.”

“It’s alright, father,” Minho said, and I’m sure his words were shocking to most of the people at the table. “He can sit with us.”

“Very well,” the King relented, but he never took his eyes away from Felix as he sat down next to Hyunjin. “We shall begin.”

The King’s command summoned several handmaidens who brought inside the ceremonial tea for our consumption. Because of what I had discovered earlier, I kept a close eye on the handmaiden who served Minho - it was poisoned tea, and I had taken a potion earlier that should stop its effects. Since the potion contained a powerful chemical that was effective against all the traditional poisons I had studied, everything should be fine.

But there was a small risk that the queen had chosen a poison that could defy my potion, but I doubted that she would go to such great lengths.

“In honor of my son, Minho,” the King announced. “We shall drink to his health and vitality.”

I held my breath when everyone lifted a tea cup into the air, and I chose that precise moment to make my move.

“Your highness,” I intervened, coming around the table to grab Minho’s cup - ignoring the gasps of horror that echoed from the queens. “Shall I try it first?”

Minho blinked in surprise, looking at me like he couldn’t believe that I was standing over him. “I-I suppose.”

“In your honor, of course,” I added hastily before lifting the rim of the delicate cup to my lips. 

I could taste the poison as it slid down my throat, but I emptied most of the glass before wiping the remnants with the back of my hand. I sat the cup back on the table, swallowing hard when I felt the effects swim through my system. Thankfully, they were quickly assuaged by the potion that still lingered in my bloodstream. It worked just as I had imagined, and I reached out for Minho’s chair to overcome a brief bout of dizziness.

Everything was silent around me, but I forced a smile as I bowed to the King who was regarding me with a peculiar look. In the meantime, I was determined to finish the rest of the tea so that I could pour Minho something untainted. But I never anticipated further interruptions:

“I’d like to have the honor as well,” Felix said with a smirk, and I glared at him when he rose from his seat.

“It’s not necessary,” I insisted, but Felix jerked the cup away from me with an acute speed.

“But I insist,” Felix said, and he gave me a knowing look - one that said he was aware of the situation.

“Felix-” I tried again, but he had already lifted the rim to his lips - downing the rest of its contents with a sigh.

“Is this funny to you?” the King growled, and Felix simply chuckled.

“I’ve caused enough mischief for one afternoon,” he said, and he stumbled on his way to the exit. 

“Fool,” I whispered because I knew that Felix could potentially die without treatment. Thus, I bowed once again to the king before running out of the room in search of him.

It didn’t take me long to find him - collapsed in the remote corridor outside of the room.

“Prince Felix!” I gasped, and I ran the remaining steps before dropping down next to his crumbled form. “Are you insane?”

Felix rolled over onto his back, chest heaving, as he fixed me with a familiar smirk. “How is it fair that you get to have all the fun?

“You knew,” I hissed, cradling his head on my lap as I reached into my robes for the extra potion. “Drink this,” I insisted, holding the vile up to his pale lips.

Felix obeyed, consuming the potion before grinning up at me. “Are you furious with me, Y/N?”

“You absolute fool,” I said, resisting the urge to jostle the prince too much while he still fought to recover. “Why would you do something like that? It was poisoned.”

“But nobody would’ve ever known,” Felix said. “I do admire you, Y/N, but is it wise to stop the efforts of one plot when the same person might conceive of a dozen others?”

I sighed when I realized the wisdom of his words. “It’s a complicated matter,” I said, and the Prince narrowed his eyes.

I didn’t like the suspicious gleam in his gaze, especially when he leaned most of his weight against me for a closer examination. “You know who it is?” he asked, and his nose brushed against mine. 

“Don’t do this,” I pleaded with him because I knew that we were teetering precariously over dangerous ground with consequences that went beyond what either of us were prepared to face. It was a personal mattered that involved one of the King’s wives and her son - an issue that would lead to radical conflict.

“You won’t tell me,” Felix stated simply, and I thought I was in the clear until the prince opened his mouth again. “It must be very sinister. I’ll have to assume that it involved someone in that room.”

I swallowed hard and Felix smiled because I had just inadvertently given him the confirmation that he was seeking. “You shouldn’t meddle,” I warned him, shivering when his fingers traced along my lips.

“What I wouldn’t give to see inside that beautiful head of yours,” Felix said, and we both continued to stare at one another in awe.

But the moment was broken by the sounds of approaching footsteps, and I moved away from Felix just in time to see several guards running in our direction. “What’s wrong with him?” one of the guards demanded, and I hesitated because I had also noticed that most of the princes were arriving on the scene. 

There was every opportunity to stick to my original plan and keep everything incognito, but then Felix gave me a meaningful look, and I reluctantly relented. “He’s been poisoned.”

“Poisoned!” one of the guards exclaimed, and there was only chaos that followed. Just as I had suspected. But there were also Felix’s green eyes, and they managed to anchor me to the moment, even amidst all the noise and screaming. 

They were somehow reassuring, and I clung to them desperately when the King demanded my presence in the Throne Room.

It was an intimidating sight: kneeling before the King as he leered down at me from his throne. “Do you understand that you have no right to decide the fate of this Castle?”

I shivered at the underlying threat in his tone. “Your highness,” I said. “Forgive me. I thought it was best to solve this issue on my own as deemed by my duties.”

“Is this an admission of guilt?” The King asked. “Did you know what would happen before stepping inside that room?”

“Yes,” I said, closing my eyes and wondering if this would be my last day in the Castle.

“You knew of this plot but refused to speak up?” the King growled, and I lowered my head before him.

“Forgive me,” I once again requested softly. “I was afraid that revealing the complexities would cause the perpetrator to act out far more rashly.”

“My son almost died,” the King said, and I could see Minho shift in his seat from my peripheral vision. 

“My intention was to save him,” I said. “I wanted to let the assailant know that their plots will never work while I’m around to protect the royal family.”

The King was silent for a moment after my confession, and he considered me with a strange look. “I see,” he finally said. “I cannot punish you mage because your efforts saved Minho, but I must also give you a warning: the next time you learn of something so consequential, you will come to me and reveal everything.”

“Yes, your majesty,” I said, and I stood once more at his command. “I shall remember your words.”

“Very well,” the King said with a dismissive hand. “You may retire to your quarters.”

I made sure to offer him a polite bow before I was rapidly making my way out of the Throne Room - mind working a mile a minute. The brief intervention had allowed the the rare chance to speak to the King without his wives - one of which remained guilty of the plot to kill Minho. I could’ve spoken out against her, but there were far more complications to such an innocuous action.

Who would really believe me over the word of the Queen?

More importantly, would Felix say something about my hidden knowledge? Because he had somehow figured out that I was aware of the guilty party involved, and I had no doubt that he would question me in the future.

Yet, there were also more pressing matters to consider, such as the unexpected arrival of Minho who had somehow escaped the King’s notice. “Mage,” Minho interrupted, stopping me outside the throne room. “Could I have a word?”

“Of course, your highness,” I said, and I followed Minho as he led me further down the corridor to a quiet enclave.

“This is more private for our conversation,” Minho explained, and I was struck by the smile he gave me.

“I’m all ears, your grace,” I said, but Minho surprised me further by laughing, and he crowded me against the wall.

“I know you drank the tea to save me,” Minho said, and I startled when he reached out to touch the side of my face.

“Your highness,” I said, flushing at the unexpected contact. “W-what do you mean?”

“You don’t have to be coy with me, Y/N,” Minho said, and I gasped because it was the first time that he had ever used my real name. “I may not understand love, but I can tell when someone is trying hard to catch my attention.”

I nearly spluttered around my words when I caught onto his implication. “Y-you misunderstand-”

“Please don’t hide anymore,” Minho said, and I faltered at the desperation in his tone. “Perhaps when we get to know one another, I’ll consider bringing the prospect of marriage before my father.”

Marriage!? 

“You’re serious,” I said, and I struggled to form a single coherent sentence following Minho’s passionate declaration. 

“Shall we start tonight?” Minho continued as if I had never spoken, and his fingers burned a trail down the side of my face. 

It was obvious that he was lost to whatever perception he held of me, but I glanced to the side when I heard a noise that had not originated from myself or Minho. My eyes scanned the darkness, and I froze when I found myself caught in the snare of an intimate gaze. But I hesitated when I realized that those green irises belonged to Felix, and the look in his stare was impossible to discern.

[specterchasing-a]

Hold On (Part 2) || Eddie & Alfie

TIMING: One month ago, directly after part one.

LOCATION: En route to the woods.

PARTIES: @yikesimonfire​ & @specterchasing​

SUMMARY: Alfie and Eddie have a heart-to-heart in the car.

CONTENT: Internalized homophobia tw

Eddie mindfully secured his filming equipment in the trunk of Alfie’s odiously yellow station wagon. As he took a step back to close the hatch, an idea occurred to him. He hastily ducked back into the trunk and unzipped his bag to pilfer for his camera. Now satisfied, Eddie slammed the door shut and walked briskly to the car’s passenger-side. The moment he settled into his seat, a pronounced frown settled into his features.

“When are you gonna get your AC fixed?” Eddie implored, his gaze settling on his chaperone. “Every time I get in this car, it feels like the air’s been replaced by uncomfortably warm dog breath.” He refrained from adding that it smelled like it as well. Alfie didn’t need to be subjected to verbal beration of that magnitude after agreeing to accompany him tonight.

While Eddie packed his gear into the back, Alfie hopped into the driver’s seat, helplessly turning the ignition repeatedly until the engine sputtered to life. Immediately, he was hit with a blast of cold air before the air conditioning unit forgot how to work. The ration of cool air was quickly replaced with a suffocatingly stale breeze. Alfie stretched over to unlock the passenger door and cranked the window open before rolling his own window down to allow a more comfortable airflow. Soon enough, Eddie was in the seat beside him.

A laugh reverberated in his chest at Eddie’s comment. “What do you mean?” Alfie asked, emphatically waving his hand at the dashboard. “It’s doing its best. Besides, parts are hard to come by.” That’s what he got for being cheap. What he needed was a new car altogether, but that wasn’t happening any time soon. The wagon got him from point A to B; that would have to be enough. It wasn’t like he needed a functioning air conditioner anyway, not that Eddie was privy as to why. “We can always take yours,” he offered with a small smirk.

“I hate to break it to you, but its best doesn’t cut it. It needs to do another car’s best,” Eddie riffed while opening the viewer on his camera. With the press of a button, it became a diligent archivist of its owner’s per view. Without warning, Eddie lifted the device to eye-level and pointed it in Alfie’s direction. He knew well and good his friend didn’t enjoy being in the crosshairs of his filming, but that never stopped him in the past. Why would it deter him now?

“Trust me, I would love to take the Mini, but it’s… well, mini, and you know that. As quirky as your car is, it has better storage options.” Eddie’s voice lacked interest—he found himself too caught-up in recording to have any to spare. “You have a nice profile, have I said that before?” he asked, slipping further into his seat as he rested his feet on the dashboard. Meanwhile, his eyes (and camera) remained fixated on Alfie.

“Yeah, I don’t think that’s gonna happen,” Alfie chuckled as he shifted the car into reverse and eased out of his parking space. With his eyes now fixed on the path ahead, Alfie didn’t notice the camera focused on him. “You really should have considered that when you bought it. What would you do if I ever wasn’t around to lend my cargo space?”

The compliment that soon fell from Eddie’s lips made Alfie’s brow raise. His eyes flickered to look at Eddie, only to find that he was being filmed. “Wha— Christ’s sake, Eddie, would you turn that thing off?” A fire rose in his cheeks, coloring them a vibrant red. He quickly turned his head away, but was unable to avoid the camera’s watching eye. Damn it. He hated being recorded; Eddie knew that. “Or, I’unno… turn it somewhere else, at least?”

As the car reached the edge of the parking lot, Alfie applied the brakes and looked back at Eddie, the blush still prominent on his face. “And buckle,” he scolded — albeit playfully — with raised eyebrows. “Seriously, are you trying to get yourself killed?”

“Die, probably,” Eddie deadpanned. If he were to make an effort, his car could likely hold whatever necessities he needed it to. Alfie probably knew that, too. However, if he went that route, he wouldn’t be able to spend his time being a nuisance in the passenger’s seat. He much preferred reclining and filming to focusing on the road. A miracle happened the day he got his license, that much was certain.

Alfie’s reaction to being caught on candid camera inspired an impish grin from Eddie. He noticed the change of color in his cheeks—so did his heart, actually. It drummed desperately within his chest, as if also begging Eddie to rethink staring at Alfie for so long. Unfortunately, he rarely listened to what either of them had to say. “I can’t believe you hate art so much that you’d deprive me of my muse,” he said.

Eddie rolled his eyes, also playfully, when Alfie scolded him. “Not today,” he answered before he quickly switched his camera off and buckled in like he was told.

Deprived of his main source of entertainment, Eddie resorted to turning on the radio. Like everything else in Alfie’s car, the display refused to work properly. What should have been words and numbers looked more like hieroglyphs. Eddie briefly toggled through stations before a familiar tune (‘Hold On’ by Wilson Phillips) caused him to turn the radio off with evident disdain. 

A strange sensation tugged behind Alfie's navel at the suggestion that Eddie would die without him. It wasn't true, of course. With any luck, Eddie would go on fine without him; he had to. Still, the thought made him feel… guilty? Alfie's time in this life was growing increasingly limited. He couldn't afford to think about it now. It would only make the time he did have left with Eddie less worthwhile, for fear of causing him any grief. 

"Your muse?" Alfie nearly cooed. "Please—" his voice cracked. "I have complete faith that you'll find something better." Once again unable to make eye-contact with Eddie today, Alfie shook his head with a breathy chuckle and rolled his eyes. His attention was back on the road and as the seat belt beside him clicked into place, assuring Eddie's safety, Alfie merged onto the street to begin their journey.

It didn't take long for Eddie to begin fidgeting. He knew well enough by now that finding a suitable radio station in the station wagon was unlikely. Alfie wouldn't complain about the music as long as it kept the camera off him. But when Eddie abruptly cut the radio off, he successfully piqued Alfie's curiosity. 

"What was that about?" he asked, an impish grin tugging at the corners of his mouth, and his eyes darting between Eddie and the road. "You trying to tell me you hate Wilson Phillips or something? And you were just getting onto me about hating art," Alfie teased.

Alfie’s insistence that Eddie would eventually move on to something better almost made him laugh. For years, his thoughts revolved around his reclusive neighbor and not much else. Alfie and Youtube; that’s what filled his days since he moved downtown. “No, I won’t,” he gently corrected him. “Besides, I don’t want to.” It didn’t worry him to voice his genuine fondness for Alfie, not when they had years of friendship behind them. At this point, it would’ve been more alarming if he didn’t love the guy enough to negate his self-deprecation.

“Wilson Phillips is not art.” Eddie emphatically pointed a finger at Alfie. “Not that song, at least. ‘Hold On’ is trite and cheap. And, all it does is make me think about the time I spent in group therapy as a teenager when our counselor insisted on performing an acoustic version at the end of every single session. Every session, Alfie,” he looked at his chauffeur with bewildered eyes. “She even made eye contact with us while she sang—who does that? I never felt like I could look away, not when she was tearfully pleading with me to break free from the chains. It was torture. Wilson Phillips is torture, not art.”

Alfie didn't want to argue about how quickly Eddie would (or wouldn't) move on. No matter how much Eddie didn't want to, there would come a point that he would have no other option. Besides, Alfie playing the part of Eddie's muse was clearly a joke. Or, perhaps more accurately, a metaphor for their friendship. All that mattered was Eddie had not meant it in a literal sense. So why had he allowed himself to become so flustered over it?

"Bullshit!" squawked Alfie, who was now fully prepared to enlighten Eddie about his previous love affair with the early 90s pop scene. Before he had a chance to share however, Eddie shared his own history with the song. Alfie's jaw slackened and he shot Eddie an incredulous look. "Every session?" he parroted in disbelief. His face scrunched as he imagined what kind of hellscape that must have been. Being forced to listen to acoustic covers was bad enough, but on top of awkward eye-contact? 

"Okay, yeah… no. I see your point," Alfie softly spoke after a moment. "Who in their right mind thought she was still fit to be a counselor after the first time that happened, anyway? Like — I'unno, you'd think someone would've had to question her capability or whatever at that point." 

"Still," he continued after making a point to showcase his disapproval with a series of disdainful facial expressions. "I stand by what I said. I think there's something beautiful in wanting to turn around and say goodbye — much like how you must have felt after being subjected to that special brand of hell."

Eddie adopted a tight-lipped grin when Alfie conceded. “Every session,” he confirmed. Looking back, he couldn’t remember liking anything about group therapy. Owning up to his issues should’ve never been something that required an audience. As extroverted as Eddie could be, he kept his cards close to his chest when it came to his emotions. Alfie knew him better than anyone else and even he didn’t get the whole truth half the time.

Eddie let out a terse laugh at Alfie’s final comment. “Real cute,” he snarked playfully before his expression became more serious. “It didn’t help that I hated therapy in general. Not only did it well and truly suck to talk about my feelings, but the only reason my parents even made me go was the whole… ghost-vision deal.” Eddie emphasized his annoyance by accompanying the tail-end of his sentence with a flippant flap of his hand. “Funny, that they pegged the one thing that made me happy as the problem.” His brow raised as he pursed his lips.

“But, uh, wow—sorry about the impromptu sharetime,” Eddie said when shame began to collect in chest. “Don’t mind me complaining about therapy while simultaneously making you my therapist.” He hoped levity would be the cure for oversharing.

Alfie’s face lit up at Eddie’s initial response. “I’m the cutest, obviously,” he chided with a lopsided grin. He couldn’t recall any previous conversations about Eddie’s group therapy, but he was well aware of his friend’s relationship to his parents. Maybe he had mentioned it before; it was truly a testament to how solid Alfie’s active listening skills were. “Fuck your parents!” his voice trilled. “Seriously — when have they ever cared about your happiness?” His commiseration was probably unnecessary; Eddie didn’t need another reminder that his family were awful. “Sorry… too far,” he added with a small frown. 

With a clear road ahead, Alfie lifted a hand from the steering wheel and maneuvered it around to rest on Eddie’s shoulder. “Hey, man, don’t sweat it — really. I will gladly take an impromptu sharetime over an awkwardly silent drive to our inevitable doom.” His gaze shifted to Eddie as he gave him an apologetic smile, allowing his hand to linger a bit longer than was probably acceptable. “Besides,” Alfie added, gently squeezing Eddie’s shoulder before returning his hand to the wheel, “that’s what friends are for, right?” 

It wasn’t often that Alfie referred to them as “friends”. The word was scattered few and far between, but that didn’t make it any less true. “From now on, that song is banned. We don’t talk about it. We don’t listen to it. It’s purged from our lives. What song? Wilson Phillips, who? Never heard of ‘em!” Alfie tilted his head in Eddie’s direction and peered at him expectantly, waiting for some sort of positive reaction to ensure he’d sufficed at making his friend feel better. 

Eddie glanced at Alfie in surprised amusement after his initial outburst. “You’re right and you should say it,” he encouraged in a light-hearted tone that didn’t fit the topic. If he didn’t try to lessen the weight of the conversation, he might have to admit to how much it hurt to discuss. He couldn’t risk letting Alfie know the extent of his damage. 

When Alfie’s hand landed on his shoulder, Eddie felt a lump form in his throat. Usually, he initiated whatever physical contact they shared. He didn’t know how to react to being on the receiving end. Alfie’s mention of ‘inevitable doom’ managed to ease his uncertainty. Eddie replied with a soft huff of laughter, his eyes shining with fondness.

Soon enough, Alfie deprived Eddie of his hand, but didn’t give him much time to be upset about it. He called them friends. “Oh, is that what we are?” Eddie asked with a teasing grin. “Could’ve sworn our relationship was more like whatever Bugs and Elmer had going on.” His expression softened, though his grin remained throughout Alfie’s condemnation of Wilson Phillips.

“You’re…. You’re a really good guy, Alfie,” Eddie said. “Thanks for humoring me tonight.”

It didn’t seem appropriate to continue down the path of shit-talking Eddie’s parents, no matter how much they deserved it. Eddie didn’t enlist Alfie on this adventure just to talk about all of his woes. If he was going to do this, then goddamn it, he was going to make the best out of it. Eddie deserved that much. “‘Course we’re friends,” Alfie returned with a playful sneer. “Though, I think you’re way off base with that one. If anything, we’re more like Bugs and Daffy.” His eyes focused on the road, but his mind was lost in thought. “Actually—” Alfie corrected, “come to think of it, that’s really fuckin’ accurate. Just, y’know, don’t ask me who’s who.”

In an instant, Alfie’s eyes were back on Eddie. Immense guilt crept over him for trying to turn down the invitation in the first place. It was glaringly obvious that Eddie was trying to involve him in his life; something Alfie tried to avoid with just about everyone who did. His heart ached. He didn’t want to refuse Eddie, truly. There just happened to be parts of his life that were better off private. But it wouldn’t kill him to hang out with the guy more every now and then. Well, given Eddie’s track record, it very well could. But it would be worth it… RIght?

“Listen, Ed… I know I’m a pain in the ass. It’s not — I don’t do things like this, y’know? I stay at home like the grumpy hermit crab that I am and that’s how I like it.” Apologies were never Alfie’s strong suit. It was rare that the words “I’m sorry” ever made it out of his mouth. “But I’m already pretty glad I came with you.” Once again, he was dancing the conversation dangerously close to heavy. Alfie mentally berated himself; he needed to keep things light. “But if we make it out alive, you do still owe me those Baby Ruths,” he teased, lightly nudging Eddie’s arm with his own.

[spaceskam]

The Golden Boy

hey look i finally finished that fic i’ve been giving sneak peeks about for months

warning: past child abuse, sexual content

ao3 

In Bacchus Year 9 (Earth year 1782), Antar and Earth signed a peace treaty.

The treaty meant requiring many social gatherings on either planet, kind gestures between royals, and many public statements against prejudice of each other's people. It even led to Earth assisting the rebels during the Antarian Civil War in Bacchus Year Final (Earth Year 1834), stating proudly that they signed the treaty for the people, not the monarchs. As one would assume, that line went over fantastically with the public.

They heavily supported the rise of King Atlas Gudrun, a man of great people skills and desire to help, in Gudrun Year 0 (Earth Year 1844). The Gudrun family (which had been anglicized on Earth to Guerin) had been ruling on Antar ever since and had always done their best to keep up their loyal companionship with Earth and its leaders.

It all led to this moment in Gudrun Year 176 (Earth year 2020) where Prince Michael of Antar, fourth of his name, son of King Heinar, known for his charm and wit, had Prince Alex, first of his name, adoptive son of King James Valenti, known for his intellect and beauty, completely strung out and naked against sheets made of the finest Antarian silks.

"How long until the little pest makes you leave?" Michael asked softly, trailing his fingers over the dip of Alex's slightly crooked collarbone. Alex's eyes were closed and his lips were parted and if Michael didn't know any better, he'd think he was asleep. But he did know better and he knew he was simply in a state of bliss that only occured in moments like this.

Their one off tryst had actually occurred more than once, but it wasn't frequent enough to call it a thing. They saw each other a few times a year if they were lucky and could steal a few hours each time to sneak away. If they were supremely lucky, they could even take a night. They weren't this time.

"He said we have until six before we have to be taken to get ready for dinner," Alex whispered, not bothering to correct him for calling his brother a pest while slowly turning onto his side and letting his forehead hit Michael's shoulder. Michael pouted.

"I miss you already," he admitted stupidly, combing through Alex's long hair. He'd seen a picture of him with it all shaved off and had met him when it was short, but apparently he hadn't cut it at all since he'd been given the title of prince. Michael didn't mind.

"You come to Earth in a month, don't you? Ask to stay longer, I’m sure we could easily explain away a reason you should stay in my home," Alex whispered, pressing a kiss to his shoulder.

"If you come up with a good reason for me, I'll do it. I'm bad at excuse making," Michael grumbled. Alex smiled and lifted his hand, his cold fingertips pressing to Michael's cheek and his lips.

"I'll cause a national disaster if it means getting you alone for one night," Alex said. Michael stared for a moment before grabbing him and rolling him into his back, stealing a series of slow, deep, open mouthed kisses that only came so easily because they were with him.

Michael adored the way Alex grabbed at him, hands never staying one place too long because he wanted to touch everywhere. He wanted to remember everywhere. He wanted him in his entirety. He could never find the words for how it made him felt to be wanted so strongly if only for a night.

"Please never leave," Michael begged against his skin. Alex said nothing.

Instead, the bedroom door was very rudely and unceremoniously thrown open. Michael instinctively covered Alex’s bare skin and looked towards the doorway. On the other side, Michael's guard, Adonis, stood with his back to them in some silly act of respect while Kyle stood with his arms crossed while looking really irritated. He walked in farther and closed the door behind him. Or, tried. Adonis stuck his hand to block it from closing entirely. He trusted Alex to be alone with the prince. Kyle was still earning that.

"Get up, we have to go get ready," Kyle said. He had no shame, truly, as he sat on the bed. Michael fell face first into the pillows and groaned. "Excuse you, I'm doing you a favor."

"You're interrupting," Alex corrected, tan fingers idly rubbing over Michael's shoulder.

"I disagree. I think I just lied to two fucking monarchs that we three princes were going to be hanging out and doing princely things when, in reality, I was playing some fucked version of Go Fish with Adonis while you two snuck away for your intergalactic booty call," Kyle explained. Michael groaned even more.

"How vulgar must you be?" he asked. Kyle raised an eyebrow.

"Oh, you wanna go there? I've seen your U-Mails to Alex. 'Oh, how I long to get your mouth on my–'"

"Enough!" Alex silenced him, shifting to a sitting position. Michael wanted to cry that it was over so soon. Especially when they still had to sit across the table from each other and pretend he hadn't just had him to himself. "Leave and let me get dressed, then we can go."

"Finally," Kyle groaned, patting Michael on the back before he went, "Good to see you, Prince Sexual Frustration."

The door closed if only because Adonis insisted on the prince being kept away from anyone who might catch him in a vulnerable state. Alex took the opportunity to move back for a few more kisses, all of them feeling more and more like goodbye. He remembered a time when he didn't mind goodbyes. Now they felt like a death sentence.

“Stop pouting,” Alex told him softly as he slowly weaned him off his lips, “This isn’t the end of the night. I’ll still see you at dinner and I still don’t leave until tomorrow morning.”

“But you leave so early,” Michael whined, “And at dinner, there’s people.” 

Alex traced a finger from Michael’s temple down to his jaw, moving his thumb up between their mouths. He gently grazed Michael’s bottom lip before pushing down on the sore skin.

“I’ve read countless articles about all the wondrous things you say, how well spoken you are, how you can charm anyone to their knees in four languages,” Alex said, voice hot, “If only they could see the way you beg.”

Michael huffed a sad laugh, knowing Alex was trying to distract him from his sad thoughts and deciding to play along. Alex pushed his face away and went to get up. Michael pushed himself off the bed and caught Alex’s bicep, unskillfully pulling him down on top of him.

“You are the only one allowed to see me beg,” Michael said. Alex smiled at him, honest and bold as ever. He laid his weight on Michael completely, trusting him not to treat that little act with anything but kindness. It was the most beautiful thing Michael had ever been given. 

He went to move up for another kiss, but he was horrifically sidelined when Alex dodged him and pushed him back into the bed to get himself up. Michael remembered the first time Alex had pushed him. His first reaction had been anger that a silly little Earth man would dare to touch him that way. But his second reaction had been absolute delight when he realized he’d only been pushed because Alex wanted him against the wall. They were so young then. Somehow, things hadn’t really changed.

Alex got out of bed and grabbed the prosthetic leg that he somehow didn’t mind Michael seeing him without. He moved with agile fingers to put it back on in record time before he stood and stretched his body out in objectively the most unfair way that existed. He was long and lean, muscular and tan. And he was covered in scars. No two scars were more than a hands-length apart, Michael had tried. He kept them hidden usually and he kept their origin firmly to himself (including how he lost his leg), but Michael had been blessed with the sight of them. They were 16 the first time they kissed in the halls of the palace, but 18 before he saw Alex’s body in its full glory. It was a small gift, but one that he treasured on nights he felt more alone than he could bear. 

“Stop staring at me like I’ve just ruined your entire day,” Alex laughed as he pulled on those ugly clothes that Earth called formal. His pants were a stiff, tan fabric and his shirt was an equally stiff white thing that buttoned up all the way up to hide his collarbone. The clothing was ugly, but the man inside was beautiful and it simply made him look neutral. How decidedly boring.

“Oh, what the hell is that?” Michael scoffed.

“Don’t act like you don’t know what a belt is,” Alex said, giving him a fond smile as he pulled the folded thing from the deep pocket of his pants. He hadn’t been wearing it when Michael got him alone.

“Yes, but where did it come from?”

“Bold of you to assume I wouldn’t remove it so I wouldn’t waste time when I saw you,” Alex said, flashing a cocky little smile and it reminded Michael all over again why his people had been so okay with making him an eligible heir despite his lack of birthright. How could anyone deprive a face like that of the entire world? “But don’t worry. You and your mother both find Earth clothing to be a personal insult, so I’m sure they’ll have something nice and alien for me to wear.”

And they did. Michael had gotten his sister to see to it that they put Alex in gold if only for his personal enjoyment. Soon, he’d be in loose, silk pants and a long-sleeved, knee-length tunic that happened to be a very specific shade of gold that would probably make it difficult to focus at dinner but it would be worth it. Typically, their tunics would have a deep v-cut neckline (Michael’s in particular going to his navel as a show of both his age and his marriage status) but he knew Alex and he knew he didn’t like his scars on display, so he made sure they knew to keep it more modest and to also have an option to put something beneath it if he wasn’t comfortable. It was the least he could do.

With a flick of his wrist, Michael fastened the upper half of the buttons on Alex’s shirt so he could steal a few more seconds to kiss him. Alex rolled his eyes, but he went along willingly as Michael got to his hands and knees on his mattress and crawled over to him. Alex shook his head and caught his face in his hand, guiding him up and giving him a kiss that truly was too explicit to mark the end.

“After everyone goes to bed, I’ll get Luke to sneak me to Adonis,” Alex whispered, ignoring the sound of Kyle’s sudden annoyed knocking. Michael nodded in his grasp and turned his face to press a kiss to his palm. That should’ve been an unscarred place, but there was an unmistakable line of discolored, raised skin down the middle. Michael kissed it without fear or disgust and Alex pressed his hand against his mouth in approval. “I plan to make it so you won’t be able to walk in the morning.”

Michael laughed, “People will talk.”

“Let them.”

“You know,” Kyle said, busting in again and Adonis quickly stood in the doorway after his entrance to shield whatever incriminating position Alex and Michael might be in, “You two take more time to get dressed than it takes a majority of people in existence.”

“Blame the leg,” Alex said simply, his smile cocky as he pulled away from Michael. He kissed the tip of his nose and patted his cheek in the most loving way he could. “I’ll see you soon.”

“Not soon enough.”

“Never.”

“I’m gagging,” Kyle said in a monotone voice. Alex rolled his eyes and let his hands slip off of Michael, leaving him cold and lonely despite being far from alone. “Let’s go. I don’t want to be asked questions I can’t answer without incriminating myself.”

“We’re going,” Alex said, already following him to the door. He spared Michael one last look and a wink before disappearing with Luke, the final person who knew what was going on between them. 

Luke, Adonis, and Kyle only knew out of necessity. It was sort of an unspoken agreement between royal bodyguards and the royal children they looked after that they cover up every stupid decision they made as long as it wasn’t hurting anyone. Michael figured he could actually make an argument that this did hurt him, but that seemed frivolous at best. 

“Get up, little prince, you’ve got to get ready for dinner,” Adonis said as he entered the room once Alex and Kyle were gone. Michael pouted and dramatically fell backwards against the bed. Adonis chuckled under his breath. 

“Don’t call me little,” Michael said half-heartedly, easily slipping out of English and into his native tongue.

“I’ve been watching over you since you were small enough to get lost beneath your bed,” he said, “You will always be little to me, little prince.”

Michael glared at the ceiling. While he knew Adonis was right, he didn’t feel little. He knew, objectively, he was nearly 21 and he was nowhere near getting any kind of responsibilities outside the ones he had. Max was the one joining the military, Isobel was the one training to be queen, Michael was the baby who was left to do little more than indulge in his desires without consequences and be the face of the younger generation. He was friendly and charming and had women and men alike all screaming their appreciation for his face and his body and his smile all over the internet. He liked that attention and he liked just being able to go to parties and have fun and have people he met make posts about how fun it was to hang out with the prince. His father didn’t exactly approve, but it didn’t matter when the people did. They liked that he was young and real and approachable.

But there was something about Alex that made him feel more like a man than he could put into words. Alex was a few months younger than him, but he had seen more than Michael could imagine. He didn’t party, he didn’t drink, he didn’t do anything that could be a sign of weakness. He was beautiful, but he was a brilliant strategizer and worked closely with his adoptive father for many important decisions regarding the ruling of the kingdom. Kyle was the one who was approachable; Alex could barely spare a kind smile to the press and adoring people. People still liked him, but it wasn’t a secret he was straight-edged and hardened. Michael seemed to be his only vice. It was so… adult.

“Must I affiliate myself with foreign monarchs over food?” Michael asked helplessly, “Isn’t it enough to simply blow his son in my free time?”

Adonis sighed, but he seemed as amused as he always was when it came to Michael.

“Words to live by, little prince.”

-

“I’m judging you so hard right now.”

“Like I care.”

Kyle groaned and rolled his eyes as Luke followed them to their quarters. The Antarian royal family had a lot of land they resided on that had a secure gate around it, but they didn’t really believe in castles. Instead, it was a bunch of houses and special rooms, all connected by paths that were lined with well tended to gardens. 

“What’s even the point? Like, is this gonna amount to anything, or am I expected to die with this secret?” Kyle asked. Alex shrugged his shoulders dismissively. He and Michael didn’t talk about serious things. They were princes and dealt with so much bullshit. They kept each other as a safe place to unwind. “Great, I am expected to die with this.”

“It comes with the title, Your Highness,” Luke said simply. Kyle tilted his head back as he groaned again. Alex simply shook his head in amusement.

When they got back to the visitor’s quarters, three people were waiting for them to help them into their Antarian garb. There were a few different styles for different royal occasions, but, as visitors, they were typically given standard tunics. He remembered one visit when Michael had him sent special robes and wraps his way, ones like he wore when he was feeling extra, and he’d gotten so confused in trying to put it on that they now always sent an extra hand to make sure they wore it correctly. As confusing as they were, though, Alex was sure he would know how to put them on now. He’d taken them off Michael enough times.

“Thank you,” Alex said graciously as he accepted the fabrics. He went into his own room to change and would return back to let them make their adjustments. He wasn’t a big fan of people seeing his body. That meant questions and he wasn’t keen on answering those.

He laid the fabrics out on the bed so he could see what he was working with. As always, since he was 18, all of it was golden. Michael had some weird obsession with him in gold, but he never asked why. He thought it looked nice enough on him. 

The tunic had intricate leaf-like patterns embroidered into it that Alex couldn’t even begin to understand how long it took to achieve, but the pants were thankfully plain. Then there was a golden silk wrap and he smiled at whoever paid that much attention to detail. He grabbed it first and stood in front of the mirror as he wrapped it around his chest, covering any scars the low cut tunic might expose.

There were very few people who had seen those scars, most of which were purely out of an inability to hide them. If someone had told him when he was being tended to after losing his leg that one of those people awarded the visual of his skin would’ve been an Antarian Prince, he would’ve laughed in their face. His father had hated the Antarians more than he hated Alex. He was supposed to stay away.

But then the king got involved, Jim Valenti creating a huge uproar as he worked to change the rules that would mean Alex could be an eligible heir. And now he was. Which meant he had to work with Antarian officials at the ripe old age of fifteen, suddenly going from a maimed soldier to a pretty little prince. The first year seemed to be full of rigorous re-training of his brain to be good at the social part of things. The second year he was brought to Antar for the first time.

He distinctly remembered the first time he saw Michael, young and carefree and absolutely shameless. He had outwardly chosen Alex to fawn over for the extent of their stay, constantly sending smiles and winks and batting his eyelashes. He leaned too close when they talked and kept offering to show him where things were. Alex had disliked his abrasiveness to the point that, the closer he got, the more it set off his fight or flight reflexes. He almost hit him three times before Michael seemed to get the memo.

When the Antarian royal family traveled to Earth for their public appearances, Michael was much more tame. Unlike the rest of his family, he’d opted out of donning more of Earth’s style of clothing. There was something so bold about the way he walked around in his wraps and robes, all of it loose and seemingly hanging onto him just barely. It had exposed a good portion of his chest and his arms, even his thighs if he walked a certain way. Earth was too hot to cover more, he’d said. That’s when Alex really saw him. He was annoying as all hell, but he would be damned if someone tried to shame him into changing himself even for a moment. Alex had kissed him before he went home which was absolutely Alex’s fault. It was his favorite mistake.

“Gold always looks good on you,” Fides said as Alex walked back into the main room. He smiled his thanks and she led him to a chair to fix his face and his hair. She was the only one he trusted near him with all the tools that it took to make him look nice enough for the queen.

It seemed to be an hour before she was done, but it was worth it. Alex’s hair was braided into intricate six-strand braids that made a makeshift crown around his head and other tiny ones throughout the rest of his hair while the majority of it stayed down and was loosely curled where it rested against his shoulders. His eyes had thick and bold black eyeliner that seemed to bleed into gold eyeshadow which led to a leaf-like design that matched the pattern of his tunic that stretched to his sideburns, over his cheekbones, and above his eyebrows. His lips only had a thin layer of gloss over them, but he looked good and a part of him wondered if Michael would agree.

He knew he would.

“Thank you, Fides,” Alex said. She gave him a sweet smile and packed up her things. It was in Antarian’s blood to touch, but Fides respected Alex’s taste for it and, although he gave her permission to do his makeup, didn’t push him for more. It made her one of his favorite people.

It seemed achingly long before Kyle was done. He had a similar get-up to Alex, but his short hair was left alone and his face was more of just glittery and not in any particular design. It wasn’t long before their stylists excused themselves and went to do whatever they did in the main house. Alex and Kyle collapsed on the couch in time to Alex’s phone dinging to signify a U-Mail. He flipped through fabric to find which discreet pocket he’d slipped it into.

Eventually, he found it and he put effort into keeping his face straight as he sat Michael’s screen name cross his screen.

definitelynottheprince: My bed is cold and yet smells like your skin. It is the cruelest combination that has ever existed. How am I expected to be presentable at dinner while being mocked by the fabric that refused to keep your body in it’s grasp? My heart aches.

Alex somehow managed to keep his face seemingly uninterested despite the fact he wanted to both smile and make fun of him for being melodramatic.

HRH.AMV: You’re incorrigible.

Michael’s response wasn’t in English, but Alex was thankful it wasn’t if the few words he could pick out from his shotty language classes taught him anything. He understood the words floor, bed, week, and what was technically spoon but was slang for something that Alex knew had to be vulgar. Michael had a way with words in all four languages he knew and all of those ways were melodramatic and raunchy.

HRH.AMV: Does a moment ever pass where you’re not thinking about sex?

definitelynottheprince: Who says I’m thinking about sex?

HRH.AMV: I know you.

definitelynottheprince: You do. Then you should know the things I want to do with you aren’t all sexual.

It was one tiny word that made Alex’s blood run hot and he locked his phone so he didn’t have to think about it. With. Not to. He couldn’t explain why that was so exhilarating.

“Are you seriously making plans to get laid again already?” Kyle asked, “Literally how? Who has the stamina for all that?”

“Clearly not you,” Alex shot back. Kyle made a face mockingly.

“I just don’t get it,” Kyle sighed in exasperation, “Like, if it was Isobel, I’d get it.”

“So you’re homophobic?”

“No, let me finish,” Kyle scoffed and Alex waved him on while Luke watched with a bemused expression from where he leaned against the wall, “Isobel, I get it. She’s hot and could probably crush me. Max, I kinda get it, he’s nice and has that whole good-boy-soldier thing going for him. But Michael? The dude is known for being chill, I get it, but he loses all the charm when you see him five minutes after a party and he’s throwing up in the garden. Or how about the fact that he refuses to learn my name and just refers to me as the pest.”

“In his defense, you are a pest to him,” Alex pointed out.

“You didn’t answer my question.”

“Sorry, I failed to hear a question.”

Luke snorted and Kyle fixed Alex with a look. He wasn’t quite sure what he expected to get out of him. Alex had never been a secret-sharer, even when they were young and played toy soldiers in the little yard outside the palace. That had only gotten worse as Jim Valenti became king and, instead of listening to his former right hand man Jesse Manes, had him publicly tried for war crimes. His tight-lipped nature extended to his personal relationships, much to Kyle’s dismay.

“The question was how did you get involved with him in the first place? Because I’ve been trying to figure out how you two even get along since you started hooking up two years ago,” Kyle said, voice so honest Alex didn’t bother pointing out that it had been much longer than two years and Kyle just hadn’t noticed. “Just… make it make sense.”

Alex rolled his neck and tried to think about what exactly it was about Michael that made it hard to look away from him but also made it easy to go so long without speaking. As attached as they were when they were on the same planet and as much as they communicated in the weeks before and the weeks after, there were typically multiple days they went without so much as a word between them. They did their own duties and this thing they had found themselves in wasn’t a part of that. Michael spun romantic words for him, but Alex wasn’t his only pastime and probably never would be.

“He’s…” Alex trailed off, trying to find the words and settling on something that did the man no justice, “Simple.”

“Simple as in stupid?” Kyle asked dully.

“Simple as in not a problem,” Luke corrected.

“Simple as in he doesn’t ask questions,” Alex finalized. He meant it to be sort of lighthearted, but Kyle turned to him with concerned eyebrows.

“What do you mean?” he asked, but quickly decided to answer himself with another question, “You mean he doesn’t know about‒”

“No,” Alex said dismissively, carefully pushing himself to his feet and subtly checking his balance, “And he never will. We have dinner to attend to.”

Alex sort of checked out mentally for his own good after that, the walk to the dining hall and finding their seats completely a blur. He only seemed to come back to consciousness when Michael made his grand entrance. His robes and wraps were a dark red, hardly hanging onto his body as always. It exposed his chest more than anything else, the dangerous placement exposing the beginnings of the trail of hair beneath his navel. His head was held high, a thin gold band sitting atop his perfect curls. His eyes had cloudy red makeup surrounding them and his lips were painted gold. Alex smiled carefully to himself as he admired him.

Kyle was really the only one who actually looked forward to the food Antar had to offer. Alex didn’t hate it, but he would choose a pot of mac and cheese over the under-cooked meat of an animal that had no English name. Michael had tried to teach him how to say it, but it had way too many syllables and way too many consonants that Alex just couldn’t keep up. He’d just laughed and kissed him and never brought it up again.

“So, Prince Alex,” the smooth voice of Michael’s mother, the queen, said in her thick accent, capturing his attention. Queen Celeano (Lady No if she liked you) was a beautiful woman, but if that’s all someone took her for, they’d be sorely mistaken. 

She ran things more than her husband did, her iron fist impossible to ignore. She was fiercely protective of her children and rightfully skeptical of everyone who entered her home. But she seemed to like Alex. She never raised her voice or gave him that demanding tone she used on everyone else. The tone she used on him was motherly and made him eager to please her. When he was alone, he envied that Michael got that tone of voice from her all the time. 

“Michael said you were in school. Are you going to classes with other people or do you have a tutor?”

“Oh,” he said, shifting in his seat and hoping he was presentable enough for her, “Both. I go to only one class in a school every week, typically. I do like being there, but it’s difficult to balance everything with adding travel time and dealing with the stress of being in a crowded area.”

“Of course,” Lady No said, smiling, “And you’re doing well? It’s not easy I'm sure."

"I'm doing well. I'm studying poly-sci and I'm focusing on international relations right now," he explained. Alex's eyes involuntarily slid to Michael, watching him hide his smile by shoving food into his mouth with a two-pronged fork.

"Good. And languages, are you working on learning ours?" Lady No asked, seemingly oblivious to her son's antics. When Alex said he was, she followed it with a sentence in her own tongue that Alex could hardly decipher.

"...no?" he answered half-heartedly. Every Antarian in the room chuckled to themselves and Alex tried not to be offended by that.

"I asked if you were interested in becoming fluent," she said, still smiling easily, "I'm sure it'll come eventually."

"If he was here more often, I could make him learn,” Michael said boldly. 

"But obviously that's a bigger discussion to have," Alex covered quickly, hoping for an underlying message of ‘I care about your son but I’m not trying to destroy his innocence I swear’.

"Yes, a bigger discussion," Lady No said, nodding. 

"Maybe you could convince him into doing more schooling. I'm sure it'd sound better coming from you," King Heinar said gruffly. Michael gave an award-winning smile to his father which just earned a sigh.

The rest of the dinner went by slowly, but Alex's mind already started coming up with ways to make that suggestion a reality.

-

Michael was giddy after dinner and he found himself pacing his room while waiting for Alex. 

Within the hour, there was a knock on Michael’s bedroom door and he opened it to find Adonis and Alex.

“Thank you!” Michael told Adonis dismissively as he grabbed Alex by the bicep and tugged him into the privacy of his room. Both of them laughed, but Michael didn’t care as he immediately went in for a kiss. 

Alex was still decked out in his pretty clothes and his pretty makeup and Michael was high on everything. He was going to get to go to Earth and he was going to get to spend every single night in bed with him. It softened the blow that he would be leaving in only a handful of hours.

“Do you think we can set an alarm?” Michael asked through kisses, “So you can sleep with me for just a little while?”

“Yeah,” Alex agreed, nodding his head. Michael smiled.

“Yay.” 

“Before you get carried away, can we get this off my face so I don’t stain your pillow?” Alex asked, pulling out of the kiss a little breathlessly.

“Yeah, of course,” Michael said, leaving Alex with a simple kiss as he went to his vanity where he grabbed a cloth and makeup remover. 

He went back to Alex who had sat on the bed. He had the tunic bunched up and was slowly pulling it over his head without getting any makeup on the fabric. Michael grinned and helped get it the rest of the way off with a simple move of his eyes. Alex acknowledged his act with a shake of the head.

Alex scooted back just a little and leaned back on his hands. Michael perched himself on his lap and spared a simple kiss to the spot on his chest right above the wrap he hadn’t removed before getting to work on his face.

Michael had vivid memories of the confusingly slow process that was getting Alex to trust him with his body. He wasn’t sure why, but the search results that came up when Michael looked up his birth father told him it wasn’t due to a loving childhood. Still, he didn't look too far into it because that seemed like an all too obvious breech of Alex's personal boundaries.

Their first kiss had ended in Alex pinning his wrists to the wall whenever he tried to grab his waist. After that was years of every meeting involving gradual progress in Alex’s comfort levels. Hell, they were still making progress. It started with Michael not being allowed to touch him anywhere, his hands always being tucked behind his back or pinned down as Alex kissed him or touched him where he wanted to be touched all while fully clothed. They were seventeen the first time Alex had stripped Michael bare and yet kept himself covered. It was the most vulnerable Michael had ever felt in his life. As a reward for that trust, Alex let him touch his biceps when they kissed and his hair when Alex went down on him.

On Michael’s 18th birthday, Alex had taken his shirt off for the first time. Michael hadn’t been allowed to touch his scarred body with his hands, but he got to be chest to chest with him while he touched himself which had absolutely solidified his infatuation with him. 

The next time he saw him, after sharing pictures and conversations from the safety of being on separate planets, Alex had gotten completely stripped too (with the exception of his prosthetic). That time had been a little different in a few ways. There was no touching at all, but Michael got to watch him get himself off and Alex had watched him right back. Then Alex had locked himself in the bathroom for 30 minutes. But, when he came back out, fully dressed, he’d crawled into bed and they cuddled for the first time. 

Even though Kyle had ruined it by busting in, Michael remembered that night as the moment things really changed between them. It no longer felt like a game that made Michael feel giddy. It’d taken him a long time, too long, to fully realize the weight of what Alex was giving him and that it wasn’t a game to Alex at all. It never had been. That’s when Michael started laying on the sweet talking as thick as he wanted.

Two years after that realization, Michael was given free reign of Alex’s body with few restrictions. He could touch designated places with his hands: his face, his biceps, his thighs, his upper chest, and his hips. Michael could go down on him, but his hands had to be in visible areas and Alex typically chose to pin them down during it so he didn’t have to think. More often than not, Michael would still lay on his back with his hands tucked beneath him while Alex took over his mouth. No questions asked other than ‘is this okay?’. It made every step hold more weight than his casual hookups had. There was not a single thing boring or pointless about having Alex Manes in his bed.

“Up,” Alex dictated when Michael finished with his face and Michael listened without argue.

Alex removed his pants and got to work to take off his prosthetic. Instead of making Alex uncomfortable by staring, he turned the cloth to a clean corner before pouring a little remover on it and beginning to wipe at his own face. Alex took over when he put his prosthetic to the side.

“So, I may have thought of an excuse on how to get you to stay longer on my planet,” Alex said cooly, holding Michael’s chin in his hands as he wiped his face clean. His eyes were closed while Alex cleaned them, but that didn’t stop him from smiling so wide his cheeks hurt.

“Go on," Michael said, unable to hide the giddy tone in his voice. Alex hummed.

“You could do a semester of schooling there,” he suggested, "More if you like it."

Michael peeked open the eye that Alex wasn’t working on. “School?"

“School,” Alex said, his voice still controlled and face stoic despite literally sitting in nothing but his briefs and a wrap, “You could stay in the palace.”

"That's a long time."

"Yes, well," Alex sighed, "One semester is a few months. Then you could go home. And there's plenty of people who I'm sure would love to get their hands on an Antarian prince."

"Plenty of people?" Michael huffed, "What about you?"

"I'll be there when you want me," Alex said simply, but it was clearly an open invitation.

Michael wasn’t quite sure why Alex was trying to give him the option to opt out. The whole reason he wanted to go to Earth was to be with Alex. Michael already had his mind set on spending all of his free time with Alex while he was there. It would be difficult navigating being Princes from different planets while keeping their relationship a secret, but they could do it. Michael could make anything happen if it meant having Alex. He didn't know why Alex didn't see that.

“I would spend every night in your bed,” Michael said, leaning closer. Alex leaned back and held his face at bay. Michael knew better than to take offense to that and just kept smiling. “Don't be so scared of me.”

"I'm not scared of you." 

“You are,” he teased which Alex really didn't seem to like because he glared, "It'll be okay. No one's going to find out. Your home is a safe place for a foreign Prince, all the security. Perfect. And Luke and Adonis will help cover our tracks. We're safe and I want you.”

“You seem so confident that things will work out,” Alex said skeptically. Michael grinned.

“If I’m with you, I’ll always make things work.”

Alex let him come closer for a kiss and he pressed in hard right back. Michael could feel the tension radiating off him and cautiously reached his hand out to place on his thigh. He didn’t add any pressure, but he rubbed his thumb in circles until Alex stopped stressing so much.

“This is good,” Michael told him, “Isn’t it?”

“Yeah, it’s good,” he agreed, breaking the kiss only to get a good view of his face to make sure he hadn’t missed anything. Alex tossed the cloth off to the side and cupped the side of Michael’s neck in his hand. They stared at each other for a moment as Alex let it sink it. It was easy to forget how nervous Alex was to accept anything good. But Michael was going to make sure he finally started accepting that he deserved them. “Wouldn’t you miss your random one night stands?”

“Why would I when I had you with me all the time?” Michael asked. Alex scanned his face again.

“I’m temporary,” he said. Michael shook his head.

“I want to be with you,” he said honestly. He’d said those words in a lot of different ways, but that was the first time he’d said them so directly. He saw Alex swallow harshly before just going in for another kiss. Michael didn’t mind.

Alex laid him back into the bed, his hands slipping easily into the wraps around his body to get to his skin. Michael put his hand on Alex’s cheek and kept it there. The prospect of getting more of him than little moments a few times a year was exhilarating. Imagining his bed smelling like him at all times was almost too much. Things were going to be better than he could’ve dreamed.

He carefully moved his other hand to the wrap on Alex’s chest.

“Can I take this off?” 

Alex agreed without hesitation.

-

Things happened extremely quickly.

The door slammed open and Alex woke up in defensive mode. Too many nights his father had come into his bedroom as a test, making sure he was alert. That wasn’t something that could ever be un-taught. So, just like his father taught, he grabbed the knife that he always kept within reaching distance and threw it at the doorway with unparalleled precision.

It was only when Adonis dodged it by using his telekinesis that Alex even realized it wasn’t his dad or an intruder. He didn’t apologize, though, and he didn’t feel guilty. Who just busts into someone’s room? So he reached for his prosthetic and started to quickly put it on even though he didn’t know what was going on.

Michael woke up at that moment and lazily started rambling in Antarian. Adonis had already locked the door behind him and was in the process of moving Michael’s armoire in front of the singular window in his room. All that told Alex was that something was wrong and so he picked up the pace.

Adonis answered Michael in clipped Antarian, his voice rugged in a way that it never was and chills covered Alex’s skin. He grabbed the pants that he’d worn the night before and the wrap, putting them on as quickly as he could.

“What?” Michael asked, still in a different language but Alex understood that much. Alex started towards the door to retrieve his knife. 

Adonis answered him in that same rough tone, sparing Alex a glance as he did so. Most of the words flew over his head, but he’d overheard enough Antarian’s speak about him that he caught one word. His whole body froze and he looked over at Adonis, feeling every bit of that soldier his father had raised slowly build back up inside him. He’d tried so hard to not be that person anymore, but at the simple word ‘Prince’ there was no keeping it at bay.

“Kyle?” Alex asked carefully, voice devoid of emotion, “Is he alive?”

Adonis sighed and turned to him, an apologetic look in his eyes.

“Yes,” he answered in English, “He was shot at, but the bullet just grazed the side of his head. From where we think the shooter was standing, it looks like it was meant to be a direct execution-style shot, but it was swerved at the last minute when they realized they had the wrong prince.”

Alex lifted his chin.

“How do you do know it was because they had the wrong prince?” Alex asked. Truthfully, he knew he was right. No one wanted to assassinate Kyle. On both planets, the Valentis were well loved. Jim listened to his people and accommodated them and that made him easy to respect and appreciate. Kyle was an extension of that and he was loved even more. Alex was like, sure, but he had one person who would be willinging to put a hit out on him and he couldn’t be shocked to discover it finally happened.

“It’s a theory, but we don’t know why it would’ve missed if it hadn’t been and then there wasn’t a follow up shot,” Adonis explained.

“Right,” Alex said, nodding curtly, “I’ve got to go.”

“What?!” Michael nearly squeaked and Adonis shot him a look to tell him to be quiet, “You’re not going anywhere when there’s someone out there that wants to kill you!”

“I already know who it is,” Alex said, “Or, who paid them. My father isn’t stupid enough to do it himself.”

“Your father?” Michael asked, “Why would the king‒”

“Michael,” Adonis said sharply. Michael looked up at him and then back over to Alex.

“You aren’t going anywhere. Stay here. It’s safe here,” Michael said. Alex huffed a laugh.

“And willingly put you in danger? Absolutely not. You’re already in danger by being affiliated with me.”

“But why would it be your dad, Alex?” Michael asked, slowly stumbling out of bed, “I mean, you got adopted years ago, why the hell would he wait to do it now? And on a different planet? That doesn’t make any sense.”

Except it did make sense. If Michael knew the first thing about his father, then it would make complete sense. But he didn’t. Because Alex didn’t share. He didn’t share anything. He’d enjoyed so much that Michael never asked any questions or prodded, but now it seemed he waited too long for an explanation and all the questions were coming at once.

“It doesn’t matter, I need to go,” Alex said.

“Wait,” Adonis said firmly, his eyes closed as he honed in on whatever other guards were telling him telepathically, “They found the guy. Hired assassin. Give up your dad’s name easy.”

“I believe that,” Alex said. Michael was still staring at him, still waiting for him to explain or do something worthwhile. Alex didn’t have anything to give him.

“Alex,” Michael called softly, holding out a hand to him in hope he’d come back to bed. But Alex was awake and needed to go be with his family. “It’s alright.”

“We’ll talk later,” Alex said, nearing him and giving him a kiss on the forehead, “Luke should be waiting to walk me back.”

“No,” Michael argued, grabbing his hand and holding him in place. Fear shot through Alex’s body at the act, that siren going off in his mind that told him he was trapped. He yanked his hand away and glared at Michael who looked pathetic. Maybe Alex was wrong to think being with a man who’s issues paled in comparison to his was a good idea. He would never understand. “Alex, there could be more than one assassin. Stay until light. Someone could hurt you.”

“Let them try,” he said cooly and he left Michael’s room. Adonis followed to make sure he would be okay, but Luke was waiting at the door. His face was stoic, but he had bags beneath his eyes and a set jaw that told him it’d been a long night.

He led the way back to the visitor’s building where Kyle was being patched up by the medic that resided on the royal’s grounds. They were both on high alert the whole walk, but Alex assumed it was probably for drastically different reasons.

“His Majesty is handling the assassin with Lady No and Sir Heinar. They’re trying to see who failed so spectacularly at their job,” Luke said. Alex breathed a tight sigh as he sat on the bed. Kyle was leaning back in bed with drugged eyes.

“I’m so sorry,” Alex told him.

“Why? If you were here, you would’ve died,” Kyle said, voice slurred by whatever they’d given him. Alex shook his head.

“I would’ve preferred that over you getting hurt in my absence,” Alex said.

“Oh, fuck off,” Kyle scoffed. Alex managed a smile. “You getting laid is clearly a lifesaver, so that thank the prince for me, will you?”

Alex’s eyes widened at his brazen statement in front of  ears that didn’t deserve it. He glanced at the medic who was stitching up the side of Kyle’s head. They seemed unphased by the admission. 

“Do not worry,” they said, voice thick with an accent that made Michaels’ seem nonexistent, “I am a royal medic for a reason.”

Alex took that as a promise of their lips staying sealed. He turned his attention back to Kyle.

“Where is Prince Boy Toy anyway? Is he all worried about you?” Kyle mocked. Alex rolled his eyes. 

“I don’t care about that,” Alex insisted. Kyle quirked a lazy eyebrow.

“Huh? You don’t care that he cares about you?”

“He was a bad idea,” Alex said simply. Kyle snorted.

“Well, yeah, at first, but he’s good for you. Makes you less of a rock,” Kyle said. Alex barely had time to process that before Kyle changed the subject. “Can’t believe your dad tried to kill you. I knew he was an asshole, but, damn.”

“I just can’t understand how he got an Antarian to go through it. Isn’t he still in prison? How did he even pull that off?” Luke asked. Kyle scoffed and they both started brainstorming ways. Alex slowly tuned out the conversation.

His entire life, his father had haunted him. He trained him to be a soldier in all the ways he knew how: tying Alex down and making him figure out how to escape, wrapping a rope around his stomach and having him lug objects like cattle, tying weights to his ankles to make sure he could always run even in times in distress, and that only scratched the surface. He put his hands on him when he didn’t act like he was taught and he had since was little. It only got worse as Alex got older, covering his body in scars until he got to the worst of them all: his leg. During a training session, he’d tied thin wires to each of his limbs. It took Alex hours to get them off, but, by the time he got to his last leg, it’d been virtually impossible to salvage. His ankle had already been broken three times and now it had a severe loss of blood flow. They said they could try to save it, but he’d probably be in pain forever. They made the unanimous decision that it had to go. Which is when Jim finally had enough.

But the damage was done. Alex had already been littered with scars that would never heal, mentally and physically. Alex still remembered his father mocking Antarians for the way they dressed and everything they showed. Part of him wondered if that’s why he was so deliberate about the scars‒with them there, he would never show off his body like that and never get the attention he wanted from other boys. He still got it though. That only seemed to make his father more angry. How dare his only son have an interest in other boys, who would carry on the family name? 

The thing was, Alex had biological brothers. None of them really survived his father’s torture like he did. They either broke under the pressure or they really didn’t survive. Alex was resilient though, he was his father’s favorite, he was the golden boy. And wasn’t that just impossible to comprehend? How could he be the favorite and yet still treated that way?

It was even harder to think that he was lucky. Sure, he still couldn’t look at himself in the mirror and he got uncomfortable when men gave him attention and he still couldn’t let Michael touch him in so many places, but he was lucky. And his father knew that. And he was angry.

And his voice was still in Alex’s mind. It made it impossible to accept Michael’s sentiments that he wanted him for more than something temporary. That was painting a target on his back and Alex knew it.

“Alex,” Luke said, pulling him out of his head, “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” Alex said simply, blinking away the memories that made his blood run cold, “But do you think we could arrange a private meeting between me and my dad when we get back on Earth?”

Luke eyed him strangely.

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

“Do you have a better one?” 

And he didn’t, so Alex slipped back into his mind.

-

Michael’s mind stayed on Alex for so long that it was becoming a problem.

They’d never parted on such tense and negative terms before and Michael had convinced himself that Alex hated him and never wanted to see him again. It was just not good. He’d messaged him twice, but he got nothing in return. It really felt like he hated him. He didn’t know whether he was angry or if something bad had happened. Surely someone would’ve told him if another assassin had gotten to him, right?

“Come here.”

Michael lifted his head to see his mother in the doorway. Her face was as unreadable as ever, just like Alex, and her dark hair had been slicked back in a low bun. She wore all black wraps, inches of her stomach and arms exposed. They were tighter than usual which told him she’d been sparring. Despite that, he obeyed her and stood from the table to go hear her. She placed her hand on his cheek and looked into his eyes as if that would betray all of his feelings. And maybe  it did.

She guided his head to rest in the crook of her neck and she hugged him tight. She had a few inches on both him and his father, but Michael didn’t mind. He quite liked knowing she would always be taller than him. She would always be so clearly his mom.

“Did the assassination attempt really scare you this much?” she asked, combing through his hair like she’d done as long as he could remember. He relaxed into her and shook his head. “Then what’s wrong? You’ve been quiet.”

Michael didn’t know what to tell her. He was a terrible liar, nothing would sell as well as the complete truth. But the truth was scary too. What he and Alex were doing wasn’t really allowed. Antar and Earth being friendly was one thing‒but their young princes having an affair? He couldn’t imagine his mother, or the people of either of their respective planets, loving that.

“Alex won’t talk to me,” Michael offered, hoping that would be enough.

His mother breathed slowly and controlled. He didn’t move.  She was thinking and probably piecing everything together. Michael said nothing.

“Was there a reason Prince Alex wasn’t in the building when the shot was fired?” Lady No asked, but it was clear she already knew the answer. Michael sunk into her more.

“He was with me,” he confirmed. She sighed.

“Oh, baby,” she whispered, clutching him tight, “What have you done?”

“I didn’t mean to,” he insisted, his voice cracking, “I swear, it wasn’t on purpose. I can’t help it.”

“I know you didn’t,” she murmured, “But you still did it.”

“I want to go study on Earth,” Michael said firmly. He felt his mother suck in a deep breath. “I want to be closer to him.”

Lady No pulled away and grabbed his face in her hands. Michael let her stare and gauge how serious he was being. Because he was serious. Deadly. It didn’t matter that Alex wasn’t speaking to him. If he was on the same planet, he could get him to talk.

“Alex is the son of a very hostile man, Michael. He put a hit out on his own child, do you understand that?” she said. He nodded and she harshly let go of him. “Do you have a deathwish?”

“No,” Michael said firmly, “But I know what I want. I want Alex.”

She scoffed, shaking her head, “You have no idea what you’re saying.”

“Yes, I do,” he insisted, “I’m not a child, I know what I want.”

“Do you know anything about Alex? Do you know why he was adopted or why his father is imprisoned? Do you know anything?” she demanded. Michael swallowed as he looked at her. She was angry.

Michael very quickly realized that he didn’t know much. He and Alex avoided talk of anything of substance and he didn’t ask. The only time he’d asked anything real or they spoke of anything real was that last night they were together. Otherwise, he really didn’t know Alex that well.

But that wasn’t fully true either. He knew Alex. Maybe he didn’t know his past, but he knew did well in school and had great aspirations to be a good ruler. Maybe he didn’t know how he got all of his scars, but he knew which ones upset him the most based on what he could stand being touched and what he couldn’t. Maybe he didn’t know what Alex’s father did to him, but he knew he hated him and that was enough to make Michael agree. He didn’t know him enough to write a biography, but he knew enough to love him and wasn’t that enough?

“I know he’s unhappy and probably scared,” Michael said, “And I know I want to study on Earth.”

Queen Celeano took a step away from her son and closed her eyes. He waited patiently, fully expecting her to pull him into his mindscape so he would be easier to mold. But that didn’t happen. Instead, she opened her eyes and looked at him straight on.

“You are my child. My duty, above all else, is to keep you safe. I can’t do that if you’re on Earth. I’m sorry, but no,” she said simply, shaking her head, “Not while I know you’re affiliating yourself with a man who has a target on his back.”

“We’re discreet!” he insisted, “No one knows and no one will know! It’s no one’s business but mine and his!”

“You’re young, you’ll change your mind. You’ll find a nice Antarian and‒”

“No,” Michael said, firmer this time. He could feel Adonis hovering close by in case he needed to interfere. “I want Alex. And maybe it’s not forever, but if you force me to give him up, I will always feel forever about him and I will always blame you.”

She stared at him, long and serious. He wondered if this was why he liked Alex so much. His mother had instilled something in him that took that controlling seriousness and made him love it. It was never an insult. He took it as a silent ‘I love you’. 

“I will talk to your father and I will talk to James,” she said. Michael’s eyes widened.

“Wait, don’t tell them about‒”

“I won’t,” she said firmly, “But we’ll discuss schooling. And I’m sending you with more than just Adonis because I don’t trust Alex’s father.”

“But you trust me?” he said. Lady No took a deep breath and stepped back up to her son.

“I trust you,” she agreed, “But I don’t trust his father and I refuse to have my son return to me in a body bag. So I’ll see what I can do, but please, please be safe.”

Michael nodded in agreement and kept his smile at bay despite the fact he wanted to run through the halls screaming his joy.

“Always.”

-

“Are you sure about this?”

“Absolutely.”

Alex waited as the guards hesitantly unlocked the doors to the interrogation room they had his father in specifically for this meeting. He was being put on trial again for attempting to assassinate a member of the royal family, but that didn’t mean it would be impossible for Alex to get him alone. Jesse Manes had been patted down and checked over multiple times to make sure he had no weapons and he was handcuffed to his chair, but Alex still felt on edge.

On edge, but more powerful than ever.

He had been spending the last week trying to think of what he was going to say to finally sever this tie to his father, but, when he saw his face, all of that went out the window. But he had to do this. He had to if he ever wanted something good in his life. Something like Michael.

“Hello, son,” Jesse said as Alex stepped inside. Luke was close behind him. Alex had tried to get him to stay back, but he insisted he was going to be right there with him so he wasn’t alone. Alex didn’t know how to say no to that. 

“Dad,” Alex greeted, waiting until the door slammed behind them. Luke leaned beside the door in quiet solidarity. “Took you five years.”

“Not from lack of trying,” he said simply. It was surprising, but Alex still felt that pang of hurt. “You’ve stopped training, I know you have.”

“I haven’t, actually,” Alex said, “I spar every day that my leg allows. I just don’t endure torture.”

“What I did to you wasn’t torture. It was what you needed to become a good soldier, to rise up and finally end that fucking peace treaty. There’s nothing peaceful about it. It’s complacency,” he said. Alex shook his head and stepped closer.

“It isn’t,” Alex said, “They’re good people.”

“They aren’t people.”

“No, you aren’t a person,” Alex shot back, “What kind of person tries to kill their own son?”

“He wasn’t really meant to kill you,” Jesse offered, “You were supposed to kill him when he tried.”

Alex huffed a laugh, shaking his head, “Why am I not surprised that you think that’s better?”

“I spent fifteen years dedicating my life to you, Alex, you’re my son and I love you,” Jesse said. Alex held his chin high and tried not to let those words hit like they so desperately wanted to. “What don’t you see? You’re my pride and joy. Look at you. Infiltrating the royal family on both planets. Do you know what you could do at this rate? You could do wonderful things if you just stayed on track like I raised you.”

“Bold thing to say with witnesses,” Alex said. Jesse shook his head.

“I raised you,” Jesse repeated, “There are only witnesses if you let them be.”

They fell silent for a moment as Alex stared at him and tried to come up with the right thing to say. This was supposed to be empowering, but instead it felt more like he was just opening himself to more manipulation. But he refused. So, instead, Alex unbuttoned the jacket he was wearing and let it fall to the floor. His father eyed the gold wrap made of Antarian silk that was wrapped around his torso.

“What are you doing?” Jesse asked slowly. Alex took a deep breath.

“My entire life you shamed me for the scars you left on my skin. You taught me to hide from them and from what I wanted. But I refuse to listen to you. I refuse to let you stay in my brain, taunting me and making it difficult to let men touch or admire me. Because I want them to touch and admire me. How does that feel, Dad?”

Jesse’s jaw clenched at his words, but Alex felt no guilt. He felt quite the opposite. There was something freeing about getting under his skin.

“That doesn’t make me weak,” Alex continued, “I’m far from weak. I survived you. I can never be weak.”

“If you’re not weak, then you can ignore disrespectful desires,” Jesse said. Alex huffed.

“Disrespectful to who? Not me. And if it’s disrespectful to you, then I don’t care. I refuse to care. I spent so many years of my life trying to be the perfect son, trying to make you proud. And the sad thing is that I did. I was the son you wanted. Except for one little thing,” Alex said. His fingers skimmed the silk, begging it to give him strength. And it did. It felt like laying in Michael’s bed, like being wrapped up in a place where no one could hurt him. He felt invincible. “And I’m done being ashamed and scared.”

“I disagree.”

“Good luck with that,” Alex said, “Because I’m putting in a good word to have you executed.”

“My father is dead and he still lives in my mind, Alex,” Jesse said, smiling a smile that looked too much like Alex’s, “You can kill me, but I’ll never be dead.”

“Maybe not. But I’ll sure as hell do what I can to make sure I never end up like you,” he said simply, “I’m going to be a good king. I’m going to be kind. I’m going to love and be loved. I’m going to have a man in my bed, Antarian men in my bed. And there’s nothing you can do about it.”

“Spite only lasts so long,” he spat.

“Don’t wait and see how long that is.”

Alex decided he was over the conversation and turned to leave, hoping Luke grabbed his jacket on the way out. He didn’t notice his hands were shaking until he got around the corner and Luke draped the jacket over his shoulders.

“Did you get the closure you needed?” Luke asked. Alex sucked in a deep breath and looked up at him. He didn’t really feel that different other than the fact that he felt like he needed to throw up.

“I guess I’ll just have to wait and find out.”

-

Michael arrived on Earth after three weeks of not hearing from Alex, but that was alright. He was going to take advantage of his time there.

The main reason for coming was for some big party that Michael didn’t really care about, but it was doubling as a time to enroll him in a school on Earth. The same school Alex was going to. He would be returning in a few months at the start of the next semester and, if he and Alex weren’t on good terms by then, then he would spend all of his free time trying to get them on good terms.

What he didn’t expect, however, was for Alex to give him a bright smile when they pulled up to the palace. There were cameras around so they didn’t hug, but Alex greeted him with a handshake that made his mind feel like fireworks were going off.

The next few hours were agonizingly slow and full of small talk. By the time Luke was leading him to Alex’s bedroom, he was already losing his mind trying to figure out what exactly was about to happen.

He was welcomed into Alex’s room and then they were alone. Alex was clothed in his stiff dress pants and his stiff white button up, but he looked nice. He always looked so nice.

“Hi,” Michael said.

“Hey,” Alex said right back. He stepped up to him and gave him that sweet smile that he always had for him. It was jarring considering their last encounter.

“I’m sorry about the last time I saw you,” Michael said, “I shouldn’t have grabbed your hand when I know you don’t like that. I know I sent you a U-Mail that said the same thing, but I keep thinking about it and it makes me feel worse every time. I’m so sorry.”

“It’s alright, you were scared,” Alex said simply, eying him. Michael waited for him to say more, but he didn’t. So he finally asked a question.

“Alex… What’s going on?” he asked, “With us, I mean.”

“Last time we spoke, you said you wanted to be with me. Do you still feel that way?” Alex asked. Michael’s eyes widened, but he nodded. It seemed too deceptively easy, but it was Alex and he would jump into an endless pit if Alex thought it was a good idea. “Then I think we should talk.”

“Talk?”

“Talk,” Alex confirmed, nodding to his bed, “About anything. I think I owe you some honesty. I felt I had too much baggage for you, so I never shared, but you were kind to me for four years not knowing why I acted that way. So I think it’s time I let you in a little more.”

“Seriously?” Michael breathed. It felt too good to be true.

“Seriously,” Alex laughed, “I’m so tired of hiding from you.”

The two of them sat down on the bed facing each other and not touching. But then Alex held out his hand. Blood pumped in Michael’s ears, but he slowly reached out his hand towards Alex’s. Alex carefully laced their fingers together and rested it on his knee. They didn’t do that. But this was progress. So much progress.

And all Michael could feel was pride.

[piecake-dbd]

The Great Dying

https://open.spotify.com/track/54JQyG5989fTgqmTfIl27b?si=425abd670a2c4d3a

Lyra stared blankly at her parents in the doorway of her room for several seconds while she spooled down the content streams in her vision. "Wait," she mumbled before blinking and then turning her body toward them. "What did you say?" "We have something important to tell you dear," said her mom. "Uh, is this good news or bad?" "It's good news, listen..." her father started in. "Your mom and I have been saving up for a long time. When we started, we thought we'd buy a house or send you to school, but something more important has come up." "What could possibly be more important than a house?" she asked, squinting. He paused, only briefly, but it was enough to know she wasn't wrong. "Well, my co-resonant at work told me there's a new program at the Academy. He said they're only accepting people who are..." he said, glancing at the the floor-to-ceiling stacks of cold data storage lining most of one wall of my room. Dad corrected himself, "...people who have extensive experience in memory casting." "Dad, I'm not famous," Lyra said, shaking her head. "I don't even have a thousand subscribers." "They're not looking for famous people, sweet heart," her mom added quickly. "Exactly, he told me about this because his son is in the top 500 and still got passed over. They only want people who have been doing it since before the Boundary was turned on." "What? Why?" Lyra asked with a confused look. "I don't know but I want you to try this," he said. "I think you might actually have a shot. You're way ahead of the curve; you always have been." "Dad, my content is actual garbage. They're not going to be interested in me. How does this involve money again? Why do I feel like you did something stupid?" Lyra asked, getting more impatient with each question. "Honey... you can't just-" "I'll do whatever I want, mom." "Lyra, stop. I need you to take this seriously," her dad said. Lyra noticed his hand trembling and did a poor job hiding her concern as she turned back toward her data tower and then just stared up at the ceiling, knowing it would be too rude to tune them out. "Okay, fine. What did you do?" "I... paid an administrative fee to have your application expedited and put into the current pool." Lyra groaned loudly. "You bribed them to get me in? And what about when I show back up on your doorstep after being kicked out?" "I promise nobody will find out about this," her father insisted. "I took care of it, and it doesn't matter if you fail. Your mother and I will always love you and just... this might actually be a chance to get you out of here. You know how bad the odds are. It's like ninety nine percent of all people born outside of-" "I know- stop. I don't want you parroting their stupid ads at me," Lyra said while cutting him off. "When is this happening again?" "Tomorrow morning," he said in a grave tone, looking down at the floor and then to his wife. "Sweetie, don't worry about packing. They'll provide clothes and everything you need there but they did recommend bringing one or two personal sets of clothes just in case. You don't even need to bring a toothbrush!" her mom started to explain. Lyra just tuned her out and relaxed backward into her chair. She closed her eyes and placed both palms over them to get rid of all the light. "Okay, fine. Then leave me alone for the rest of the night so I can mentally prepare for this shit storm you just handed me." To her surprise, her dad actually said okay, and then apologized. She cracked her fingers to peek at them and saw them turning to leave. Lyra cursed at the door as soon as it closed and immediately maximized her streams. Her loopback recorder clicked and notified her that one of her data stores had filled up and she was now down to just a single empty drive. The memory of the conversation with her parents blinked and the system asked if she wanted to commit the newly filled block to cold storage. She nodded, triggering her user agent to go ahead and carry out the task of compressing and storing her memories. They would later get spooled out into one of her projections and serve as content for her subscribers after she had scrubbed any private details like the bribe. "YO- V, are you there?" a voice picked up in her ear from one of her back channels. "What?" she asked flatly. Lyra wasn't in the mood to talk with Josh right now and it made her feel guilty. She knew she should tell him that she might be offline for a while. "Don't you 'what' me. Check this out, dude. Someone got Old Nothing to speak and brought back a speely." Lyra suddenly forgot about the situation with her parents and she jumped to her feet, barely holding back a surprised shout. "HOW?" she asked, quickly flipping through the top 500 for commentary. A hyperlink blipped into view from Josh and she clicked on it, pulling up camera footage from a drone within the Bounds. "Shhhh, listen..." Josh said in a hushed voice. The audio was mangled and it took Lyra a moment to realize what was going on. On the screen a picture was slowly zooming in until she could make out the figures of an old man and a boy standing in the desert, talking to each other. The drone was listening in from a long-distance microphone but it sounded like people talking underwater in slow motion. Every ten seconds the drone would speed up and then re-play the audio from the last ten seconds at normal speed. At this distance the drone was about three times faster than the duo. "What did you say?" the old man asked in a voice that cracked and then rasped from years of going unused. "Thank you," the boy said. Lyra squinted and tried to make out the boy's face but it was obscured by a haze of privacy filters. "Josh, who is that? Did anyone get a look at him?" Lyra asked to her back channel. "Nobody knows but those two. By the time the drones caught sight of this kid he was already a quarter of the way out. That kid cloaked all the way to-" he said and then shut up as the feed continued to play. "For what?" Old Nothing asked the boy. His back was to the drone like with most footage and draped over his frame were fraying, tattered robes once brown but now gone green through generations of wear. "For showing me the way," the boy replied. "I brought something for you." "I do not need anything," the old man said. "I know, you need nothing. This isn't something you need though," the boy insisted. Deafening silence for ten seconds after that, but it must have only been a brief pause for the two of them, no more than a couple seconds. The boy reached into his bag and Lyra's chair creaked as her body leaned forward in anticipation. "Here," the boy said, producing a shiny, reflective cube about the size of his own fist. "It has everyone." "Everybody?" asked the old man, sounding the faintest bit like he was just humoring the kid. "Yes. Please, take us with you." "Are you sure?" asked the old one. "We are sure," the boy replied quietly. He was holding the cube out still as he dropped to his knees, staring up and pleading with the old man silently to not turn down his sacrifice. "Thank you," Old Nothing said, accepting the cube and placing it into some unknown pocket in his robes. He had barely moved more than few inches in any direction since he stopped walking, appearing to be completely still most of the time. Next to the boy it looked unnatural, like he was a statue. After another short pause, the old man continued walking and fixed his eyes once more upon the Singularity at the center of their world. It hung like a black sun in the sky above them, wrapping everything and everyone within its event horizon. The boy waited for several footfalls and then let his arms drop to his sides with a sigh. He didn't bother looking over his shoulder at Old Nothing, instead he looked straight up into the drone's camera. Lyra felt the pit of her stomach drop out. The boy's face was a continuously morphing average of features, each one fleeting and false as the privacy filter kept the drone from seeing who he truly was. There was still enough detail to make out a smile. "You know you're on there," the boy said, backing up slowly in the same direction Old Nothing was walking, toward the center. "All of you are."

[dregstrash]

Knife in the Back (ch.5)

A/N: I know I’ve been a tad MIA, but I did not forget about this incredible fic that I did with @wafflesandkruge

AO3 Link

Inej gathered her files again, hating how thin they were. For what seemed to have been such a messy killing, there was very little they actually recovered at the scene. The killer had been meticulous, almost every clue seemingly a red herring or meant to confound. 

A glance at the clock told her it was nearly five.The morning shift– Nina– would be coming in soon. She stifled a yawn and continued straightening her desk. She’d run home and try to catch a few hours of sleep before returning in the afternoon. Surely they wouldn’t mind, she’d clocked more overtime this week than most people did in a month. She shoved the pertinent files into her bag and made a grab for her car keys, but they were snatched up by Matthias. She tilted her head up and gave him a questioning look. He looked troubled.

“I’ll drive,” he insisted, his voice a low rumble. “You look ready to drop.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. How will you get back to your place?”

“I’ll take the bus.” His tone left no room for argument. “Let’s go.”

The drive back to her place was silent, as the moments between them usually were. Inej snuck glances at him, trying to guess what he was thinking. He didn’t know about her past, the one Kaz had hinted about back at the station. Was he angry Kaz knew more than him? Or that she was clearly hiding something big from him?

But it wasn’t as if Matthias was an open book either. He’d transferred to Ketterdam two years ago after quitting from the force a few states over. Zoya hated his guts for some reason, and Nikolai tended to ignore him. And he had some kind of shared history with Nina, Zoya’s assistant. She’d done plenty of digging into his background, but there were too many sealed records and dead ends for her to find anything worthwhile. Matthias Helvar’s past remained a mystery and she was fine with that as long as hers could too.

The car rolled to a stop outside her apartment building. Matthias switched off the engine, but didn’t move. His fingers tapped his thigh nervously. “Inej…”

She raised an eyebrow. “Yes?”

“What Brekker was saying…” he hesitated, clearly not sure how to phrase whatever was on his mind. 

“It doesn’t have anything to do with the case,” she said sharply. “And it won’t affect how I treat him. If he’s guilty, I’ll arrest him.”

“I don’t doubt that. But if there’s anything you need to tell me…” His pale eyes stared into hers. 

“No. There isn’t.” She held his gaze for a moment longer before holding out a hand. He handed over her car keys without another word and got out of the car. Inej followed, locking the car behind her. 

The sun was just starting to come up, its rays brushing the sides of her shabby building with gold. The neighborhood was alright by Ketterdam standards. She could afford to move into a better place now, but her apartment was comfortable and she was capable of taking care of herself. Her more unsavory neighbors knew not to bother her. 

She thought Matthias was going to say something else, but he just shook his head and waved goodbye before jogging to the bus station a few blocks away.

When Inej returned to the station a few hours later, Matthias was nowhere to be found, but there was a hot cup of coffee left on her desk. Her lips curled as she saw the familiar crow emblazoned on the side of the cup. Brekker’s Brews. Had Matthias gone without her to interview the employees again?

Her question was answered when Nina swept by her, leaving the scent of fresh pastries and roses in her wake. Her friend was carrying a box of donuts from Brekker’s Brews and she promptly set them down in the break room. Inej followed, her stomach growling. She hadn’t had time for breakfast.

“You should stop visiting that cafe,” Inej scolded half-heartedly as she snatched a donut from the box. The rest of their co-workers started drifting in, lured by the promise of sugar. “The owner’s a hit man.”

“A rumored hit man,” Nina corrected, her green eyes sparkling with amusement. She took a seat at the table and pulled her chair closer to Inej. “Besides, if there’s anyone you should warn, it’s Wylan. He goes almost every day just so he can chat up that barista...Jesper?”

Wylan froze, his hand halfway to a pink-frosted donut. “I do not,” he insisted. Inej just took another bite of her donut, noting the redness in his cheeks. She liked Jesper well enough despite his association with Brekker. She still hadn’t quite managed to figure out if he was involved in Brekker’s less legitimate business, a fact that irked her to no end. 

“Ooo, donuts!” a new voice exclaimed from the door. Inej looked up to find Nikolai Lantsov, the captain of the precinct, making a beeline for the pastries.

Despite his youthful appearance and mannerisms, he was well known around the country for cracking several notorious cases in the last decade. Zoya Nazyalensky, the precinct’s lieutenant, trailed in behind him with a roll of her eyes. 

“All of you get paid to solve crimes, not eat overpriced pastries from a criminal’s business front,” she scoffed. At her arrival, the break room became a sudden flurry of activity as everyone muttered their excuses and cleared out. Everyone, whether they admitted it or not, was more than a little scared of Zoya.

According to one rumor, she’d been with the FBI before quitting and moving to the precinct after meeting Nikolai during a federal investigation. Yet another rumor she’d heard was that Zoya was a former Ravkan assassin. Which was absolutely ridiculous. She hoped.

Inej lingered behind, waiting until everyone other than the captain and lieutenant were gone before shutting the door softly. Nikolai was sitting on the table and trying to get Zoya to take a bite of his donut. She didn’t miss how their hands were interlaced, or the soft curve of Zoya’s smile despite her harsh words. Their relationship was the worst kept secret of the precinct. 

Zoya noticed her first. “Something wrong, Ghafa?”

“It’s the Brekker case. Something’s not right about it.”

“He claims Rollins is behind everything, right?” Nikolai asked as he dusted off his fingers. “The gang leader we haven’t been able to put away?”

“Yes,” Inej confirmed with a frown. She leaned against the wall, trying to recall Kaz’s exact words. “He said...the Razorgulls were shacking up with the Dime Lions. That we weren’t seeing the bigger picture.”

Zoya frowned. “Brekker is full of shit. But that would explain the rise in gang activity we’ve been seeing near the Barrel.”

Nikolai’s face had gone serious. “Rollins is dangerous. There’s a reason he’s still free, and that’s because he covers his tracks well. If he thinks you’re on to him-”

“I’ll be fine,” Inej interrupted, a bit annoyed. She didn’t need to hear this warning again. From her boss, no less. Zoya shot her a warning glare. 

“Alright,” Nikolai said with a worried look. “It’s worth investigating if you believe Brekker. If you need more resources, let us know.”

“Will do, captain.”

“And make sure you keep tabs on Brekker too. It would be great if we could finally throw that little gutter rat in jail along with Rollins,” Zoya ordered. With a toss of her hair, she left the room. Nikolai followed her after giving Inej an apologetic shrug.

Inej sat in the room a bit after they’d left, contemplating Zoya’s last words. It was true she’d dedicated much of her career to trying to catch Brekker, but it seemed for the second time ever, their goals were aligned. 

She’d arrived in Ketterdam not as a detective, nor an immigrant, but a victim. Snatched from her family in Ravka, she’d been transported to Ketterdam as part of a human trafficking ring. She still had the scars to remember her time by- two bracelets around her wrists where handcuffs had been left on too tightly for too long and a long scar up her forearm where she tried to disfigure the peacock feather tattoo they’d branded her with. 

And when she couldn’t bear being an object any longer, she sought out someone rumored to help any problem go away for the right price. And that’s when she’d met Kaz for the first time

Sighing, she stood up and began to make her way to Wylan’s lab. Hopefully, he’d have more evidence for her or this whole day would be a bust. 

The precinct was unusually empty today, with most of the detectives out at scenes or on vacation. Matthias was still a no-show, which was strange for him. He usually called Inej at least a week in advance for absences of any sort. Just as she found herself missing his silent but reassuring presence, there was the sound of pounding footsteps behind her. 

“There’s been another body,” Matthias shouted, not slowing his pace. Inej broke out in a run, trying to match his longer strides. 

“Where,” she demanded as they turned the corner and exited into the parking lot. Matthias’ ancient, but reliable, convertible was waiting for them. Inej vaulted over the passenger door as Matthias struggled to open his with the keys.

“By the docks,” he said, his voice unusually tight. Inej realized why a second later. Nina lived by the docks, in a shabby apartment that Matthias was always bugging her about fitting with better security. 

“Nina’s fine,” Inej said in an attempt to reassure him. “I just saw her inside.” He didn’t say a thing, just started the car and tore out of the parking lot.

The scene was the same as the one from the last morning. A body. Two gunshots. And all evidence pointing towards Kaz Brekker. 

Inej dropped the corner of the tarp she was holding and stood up, done with her cursory examination. Wylan rushed by, snapping photos at every possible angle. Matthias was a few feet away talking to a uniformed officer. She took the moment to step back for a bit and think.

Two bodies in two days was an escalation if she’d ever seen one. Even if the real perpetrator was trying to frame Kaz, they were doing a shoddy job of it. Kaz’s kills were always spaced out, never more than one every few months. Or at least the ones she discovered. This time, there was a rag dotted with blood that Inej was sure would match Kaz’s once Wylan finished running his tests. 

She caught a crime scene investigator who was rushing by. “Do we have an ID yet?”

“Mila Jansen. Twenty-five, a student at the local university. That’s all we have for now. We can forward her address to you in a few.”

Inej nodded, distracted. Wylan was waving her over frantically, mouthing something she couldn’t make out. She dismissed the investigator and made her way over to him.

“What is it?”

“Well,” he started, fidgeting a bit. “I think Kaz was telling the truth.”

“What do you mean,” she snapped impatiently. 

“The body, while dumped this morning, was killed sometime last night. Between midnight and two in the morning. And Kaz was-”

“With me,” she breathed, the gears in her head turning. “I have to go. Tell Matthias I’m going after Brekker.”

[inkribbon796]

Suits & Smoke

Summary: Wedding planning shopping, starring the conflicting views of Dark and Roman.

Eric was used to being nervous and twitchy. But walking into a suit shop, with Dark and Illinois was nerve wracking. Roman was trailing behind him, forced to make the first of what would be many, many concessions. Both Roman and Eric were in masks.

Roman was already starting to push for flashier, glittery suits and after a second’s hesitation from Eric, Dark had swooped in to offer an alternative.

The Entity had asked for Eric’s measurements for a suit and found out that not only did Eric not know, which was a common thing and Dark expected that he wouldn’t know, but Eric didn’t own a suit.

Upon hearing that however Dark ordered it to immediately be corrected. A nice black suit and they could have Eric’s measurements on record for the wedding suit or whatever else Eric wanted to wear.

Illinois was on the fence about wearing a black or white tux. Due to being raised by Wil and Dark he had a literally rainbow of suits in his closet, so it wasn’t like he had to run out and get a new suit or tux for the occasion.

Eric was right now a living dress up doll for Dark and Roman to argue over. They went being loud or angry. But they were disagreeing.

“Nonsense,” Dark insisted, snapping his fingers and Eric was in a dark black tux with an off-silver vest. “Everyone in the world should wear a dark tux at all times.”

“So says the man who came to a meeting in a pink suit because he was tired and couldn’t be assed to get out of his boyfriend’s suit that he slept in and no one called him out on it because they couldn’t see the actual color.” Illinois snorted.

Dark’s face blushed a dark grey out of embarrassment, Roman and Eric gasped in amused shock as Dark sputtered in anger. “How dare you.”

“What color is your suit?” Roman asked.

The Entity pulled off his suit to reveal a black suit coat. “None of your business. We’re done talking about it.”

Then he put his suit back on and gestured to Eric. “Now if no one have a better idea, then we’ll go with this. Dashing. Elegant. Useful for every occasion.”

“Ughhhhhhh,” Roman groaned, dramatically flopping in his chair before getting an idea and jumping up in excitement. “Ooh! Ooooh! I have a brilliant idea.”

He waved his hand and Eric’s shirt turned into a deep red, almost giving Dark a heart attack. Illinois looked at Dark in concern.

“A nice red,” Roman clapped in excitement with a black and gold paisley vest. “Simple. Sharp. Sweet.”

“Absolutely not!” Dark spat angry and snapped his fingers, his aura sucking all the color out of it and hiding it from Dark’s eye. His echoes agitated. “I’d sooner let him wear a neon teal jumpsuit than that.”

“What’s wrong with red?” Roman hugged, offended, gesturing to his red sash. “Or teal for that matter, it’s a lovely color.”

“Everything!” Dark spat in a rage, his violent ringing accenting the clear fury in his fracturing echoes.

“Hey, hey,” Illinois tried to soothe, he’d watched Eric flinch and hunch in on himself, and so he immediately stepped in. “No red, we don’t have to go with red.”

“Shouldn’t the groom wearing the suit be the one who decides that?” Roman asked, a bit defensively since he knew they were all talking over Eric who had barely said a couple of words since the real argument over the suit began. And Roman might have felt a little bad about treating Eric like their personal Ken doll.

“Uh, umm,” Eric’s stammer was in full force as the attention was narrowed onto him. “R-Red, it— umm, I . . .”

Illinois turned to look at Eric, trying to make himself the only thing in Eric’s line of sight but not make him feel like he was backed into a corner. “Eric, dulcito, sweetheart, it’s okay.”

Eric took an uneasy step and walked forward so he could bury his face in Illinois’s chest. He was shaking and Illinois held onto him and ran his fingers through his hair.

“Dulcito, I’m here,” Illinois felt a little guilty for letting the argument get this far. He’d gotten a bit presumptuous of Eric’s bravery lately and hadn’t been watching for signs that he was at his limit. “We don’t have to be here anymore.”

Eric pulled his head away from Illinois’s chest, his eyes wet with tears and glasses slightly askew from where his face had been pressed against his fiancé’s chest. “Bu-But I . . . n-need a suit?”

“Not if it’s going to be a huge fight,” Illinois told him. “If you want to go, we’re gone. No explanations. No questions. We’re gone. Hell if it means you’re more comfortable then we can get married in our pajamas.”

“Sorry Eric,” Roman apologized, Dark watching quietly from where he stood off to the side.

“You still wanna look at the house or you wanna head back to your base?” Illinois asked gently. “No wrong answers, we’ve got months, we can go tomorrow or even next week.”

Eric was quiet for a long time, only looking at Illinois’s shirt and playing with one of the buttons. Then he let out a quiet, “Wanna go look.”

Illinois nodded, “If you’re sure then we’ll go. But when you want to go home we’ll go.”

After a quick nod from Eric, Dark waved his hand and Eric’s clothes went back to normal, and a portal passed over all of them. Then they were standing on an island that had a thick treeline and the setting sun trying to peek through the branches of dark evergreens. They stood in front of an old cabin in the center of the island.

Roman frowned at it. “Wow this is . . . uh, quaint.”

“Princey you don’t need to step on eggshells,” Dark glared at him. “It’s drafty as a winter snowstorm and doesn’t have working plumbing. To put it mildly this place is a pitiful shell of its former glory.”

“So why’d you will it to your favorite kid again?” Roman braved a question.

“Because I have been looking for an excuse to renovate it,” Dark snarled, holding his hands up as aura flowed around him. The earth shook before every plank of wood and nail uprooted itself and the house became a mass around them, hovering in a wide circle above them, even the cracked and degraded foundation ripped out. An illusion of an old, vintage mansion expanded around.

“Here lies the birth and death of the Doom Family legacy,” Dark announced.

“I still can’t believe that’s their last name,” Roman snorted derisively. “Could you be any less of a supervillain?”

Dark glared at Roman “Why do you think I had it changed? No one was going to vote for a Mayor Doom in this day and age now were they?”

“Fair,” Roman allowed.

“Now keep your inane rambling civil before I kick you out of the conversation,” Dark threatened. “I only let you tag along for Eric’s mental health.”

Roman groaned, rolling his eyes, his whole body sagged a bit with annoyance.

The moment gave Dark the opportunity to notice that a massive hole had opened up under the floorboards of the cabin. There had been a slight layer of stone. Dark quietly left an echo in his place as he portaled into the hole to see how much he needed to fix. It was a large chamber with drawings on the walls of Anti, Mare, and himself.

Spurred on by a flash of fear he destroyed the images. He didn’t care who made them or why they were made. He scored his aura into the wall until it had erased it.

Only then did he notice a hole big enough for someone to climb through and a muddy boot print where someone had braced their foot against the wall to climb back out.

Dark sent an echo to investigate where the hole led to and took his place back up with the others. Someone had been on his island, and not the typical drunk college kids, but someone who seemed to know that the island housed all kinds of grisly secrets.

As he spoke with Eric and Illinois on house plans his echo came back to him, reporting evidence of a large boat landing on the island and evidence that something had been dug up. His red soul couldn’t give information on what that object would have been or what the hole in the ground was, but she agreed it was better destroyed.

Dark continued talking to Eric and Illinois, pulling magic and materials from the Void until a modest cottage was sitting. Not too large but not cramped. Eric was staring at the place in awe, holding onto Illinois’s hand.

“Well,” Illinois smiled at Dark, “if the whole mob boss thing doesn’t work out for you, then you can always get a job as a contractor.”

“Hilarious,” Dark told him dryly. “Take a look at the place, tell me if there’s anything wrong.”

Then he pulled Illinois over, but not enough to pull him away from Eric, “And if you happen to see anyone on this island tell me immediately.”

Illinois nodded seriously before smiling at Eric. Dark left Illinois with Roman and Eric and went to go and continue to investigate the island. He didn’t like that someone had been so close to the cabin. Dark usually kept it warded and safe, although rotted.

Dark had a hunt to conduct.

~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: Hey remember that tunnel that Jack and Nate found in Under the Waves? Because Dark sure doesn’t.

[proper-goodnight]

Detroit: New Beginnings

Summary: It has been one year since the androids claimed their rights to freedom after the revolution, and one year since Connor has decided to stay on the force at the DPD. The duo are currently working on a case involving androids going missing while Connor grapples with what he almost did to Markus at the peace rally and fearing Amanda’s inevitable return.

Pairing: N/A

Warnings: Violence, Strong Language

A New Start: Partners (01)

Detroit Police Dept.

August 30, 2039

12:30 P.M.

Tuesday

Chris abandoned his wife’s pastries on the counter in the break room.

Over the years, it had become an unspoken rule to not berate him for the fact that Hank could count the people that were brave enough to try his wife’s newest lifestyle kick for that week on one hand. 

For all of the employees on the force, that wasn’t a lot. He didn’t need any special probability and statistics program to figure that out. 

But, it wasn’t like Hank hadn’t tried. He had, but only once--and couldn’t keep a straight face or control his gag reflex enough to even think about trying it again. Their outward appearance had been what threw him for a loop initially; being made of enough random herbs and healthy shit couldn’t sway the uncanny resemblance between it and actual shit and no amount of Chris promising such couldn’t and would never convince him otherwise.

While Hank may have never cared about what he put in his body, he was still not ignorant enough to test whether or not his tolerance extended to something beyond alcohol or cigarettes. Some days, Connor’s habit of sticking evidence in his mouth suddenly didn’t sound so fucking revolting. 

God, if the kid heard him say that…

In that same area of the precinct, a loud continuous whirring of a coffee machine grinded endlessly. DPD staff shuffled around it eagerly awaiting its cycle to complete, and Gavin had ingested just enough caffeine to erupt into his usual cacophony of loud remarks and comments about fuck-all that morning. 

Of course the prick couldn’t grant them reprieve for even a few minutes. 

Hank supposed if he didn’t then the fucker was either late or… late. It wasn’t like he ever called off.

No, they couldn’t be that lucky.

“No fucking way!” And to complete the morning, here Hank was with a deafening insistence in his tone that left little room to argue over Connor’s suggestion for the umpteenth time that morning. “I have had enough birthdays! I am getting too damn old for this shit!”

In response, Connor looked contemplative, but even more so, unsatisfied with his decision.

Typical Tuesday.

Sitting hunched over his desk, Hank sifted through piles of papers for his tablet. It furthered his incessant personal reminding that he should probably take a few minutes and clear his desk of all of his personal clutter--all of the memorabilia piling up over the years was beginning to make finding anything nigh to impossible, another indication made clear when he bumped a couple of pens to the floor with his elbow. 

Cursing, he dismissed it to the abyss below his desk, staring at the screen with faux concentration. The contrast between their work stations was proving more apparent as the days went on, Connor’s completely clean of surface clutter and retaining a fresh sheen despite having claimed it a little over a year ago.

Besides the mess, the spinning yellow circle glaring at him just outside of his peripherals held his focus, having more recently recognized it as a sign of the android’s thinking--thought processing. Whatever. 

Connor’s brows were furrowed, eyes fixed on him as if deciding in some sort of situational software that he had of some other option that would help move their conversation into a more positive direction, something that would somehow change it in his favor. He wasn’t getting anywhere, and Hank wasn’t going to take any bait. 

The android’s lips parted to speak, but Hank was already turning away, grumbling incoherently under his breath. 

And nothing that he would reiterate unless Fowler was going to lecture him about playing nice with his co-workers. Again.

Perched on the only unoccupied corner of his desk, arms crossed over a broad chest, Connor worked a tick in his jaw. If androids had actually possessed the need to breathe--and their biocomponents that simulated breathing were actually functional for that sole purpose--the asshole may have just sighed. For the briefest of an instance, he caught his partner’s stoic expression, tight-lipped and silently asking for some sort of agreement between the pair.

It wasn’t offered.

“I have been researching human cultural practices and I thought that maybe--”

“Drop it. You want to celebrate, then do it for yourself why don’t ya? Celebrate your one year since deviating. That’s in a couple of months.”

Connor almost looked thoughtful, features folding over in confusion as he worked through some sort of response. Hank’s celebration into an even older age was many in the long list of arguments that the two seemed to have, but it was also one of the only topics that Connor seemed ever insistent to talk about that didn’t revolve around a case.

That made it unavoidable.

Goddammit. 

“I don’t think that qualifies as the same thing, Lieutenant.”

“Take my word for it. Let’s just go over the case.” To further his point, he swept his hand over the case files that had piled up on his desk the last couple of weeks. One large unorganized mess of manila folders and reports. “If Jeffrey dumps any more shit about it on my desk, I’m going to resign it.” It was a harmless jab in an effort to get Connor motivated, anything involving the words case or leads never failed to catch his attention.

Connor straightening from his rare hunched posture proved that fact rang true. 

Even after finally closing the deviancy case. 

The conversation, begrudgingly, wasn’t done though. It would be brought up again eventually. Unless the kid forgot or got distracted with something else.

Who the fuck was he kidding?

Connor never forgot. He didn’t possess the ability to forget. Maybe his stubborn nature could be argued with but in the last year or so being his partner, it was something that Hank faced with raw aggression and chose to avoid. 

“Could’ve originated from the peace rally.” Hank went on, rubbing at his chin with faux concentration at the various folders opened up in front of him. He didn’t think any of them were relevant to their current case anyway. “The dates between that and the first android incident are pretty damn close together. Then again, maybe it’s just a weird coincidence.” The words unfolded into a low mutter under his breath, slumping back against his chair. 

He spinned to the side to assess the clutter, a quick sweeping gaze over the mess and he retrieved the file that they needed and extended it to the android. 

Connor’s eyes had followed every movement, and Hank assumed he was judging his lack of organization. 

At least he kept his mouth shut if he was.

“Two guys were sent to the hospital last night.” Hank went on.

“According to the reports from Officer Miller, they were walking home from a Red Ice Anonymous meeting.” Connor confirmed.

Of course he’d kept up to date.

“They were jumped. He went to ask them some questions, bust aside from a brief statement, we ain’t getting much out of ‘em right now.” While he spoke, Connor flicked through it with practiced precision while simultaneously picking it apart. For what he already didn’t know, and Hank didn’t figure that was a lot. 

And while it would be denied for the rest of Hank’s life, he would never admit that he was even somewhat jealous of Connor. If humans possessed the ability to see anyone’s information by a quick scan or retaining an entire casework of information in a few seconds, the meeting and getting-to-know-you shit of social relationships would be made easier by miles. Then again, he didn’t need any superior programming to know that his time would be better spent at home with Sumo. 

“According to their file, Mr. Greene and Mr. Nicholson did in fact have a Red Ice history in the past.” 

“That bit checks out with what Chris managed to get from ‘em at least. Not the worst druggies I’ve had the pleasure of dealing with.” A smirk pulled at one edge of his lips. If they were the worst of the worst, his job would have been a lot easier and most cases would be an opened and closed one. 

“Possession and usage that earned them a few months jail time.” Connor confirmed, turning a suddenly quizzical gaze in his direction, dipping his chin. His brows pinched. “Wasn’t Detective Reed assigned all cases involving Red Ice?” The mention of their most eccentric detective was enough to pull a look of discomfort from the android. 

Maybe it was the ill memory of the beating that he’d been forced to give him in the evidence room last year. Either way, Hank swore that Connor had some kind of satisfaction from it. He didn’t think so. 

The bloody nose that he had given Perkins however? Fucking classic! 

“He is, but there was Thirium found at the scene. No fingerprints on the weapon that was likely used in the attack. We’re looking at another Carlos Ortiz case except we can push an android through a fair trial now.” 

Connor closed the case folder in his lap, his fingers plucking gingerly at the corner. That spinning yellow circle glared accusingly. “If the claims of their whereabouts are in fact correct, then I think that our best course of action is to question them ourselves. Maybe they can recall more when the shock period has passed. Distinct characteristics, how many androids there were in total, even.”

“Not to bust your balls kid, but we can’t scan a serial number like you can. Not to mention all of you androids have the same face. There’s no record of them ever owning an android, but…” Hank threw up his hands in surrender. “Maybe there’s a past history we don't know about. We’ll follow another lead over the next few days,” he decided. “See if they can’t give us anything else by the end of the week.”

With that, Hank breathed out a long-winded sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose, squeezing his eyes shut as though fighting off a headache. Connor was a headache enough, the case being the migraine. He waved his free hand over his desk. “Take your pick. God knows we’ve got plenty.” A pained laugh slipped past his lips, almost incredulous. Borderline sympathetic. 

For them.

Propping his elbow on the chair’s armrest, he leaned his head against a curled fist. His partner’s gaze was distant, even as Hank tried to meet it with a vague curiosity of his own. 

He waited.

“What are you thinking, Connor?” No response was offered, that same accusatory yellow glaring at Hank just out of the corner of his eye. 

Connor’s features folded, looking to an empty space at his right. Upon further inspection, Hank noted that nothing was there, looking between the two confirming the assumption that he was in some far off place elsewhere. An abrupt snap of his fingers in front of Connor’s nose brought him back. He raised his eyebrows, tilted his head. “Nothing. Nothing relative to our case.”

“Any other time you’re pulling leads out of your ass.” The remark was followed by an exaggerated sigh. His eyes rolled to the side. “This is the first time that you don’t wanna input your opinion? Finally hit a damn wall with enough dead leads, didn’t ya?”

A slight tug pulled at one edge of Connor’s mouth, working a tick underneath a rigid jawline. “Hilarious, Lieutenant.” He mumbled.

“It was a pretty damn good joke in my opinion." With a dismissive hand gesture--a quick slice of his hand through the air--he reached across his desk to retrieve one stack of case files. It didn't account for the other large piles but hell, it was a start. 

“That is a personal opinion.”

“What the fuck ever.” Running a shaky hand through his hair--something else that Connor blamed on Hank's poor diet--his gaze never left him, flicking over his rigid form with a blatant curiosity. "We should go talk to Markus. There’s a good chance that he would know somethin'?" 

And then Connor moved from his perch. Carefully--stiffly was a better way of putting it--around the edge of the desk. Long precise fingers fumbled for the coin in his pocket. It rolled across his knuckles, coming to a complete stop as it was flicked into the opposite palm. Hesitation made the movement rigid, not as fluent as it normally would be. A tick worked itself underneath a rigid jawline. Connor didn't look at him, and instead passed by to his own desk. 

"You haven't seen him since the peace rally," Hank prodded. "I think it's about time we paid him a visit, don't you?" 

"I don't know," He answered in what was almost a whisper, voice low. Unsure. "I've assessed the database's files and all of the reports involving our missing androids. I have only come to the conclusion that older models, or new deviants are being reported disappearing from Jericho. That and it's still limited to Detroit and only a few surrounding cities.” He shrugged. “So far." 

Connor shook his head in defeat. "My most recent solution was to send a scan parts to Cyberlife, but-"

"All of the missing reports we’ve managed to solve end with the android self destructing and destroying their systems," Hank finished for him. "That and its considered murder with your rights. Can't just go pulling apart an android and not expect to get your ass busted." 

"I do not know if an exception can be made for some kind of malfunction. I could probe its memory, but there is no evidence as to how that would affect my own systems." 

"Keeping you at a distance makes the shit harder." Hank agreed, and other than nodding in response, Connor offered no comment. "Until we can figure out if it can be spread, there isn’t much that you can do." 

"Why don't you take your chances and see what the hell happens?" An all too familiar and unapologetically arrogant voice drew closer to their desks. Gavin came to a full stop at their desks, arms folded over his chest with a smirk that never ceased to infuriate him. Both of them, he assumed.

He grimaced. 

Fucking asshole.

"Fuck off, Reed. Don't you have your own case?" Hank grumbled, an edge to his tone that Gavin brushed off a condescending smirk.

"Unlike you and the plastic prick, I've actually made headway." Gavin boasted, his interest in Hank diverted to Connor who watched passively. Most of the time he acted as if Gavin was gum under his shoe that he could scrape on the sidewalk and be done with. Like he couldn't be bothered even when he had a gun in his face and death threats on his name. Hank had been guilty of that look once.

Gavin was full of shit, but Hank wouldn't put anything past him. Even now.

"Hey plastic," Gavin halted in front of the android, squaring up his shoulders. The situation would have been alarming if the difference in height wasn't so obvious. Reed had to look up to address him and Connor responded by raising his eyebrows, tilting his head to the right. 

"Hello, Detective Reed."

"I thought that after the walking toasters were suddenly recognized as people you would leave. A detective android prototype hunting androids is still doing the exact same damn thing." He sneered. 

"I assessed that it would be appropriate to remain in the android crimes department to further offer my assistance to the DPD." His hands folded in front of him, meeting Gavin's eyes with that usual infuriatingly neutral expression. The little twitch in Connor's facial features gave him away however, signaling his annoyance at the detective's harsh jobs.

Gavin didn't see it, but Hank knew him well enough that it was impossible to miss. 

"Yet you're still wearing your Cyberlife threads. I'd almost think that you liked hunting 'em down. Does it give you a sick thrill, prick?" 

"Reed!" Hank interjected, rising stiffly from his desk chair. "That's enough."

"I believe that wearing my uniform shows more professionalism than a leather jacket and a relentlessly hostile attitude, Detective." Connor's brows raised and relaxed sequentially, a slight and subtle twitch pulling at one corner of his mouth. 

"The hell did you just say to me, tin can?" Gavin leaned forward, hand clenching at his side into a fist that he pulled back and took aim on the android. 

"I said that's enough!" Hank barked, shoving himself in between them. 

Gavin was shoved back a few steps.

Connor didn't budge. 

"Back off! Can't you ignore him for five fucking minutes?" 

"Fuck," An enraged gaze flicked between Hank and Connor. Gavin snarled in frustration, one hand slipping seamlessly into the pockets of his jacket, the other pointing an accusing finger in the android's direction like it hadn't been the detective that had approached them with the intention of starting shit. 

Hank scoffed. 

"I'll never so much as tolerate the plastic asshole. The day there are two of him is the day I put in my resignation." One last threatening glare was thrown their way, the threat released into a spat. Before either could comment, Gavin was storming off, cursing incoherently under his breath. 

Surprisingly it had gone better than most of the other times. Hank would have admitted that. 

Evidently, every altercation passed by Connor without a second thought. Hell, maybe not even a first. The evidence room incident remained the only time that the android actually retaliated on him. That being that he needed to in order to accomplish his mission. 

Still, he caught Connor's expression as Gavin was leaving. He watched him through distrusting slits, LED flashing yellow for a split second before correcting itself. His jaw was tense, something dark stirring within him, something troubled that Hank didn't quite recognize. It was only when Hank actually decided to speak that Connor finally looked at him, eyes softening into something more calm, relaxed. Normal. 

"Let's go ask Markus some questions. Any idea where he might be?" In a gesture of reassurance that didn't quite reach him, Hank placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Markus has been overseeing the conversion and stock of dormant androids at the remaining Cyberlife stores. We can pull up those that have yet to be listed as maintenance and distribution centers and start there." And as if nothing had changed, as if the threat from the DPD's most eccentric detective had already been forgotten--at least it would have been if he wasn't squirming underneath a clenched jaw--the task of talking to Markus seemed to unnerve him more. Talking to the deviant leader was a task that Connor was less inclined to do over listening to Reed berating him every chance he got. 

The observation was a question for later, and truthfully Hank didn't anticipate an answer. 

Connor stepped back to allow him through first, Hank's hand slipping from his shoulder to dangle uselessly at his side instead. Expression falling flat, he waved him through. "After you, Lieutenant."

[dontcare77ghj]

Safe

Natasha x reader x Bucky

Masterlist      Sleep Series Masterlist      Halloween/Supernatural Masterlist

“There’s a rat.”

The Avengers were all seated in the living room of the tower. Steve had called a meeting and made it mandatory everyone attend.

“What do you mean there’s a rat?” Pietro asked Steve. “Like in the building or?”

“I mean, SHEILD has a rat.” He explained from the front of the room. “Fury’s not sure who, but someone’s been going through their files.”

“What files?” Clint asked. “Weapons? Agents? Missions?”

“Us.” Steve stated. “More specifically anyone who’s ever had any connection with the Red Room or HYDRA.” He said looking at the twins, Bucky and Natasha.

“Great.” Wanda grumbled. “So, they want our information?”

“Yes. They’ve been looking at any and all files SHEILD has on you four.” Steve confirmed. “Fury’s not sure why, but it’s very likely anything on record is now a known fact.”

“Fuck.” Natasha cursed, snapping her head to look at Bucky. “Bucky face time her.”

“Face time who?” Tony asked, speaking for the first time. “What are you two hiding?”

“Are you sure they would’ve gone after her?” Clint questioned, looking nervously at the red head.

“You know HYDRA.” Natasha said. “She’ll be seen as a weakness. James call her tell her to go to her brother’s or somewhere. Just get her out of the house.” She added, looking directly at Bucky.

“Not Barney’s. Tell her to go to my place. I’ll call Laura and let her know Y/N will be staying for a while.” Clint said, making Natasha and Bucky nod.

“Are you three going to tell us what’s going on?” Tony questioned again. “What’re you two so worried about?”

“Our address is on those files.” Bucky snapped, quickly dialing a number.

“Is this another secret wife situation?” Tony asked.

“Not wife, girlfriend.” Natasha corrected, with a slightly panicked look. “But she’s ours and if HYDRA know where we live, they’ll try and take her.”

“Y/N.” Bucky suddenly sighed in relief. “Doll, you need to drop whatever you’re doing and go to Laura’s.”

“Why is the screen black? Y/N can you see us?” Natasha demanded, moving closer to look at the phone screen.

“I’m sorry.” A male voice said, making the two stiffen. “But Y/N isn’t available now. Would you like to leave her a message?” They asked chuckling. A man in appeared on the screen but they didn’t recognize him.

“What did you do to her?” Bucky growled, making the rest of the team watch him wearily. “If you’ve touched one hair on her head, I’m going to rip your,”

“Ah, ah, ah.” The voice cut him off. “I am currently in possession of your little doll. I would suggest if you want her to look as pretty as she does now, you stop with the threats.”

“What do you want?” Steve asked, taking the phone out of Bucky’s hand in case he broke it.

“What I’ve always wanted. I want my twins back. I want my soldat back. And I want the black widow.” They told him. “I’ll be in contact.” They added, hanging up the phone before anyone could say anymore.

“Fuck.” Bucky growled, standing up and beginning to pace. “I said we should’ve gone home last weekend. I said it and if we were there,”

“They would’ve got you both and probably killed her.” Tony cut in, making the brunette and red-head glare at him. “I know you don’t want to hear it, but you’ve got to think logically here.”

“Why didn’t they just say what they wanted then?” Pietro asked. “Why hang up and leave us all wondering?”

“So we can’t track the call.” Bruce spoke up, looking at the blonde. “We can’t find their location; they get to keep Y/N as hostage until they get what they want.”

“We’re going home.” Natasha said. She was standing next to Bucky and giving the team a firm look. “We’re going to see if we can get any information on these bastards at home.”

“I’m coming with you.” Clint said, standing up.

“Clint, you don’t have to do that.” Natasha told her friend, looking softly at him.

“The hell I don’t.” He snorted with no humour. “They might have taken your girlfriend, but she’s my sister. They took my little sister and I want her back.” He said firmly.

“I didn’t know you had a sister.” Wanda said, looking at Clint.

“Add that to the list of things we were unaware of.” Tony commented, shaking his head slightly.

“I made sure she was kept off the books.” Clint told her, after narrowing his eyes at the billionaire. “I wanted to keep her safe.”

“You three go to the house try and find what you can.” Steve said to the three. “We’ll see what we can find, and we’ll look for the rat.”

“Thank you, Steve.” Bucky gave a small smile to his friend. “It means a lot.” He said sincerely.

“Don’t mention it.” Steve said, returning the smile. “Go.” He added. Steve didn’t have to say more as the three were already moving out of the room. They only hoped they could find something.

They didn’t find anything. At least nothing of great use. On the security camera they found a video of three men in all black and masks knock Y/N out, not without a fight, and drag her out of the house.

HYDRA hadn’t called back and the search so far had led to nothing. She’d been gone for a few weeks and her disappearance had taken its toll on the three who knew her.

The team were sitting in the common room three weeks into Y/N’s disappearance, the three making plans and the rest of the team trying to help, when Bucky got a call.

“Hello?” He asked, assuming it would be one of Fury’s updates.

“Accept the face call.” A distorted voice commanded down the line. Before Bucky could respond the line went dead.

“Who was it?” Natasha asked, noticing Bucky stiffen slightly. Bucky began to answer when the phone rang again. He accepted the face time and felt his blood simultaneously boil and freeze.

The man was back on the screen, smirking evilly at Bucky, with a struggling Y/N in his arms. Cuts adorned her face, some deep, some healing and some still bleeding, bruises littered her neck and shoulders and she was being held by her neck. Her hands were gripping his arm and were covered in deep cuts and it looked as if one of her wrists were broken.

“Hello soldat.” The man said, drawing the attention of the rest of the team. Tony and Bruce immediately grabbed their laptops and started typing furiously. “I just thought you’d like to say hello to your little doll.” He said casually, running a finger down her jaw.

Y/N recoiled immediately and attempted to bite his finger. The man laughed as he pulled it away before smacking her across the face. The sound echoed throughout the room and had Clint, Bucky and Natasha seething in anger.

“Don’t you fucking touch her.” Clint snarled, glaring at the man on the screen. The man merely laughed before taking Y/N’s face in one of his hands.

“Your girl is tougher than she looks.” He commented. “I haven’t been able to get a sound out of her at all during our time together.”

“You can have me and Bucky, but don’t you dare lay another finger on her.” Natasha said, glaring at the man.

“Giving up so easily?” He asked chuckling. “This must be what it’s like to hold someone’s heart in your hand.”

“Did you not hear her?” Bucky growled. “You can have us, just let her go.”

“You must take me for a fool.” The man snapped, squeezing Y/N’s face tighter in his grip. “You think I don’t know you’re tracking this address as we speak. You won’t find it.” He promised. “I don’t want just you two, I want the full set. You were ours first and we want you back.”

“You don’t need the twins.” Bucky insisted. “You just need us, and you can have us.”

“It’s not enough anymore.” The man said, shaking his head. “I want the set and I want information. Information I think this little doll knows and one way or another I always get what I want.” He told them. “Say good-bye Y/N.” the call ended quickly, and Bucky threw the phone across the room narrowly missing Pietro.

“Anything Stark?” Natasha asked, grabbing Bucky’s hand in her own as she looked at the man. Tony shook his head at the trio.

“I’m sorry but he wasn’t bluffing.” Tony said, staring down at the laptop. “I couldn’t get a hold of his location whatsoever.”

“But I might have something.” Bruce spoke up without looking away from the computer. “I pulled his call up on my laptop and I noticed something.” He added as the three moved over to stand behind him. “Were you watching her hands at all?” Bruce asked.

“No, I was too busy watching his hands on her.” Natasha snapped, feeling furious at the memory of his hands on her neck, touching her.

“Watch her hands this time.” Bruce said, playing the video. He’d turned the sound off, so they didn’t have to hear the mystery man’s vile words again as they watched Y/N’s hands begin to furiously sign.

“Moving today. London. I love you.” Clint said, reading her signs.

“There’s a few rumoured bases in London and the surrounding area.” Steve informed them. “We should move quickly, once they get what they want out of Y/N, it’s not likely they’ll keep her alive long.”

“They won’t get anything out of her.” Bucky told the man.

“Buck, you know better than anyone else what they do to get what they want.” Steve said, giving his friend a sad look.

“No, they won’t get anything out of her.” Clint insisted. “She’s mute.” He supplied.

“Which might be worse than if she could speak.” Tony said, making the others turn to him. “They clearly don’t know she’s mute or knows ASL. They believe she’s just not breaking. They’re going to make it their mission to get her to speak, to break her. Until they get what they want or she’s dead.”

“Then I don’t know why we’re wasting time here.” Natasha said, getting to her feet. “The three of us will go to London, we’ll let you know if we find anything else to worry about.”

“I’m coming with you.” Steve told the three. “She’s important to you, so she’s important to me.” He added, looking at Bucky this time.

“Thank you.” Bucky said, giving the man a one-armed hug.

“We should all come.” Bruce stated, shutting his laptop as he stood. “It’s a chance to save your girl and to damage HYDRA in the process.”

“I’m up for a little destruction.” Tony said, standing next to Bruce. Wanda and Pietro agreed and stood next to the rest of their team.

“Thank you.” Natasha said, nodding at the team. Everyone quickly went up to their rooms and began to pack a bag and their weapons.

“We will get her back.” Bucky promised as Natasha threw items into her bag. She sighed and stopped packing to face her boyfriend. “We will.”

“I know.” Natasha said, moving over to him to wrap his arms around his waist. “And when we do, they’re all going to pay.” She vowed.

It had been a week since they got the second call. They arrived in London that night and began to work. They’d scoured every rumoured base in London and the surrounding area, except one. It was in the countryside and it was near impossible to see, unless you knew what you were looking for.

“Steve, you, Wanda and Pietro will take care of any agents that attempt to attack. Tony, you and Bruce can have a field day and play with their computers and files. Me, Clint and Buck will find Y/N.” Natasha told the team in a no-nonsense tone. She was fully decked in gear, along with the two men, ready to take out the world to save their girl/sister.

“Got it.” The team told the woman. It was only a few more minutes before chaos ensued and everyone did what they had to do.

Clint, Bucky and Natasha ran ahead of the fight and into the building. Praying they would find the girl alive.

 Reader POV

You grit your teeth together in agony. If you could make a sound, you would’ve been screaming right now. The man who had orchestrated your extraction from your home was a sadistic bastard, you decided.

He thought you were just being stubborn when you didn’t make a sound. Thought you were just very well trained when you refused to speak or give him any information.

Even if you could speak, you wouldn’t tell him anything. Why would you? He wanted to hurt your brother, hurt your lovers. He could go to hell for all you cared.

“You’re starting to bore me.” The man sighed, turning the electricity off. The current stopped surging through your body and you let out a breath. “Usually I can get anyone to break in a few days, you’ve been with me a month and still nothing. You haven’t spoken, you haven’t screamed, you haven’t made one little noise. It’s awfully boring.” He said, circling the chair you’d been strapped down to.

He grabbed your chin tightly and forced you to look at him. “We’re going to play a new game. It’s called truth or punishment. You tell me the truth about what you know, or I douse you in water and try electrocution again.” He waited several seconds for you to answer but you only pulled your chin out of his grip. “So, you pick punishment, have it your way.” He snarled, spinning away from you.

The man doused you in icy water that made your teeth chatter and your skin burn. Several more wires were connected to your body and the man stood next to the switch with a smirk.

“You brought this on yourself.” He told you and flicked the switch. You opened your mouth and let out a long silent scream as the burning sensation travelled through your body. The sensation only lasted a few seconds before the door burst open. Your eyes were still screwed shut, so you didn’t see who entered, only felt the electrical current suddenly stop. You refused to open your eyes as your body continued to shake in the chair.

“Y/N, Y/N open your eyes for me, sweetheart.” A voice said as your restraints were undone. You shook your head as you heard the sound, you didn’t want to play this game.

“Darling it’s us we’re here.” Natasha said as fingers ran through your hair. You pulled your hands over your ears and started mouthing, I don’t want to play, over and over. A set of hands, one warm and one cool, grabbed your hands and pulled them away.

“Baby doll, this isn’t a game. This is real I promise, open your eyes for us, please.” Bucky cooed softly. It took several seconds for you to open your eyes and when you did, they filled with tears.

They were here. Bucky, Nat and Clint. They were here and this time it wasn’t one of his sick games. They were real. You launched yourself at Bucky and started sobbing into his neck.

“Shh, we’re here. You’re safe now.” Bucky cooed, pulling you off the chair. Your legs were so weak you immediately collapsed and would’ve fallen to the ground if not for Bucky.

“We’ve gotta get out of here.” Clint said, drawing your attention to him. “She needs medical attention. Sweetheart where does it hurt the most?” He asked, looking at you.

Your hands were still shaking violently, and your wrist bent at an awkward angel, but you tried to sign anyway.

My wrist, I think it’s broken, but everything hurts. Everything burns.

“We’ll get her to the quinjet.” Natasha said. “We can at least set her wrist and deal with some of the deeper cuts.  We’ll have to get her to the med bay for treatment for the electrocution and to see how bad her wrist is.”

Without another word Bucky lifted you off the ground and gently, but firmly, cradled you into his chest. The four of you began running out of the building before making it onto the jet. A man you recognized to be Tony Stark was inside along with Bruce Banner.

“She okay?” Dr Banner asked, rushing over to the four of you as Bucky set you down.

“She’s going to be.” Clint said, watching you in worry as you flinched as you shifted wrong on the chair. You turned your gaze to your brother and narrowed your eyes at him.

She is sitting right here. Don’t make me smack you, Clinton.

“I’m sorry.” He told you as Natasha and Bucky snickered at him. Natasha began to set your wrist as Bruce cleaned some of your cuts. “But no more signing for a while, you’re going to hurt your wrist even more.”

Raising your other hand, you mock saluted the man while rolling your eyes slightly.

“I like her.” Tony commented, smirking at you. “Why have you three been keeping her to yourself all this time? If you had have introduced me sooner, we could’ve been sarcastic buddies by now.”

“Tony you two can get acquainted later.” Bruce said, grabbing a jar and needle from the medical bag. “Y/N, I’m going to give you something to help you sleep.” Bruce said, looking at you, needle in hand.

At the sight of the needle you visibly recoiled and shifted away from Bruce. Natasha put her hand on your shoulder to stop you moving, Bucky grabbed your uninjured hand and Clint kneeled in front of you.

“Hey sweetheart, look at me. Look at me. You’re okay sweetheart.” Clint soothed, taking your face in his hands and making you look at him. “You trust me, right? You trust Nat and Buck?” He asked and you nodded. Of course, you trusted them.

“Then trust us when we say Bruce is just giving you something to sleep.” Natasha said, squeezing your shoulder gently. You stared at between them all for a few seconds before slowly nodding.

“Ok?” Bucky asked. You nodded again and squeezed his hand before pulling it away and then signing okay. “Okay. Go ahead, Bruce.” Bucky said, turning to the doctor. Bruce nodded and slowly injected the needle into your arm. The effects were fast and soon you were asleep.

“The next time I find you trying to pull that IV out, I’m going to tape it down and then I’ll tape your hand down.” Natasha threatened, handing you a glass of water. Placing it on the bedside table you quickly signed;

But it’s itchy and annoying.

“I know it is, but Bruce says you need it. So, you are going to put up with it and stop signing. Use the whiteboard or you’ll screw your wrist up.” Natasha scolded, narrowing her eyes at you as you went to sign your response.

You rolled your eyes before grabbing the white board next to you.

Happy? You wrote.

“Very.” Bucky said, coming back into the room. “Clint called, he said he and Laura are about halfway here. They should be here in a couple hours.”

They didn’t have to come. You wrote. I’m going to be just fine, they didn’t need to drive all the way here.

“They love you, just like we do.” Natasha said, sitting next to you. “They were worried about you and they want to make sure you’re okay.”

I am fine.

“We know, but we were all scared when you were taken.” Bucky told you, taking a seat next to Nat. “We want to make sure you’re safe.”

Meaning I’m not going to be left alone for awhile?

“A long time.” Natasha confirmed. 

I don’t mind. I love you guys.

“And we love you too.” Bucky said, leaning down to kiss you. Natasha took his place when he pulled away. Natasha shifted so she was laying next to you and Bucky crawled over to your other side.

Laying between both your lovers, knowing your brother and sister-in-law were going to be with you soon, you had never felt safer.

Taglist

@piper-koko-barnes-rogers @skeletoresinthebasement @hopingforbarnes @agent-barnes40

Show your support. Give it a like. Leave a comment. Share with your friends and reblog. Inbox/Message me any comments, ideas, pairings you’d to like to see, if you want to be added to the taglist or anything you’d like.

Coming soon;

Steve x reader x Bucky

Bucky x reader x Sam

Sam x reader x Sam

Natasha x reader x Bruce

Steve x reader x Sam x Bucky

Natasha x reader x Sam x Steve

Natasha x reader x Bucky x Sam x Steve

Bucky x reader x Thor

Pepper x reader x Tony

Natasha x reader x Peggy x Wanda

Natasha x reader x Wanda

[snowdice]

Gaps in His Files (Part 14) [Relabeled; Refiled Series]

Fandom: Sanders Sides

Relationships: Logan/Patton

Characters:

Main: Logan, Patton

Appear: Remy, Virgil (but only in the epilogue)

Summary:

Logan Berry has learned many things the last 10 years: a lot of math and physics, a bit of humility, and how to be a hero being just a few. Through his education, his experience teaching, and his exploits as the superhero Bluebird, he’s changed in a lot of small and large ways. He has recorded these changes in well-organized documents and files. He’s even had to create two new file designations: a red one for files about his moonlighting at Bluebird, and a light blue one dedicated to his boyfriend, Patton.

When Bluebird is targeted by a memory device and all of those 10 years of progress suddenly disappear, Patton Sanders and Logan’s extensive files are left as his only resource to get those memories back. But what is Patton supposed to do when there are clear gaps in his files? And what does he do when he is one of them?

This is set 25 years before Sometimes Labels Fail though it’s story is completely independent of it and it is not necessary to read that one first.

Notes: Superhero AU, memory loss, past child abuse, past child neglect, unhealthy ideas about ones place in relationships, emotional suppression, self-deprecating thoughts, medical procedures mentioned, very brief unhealthy views of sex

They’re so dumb... just... so... dumb.

Note that I just posted Part 13 a minute before this!! Read that first!!!

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13

When Patton arrived back at his apartment for the first time since Tuesday afternoon (though it felt like it had been much longer), he decided to finally take Remy’s advice. He grabbed a tub of ice cream, sat down on his couch, and just cried for about two hours before he finally fell asleep. He woke to the sound of frantic knocking on his door. Rubbing his eyes, he stumbled to the door and opened it.

“Put this on!” was the first thing the person on the other side of the door said, thrusting a hanger with a white bag covering its contents at Patton.

“Wha?” Patton asked as Logan shoved his way into the apartment.

“We’re going to be late,” Logan stressed. “We can’t be late, Patton!”

“Late for what? Logan what?” God Patton shouldn’t have left him alone. What was he thinking?

“I forgot about the reservations. How could I forget about the reservations, Patton?”

“Logan?” Patton said cautiously. “Are you okay?”

“I am perfectly well, but we need to be to the park by 6, and I have just remembered all of the ways this could go wrong!” As he spoke, he ripped the bag off his own black suit and hung the other hanger up on Patton’s coat closet door before starting to strip out of his trousers.

Patton paused, hopeful. He seemed… more confused than he had been since he’d lost his memories, but… “You remember something?” he asked softly.

“Oh, I remember everything,” he said waving his hand through the air absentmindedly, standing in the middle of Patton’s apartment in his underwear as he grabbed the dress pants and started to struggle into them.

“You remember?” he asked.

“Yes, yes, the coffee shop, the surgery, the dates, you staying over at my place 81.3% of the time because it’s closer to the hospital, the fact that you leave dried up pens all over my living room,” he blathered as he finished fastening the pants. Once he was done with that, he stepped toward Patton and grabbed his face in his hands. “The fact that you will never go along with my plans without some form of argument. Put the suit on Patton!”

Patton gapped at him for a moment before his mouth slammed shut, his hands clenched at his sides, and his eyes started to well with tears. “Maybe lead with that next time,” he spat.

Logan did that double blink thing he did when he was particularly startled by Patton. “Apologies love, you are correct of course,” and oh, how was Patton supposed to stay mad at that? Patton softened, and, when he titled his head up to look him in the eyes, Logan pressed a soft kiss to his lips. “I think we may have a lot to talk about,” Logan said softly, and oh. Oh right. Patton hadn’t really thought though the possible consequences of his outburst now that Logan remembered everything. “But right now, we have somewhere we really need to be. I’ve bought you a suit that will look very pretty on you. Will you please put it on for me, love?”

Patton nodded, brain a whirlwind of emotions, but he got another quick sweet kiss out of it that steadied him enough to do as he asked.

The next thing Patton knew, he was literally flying out of his apartment. Logan said it was the only way they’d make it to wherever they were going on time.

Not wanting to be seen, Logan had to land them a couple of blocks away from the busy park in one of the city’s closer suburbs. He kept looking at his watch as he towed Patton by the hand toward the center of the park

“Um, Logan,” Patton said, “it looks like we aren’t supposed to be here. There aren’t any people and it’s blocked off by rope.” He pointed to said rope with his free hand while trying to tug at the hand in Logan’s grip to make him stop.

He paused and turned to Patton. “Dear, please, in,” he glanced at his watch, “five minutes and 53 seconds, I will be happy to do anything you say, but will you just do as I ask for a little under six minutes?”

“I…fine.”

“Good,” Logan proceeded to pull him towards a blocked off area near the base of the fountain. He searched the ground for something and then pointed at a bit of glow-in-the-dark paint. “Stand there,” he said, and Patton did, shooting him a confused look. “Now face me.”

“Okay…”

Logan took a deep breath now that they were in position. “And with over 30 seconds to spare,” he breathed.

“I still have no idea what’s happening,” Patton pointed out.

“I know,” he replied. “I was supposed to have more than 30 seconds. I was going to walk you slowly through the park and buy you a flower from the vender down the street. I was going to distract you enough that you didn’t even notice the ropes blocking people from this spot, but life got in the way. I should have expected it with you being a doctor and me being me. We have busy lives, difficult lives that get in the way a lot of the time. And you said some things the last few days that worry me and we’re going to have to talk about it and where it came from, but I would like to talk about it. Actually, I insist you talk to someone about it even if it isn’t me. Because our lives are complicated and messy and neither of us are perfect in general or even for each other. But maybe that doesn’t matter because despite all of that, we still somehow made it here in time and I think that might mean something. Something really, really important.”

“Logan sweetie, whatever’s going on, it’s alright. You need to calm down.”

“This is traditionally not a calm sort of thing from what I understand. Anyway,” he said, looking at his watch. “It’s time.”

“What are-” At that moment, the fountain next to them started up, the little white lights that had already been lit on it shimmering like little stars in the moving water.

Logan went down on to his knees and pulled a ring out of his pocket.

“Oh my god.”

“Will you marry me?”

“I…” Patton said. “I thought you didn’t want to get married.”

“What gave you that impression?” he asked.

“You… I asked you to marry me and you didn’t say yes.”

“You did not ask me to marry you.”

Patton stared at him. “I said I wanted to marry you and you said to give you more time.”

He looked like a very confused puppy on his knees in front of Patton. “Yes, for the planning. We had discussed that you would want a dramatic proposal after you expressed a desire to be married.”

“Wha- When did that conversation happen?” Patton asked.

“Two years and 11 months ago in the park by the hospital when we saw a man perform a song to propose to a woman. I had said that those types of proposals made me uncomfortable and you asked me why as you believed they were romantic. I explained that the receiving party would likely feel pressured to say yes in front of a crowd and that such an act could be manipulative. You said we could compromise and that it would be alright if they’d already said they wanted to be married and the other person did it to make them feel loved and surprise them about the day and type of ring, but not the question. You said that would be your ideal proposal.”

“Logan that was our second date.”

“Yes.”

Patton sighed. “Oh honey, I love you. I think we really need to work on our communication skills, but I love you.”

“I would agree after the last few days,” Logan said. “I also love you very much.”

Patton looked down at him still on his knees… because he was proposing. Right. “Oh! And yes! Of course, yes!”

Logan smiled at him softly and Patton wanted to jump up and down, but he also wanted to cry a bit and maybe sorta wanted to throw up a little and not just from the entire tub of strawberry ice cream he’d eaten a couple of hours ago. But the thing he most wanted was what he could tell he was about to get. Logan put the ring on his finger (Patton made a note to actually look at the thing sometime later) and got to his feet before sweeping Patton up into a kiss.

Patton drew back from the kiss feeling lighter than he had in days though not nearly completely perfect. He looked around himself. “Oh, wow,” he gushed. “This is so pretty! You’re so pretty! I’m so pretty! I love this suit. Oh, can we take pictures somehow before we leave?”

Logan laughed at him softly. “I hired photographers of course,” he informed him, preening a little bit, “They doubtlessly got pictures of the proposal and the kiss. We can have them take more if you’d like.”

“Oh, those are going to be wonderful pictures with us in front of the fountain like this. This is the most perfect thing I could ever imagine. I love you so much.” He started to get a bit chocked up. Logan pulled him into a hug and gee, that was even better than the kiss had been, especially because they didn’t have to pull away to breathe for a hug. Logan never even tried to pull back even though Patton kept him wrapped up in his arms for far longer than most hugs ever went. He just pressed a kiss to the top of his head and rubbed his back until the ache in Patton’s chest eased enough for him to feel comfortable pulling back himself.

(And then Patton goes to therapy for 5 years and they both go to relationship counseling for 2 years as I have mentioned in Labels Shift. I do plan to eventually do at least a one-shot of Patton in therapy, but I wanted to end on a happier note.)

Want to read more? Here’s the Epilogue.

[dawnwave16]

Reflections - Project Widow Soldier Part 2

I don’t know if I’ll be posting much of my own content again until after the New year so if you don’t hear from m until then, hope you all have a Merry Christmas (Or whichever holiday you prefer to celebrate!) and I’ll see you in the New Year! Also, I don’t think I’ll be continuing this any further as I have no more headcanons for it but I hope you enjoy this anyway.

Part 1

Anyway on with the story!:

Marinette sat in the lounge of the Avengers tower, eyes closed and for once almost completely relaxed. Friday was playing a mix of Christmas music that had everything from Peter Hollens, Pentatonix and Lindsey Stirling to Frank Sinatra and co. Currently, it was 'Grown-up Christmas List' by Evynne Hollens and its wording was making her reflect on the past few months.

When the Avengers had found out she existed she had been worried that she would be dragged away from the life she had made for herself in Paris completely. She had been extremely when Tony had walked into her class and dealt with Lila, Alya and Ms Bustier as it took all the pressure she had been feeling from dealing with those three herself off of her. The fall out from that had been extremely swift with Ms Bustier being replaced by a Ms Pargeter, who was not only a good teacher but made history much more enjoyable! The class had gone back treating her the way they always had before Lila had taken over and while she didn't care all that much about their opinions it was nice to be able to walk through the halls without people trying to trip her. She was also grateful as she hadn't expected them to support her wish to stay with the Dupain-Cheng's nor had she expected them to stick around long enough to help with the Hawkmoth problem. 

That had been interesting to be part of. Not long after they had arrived in France, there had been an Akuma attack that had forced Master Fu to name her as the guardian. Due to this, she knew she wouldn't be able to leave Paris until Hawkmoth was dealt with, and if she was honest with herself, she wanted a true holiday! This led to her asking the Avengers for help, which they were all too willing to provide. When she wasn't working on her hacking skills with Tony to get into the police video archives, she was sparring with Natasha and Bucky to make sure she hadn't lost her skills there. She had gone over her weapons training with Hawkeye too and was pleased to see that despite not actively using her skills she hadn't lost any of them.

They had had their first break when they had noticed that there were no camera's around the Agreste Mansion and gone backtracking to find out why. Seeing the number of bribes the man had paid to various people to make sure the area remained camera free was staggering, to say the least! The next step was to hack all of the computers in the mansion. She knew that Adrian had missed several classes due to photoshoots and she also knew that all the computers in his home were linked so it was simple to slip a program onto a flash drive that would bypass all of Mr Agreste's firewalls and give them unlimited access to all his computers without having to bother about hacking them. Tony had seen the logic in that as it saved time, even if it did require him to have some patience.

Some of the things they had found on those computers, when combined with the police records had been enough to convince everyone that Mr Agreste or Nathalie was Hawkmoth. When Mayura was added to the mix they were almost 100% sure. To be safe, Marinette had lent her mother the fox miraculous to case out the mansion without it being traced back to any of the avengers. Natasha had named herself Kuma Lisa* and her colouring when transformed was a dark red that could easily be mistaken for black. She had almost no white on her and as a result, she tended to vanish into the shadows which was perfect for her spying activities. When she had seen the huge butterfly window and even more damming, the corrupted butterflies that left from it, they knew they had been right. They also knew they would have to be careful as some of the purchases they had seen through the computers had included military-grade hardware and weapons.

With all the evidence they had, Marinette knew she had to bring Adrian in so that he didn't receive a shock during the battle. She had had to think hard about how to break the news to him and eventually decided to slip him a note to meet her at the Grand Paris where she could reveal herself as Ladybug and the Avengers could back up what she was saying. He hadn't taken it well but in the end, he had lowered his head in defeated acceptance. He had then asked what would become of him when his father was arrested and had been shocked when Tony had offered to adopt him. Tony knew of his love of physics and chemistry and had wanted to nurture it though he knew he would need to get Adrian into councilling so that he didn't end up the same way he had. When Adrian had found out about Marinette was adopted her had been more than willing to accept Tony's offer though he was shocked when he found out who her birth parents were.

With the help of her parents and the rest of the Avengers, the battle had gone smoothly. They had Kuma Lisa had waited out of sight near the opening of Hawkmoth's lair and had alerted them as soon as it had opened. With Kaalki's help, the whole team had been on-site within seconds. Hawkmoth had tried to fight back as had Mayura but he just didn't have the skill to go against the Avengers and Ladybug at the same time, especially as for the first time ever, Ladybug had not held back. The fight had been brutally one-sided from the start and within 10min of everyone arriving the fight was over. Chat Noir had been tasked with getting all the hard copies of anything Miraculous related from inside the mansion along with Bruce as they had wanted to spare Adrian from having to fight his father and they hadn't wanted to risk the hulk becoming Akuma bait. 

The fallout all over Paris with Hawkmoth gone was interesting, to say the least. The government had to hire extra psychologists to deal with everyone trying to get used to being able to show their emotions again without fear, yet not knowing how due to having to keep everything suppressed for years. It became a common sight to see adults floundering to situations that they should have normally been able to handle. The mayor had been outed as had several police officials for corruption, new people had been brought in to help and the UN had offered to help out the same way they normally would in war-torn countries in order to help Paris recover.

By the time term had ended she had been glad to get away from her classmates and go on tour with Jagged. She had taken the miracle box with her but had sent all the scrolls and books with Tony to be stored in her room at the Avengers tower. They were in one of her lock boxes for now but she knew they needed to get everything away from Paris as a precaution.

The month she spent travelling was liberating in Marinette's opinion. Sure she had checked every new area for any lost miraculi as Tikki had advised her to but she had also taken the chance to observe what worked the best design-wise for stage vs videos and even event situations. This had led to several wardrobe additions for Jagged and Penny as well as for herself when she found herself dragged on stage to either help translate what Jagged was saying or to sing with him after he caught her singing Halestorm's Amen while she was working on his next stage outfit. The first time he had pulled her on stage for a duet, it had been an instant sensation and from then on it became a regular thing for his concerts. She always insisted on a mask though, she had destroyed her Hydra records but she'd rather err on the side of caution, just in case!

Once her month with Jagged was up she'd headed to New York and met up with the Avengers and with Adrian, who had taken to living in the tower like a duck to water. She had been surprised to find that Tony had given her a whole floor, rather than just a room but apparently each of the Avengers had their own floor too so she just shrugged it off. She had jumped back into her normal training routine now that she wasn't travelling and had enjoyed those first few spars against her parents immensely. It was during one of the no-holds-barred all-out two on one spars they held every so often that Adrian had walked in and been stunned by how fast and hard they were fighting. When they had called an end to it he'd asked how much she had been holding back during their time as Ladybug and Chat Noir. His disappointment when she said that she hadn't used 90% of her skills had almost been tangible but he had understood why she'd done it after she'd explained her reasoning.

They had settled into a sort of sibling relationship soon after that as she tried to teach him moves that would work for him and he tried to learn how to cook from her. It had gotten to the stage that they were banned from the main kitchens due to the number of flour fights they'd had. Somehow they had ended up making sure they had a least one day a week set aside for anime and they had worked their way through SAO, Akagami no Shirayukihime, Seiken-Tsukai-no-World-Break and Isekai Cheat Magician within a week before they decided they needed to slow down. The only downside to watching Anime was that Marinette had picked up the language to the point she no longer needed the subtitles and he still needed them much to his disgust. Especially as she hadn't known any Japanese at all when they started.

She had been at the tower for three weeks when she met Peter Parker for the first time. She had just finished her work out and was leaving the gym area when he'd arrived and had been highly annoyed with Tony, thinking he'd adopted her like Tony kept trying to do with him. She'd laughed but hadn't corrected him and simply carried on her way. The second time they met was when she'd made breakfast for everyone as it had been her turn to do so as one of the few who could without burning down the kitchen. They'd spoke for a while this time and found they enjoyed each other's company. By the time her summer had ended they had become close friends and she was looking forward to seeing if any more would happen. She'd had to go back to Paris for the new school year but Adrian had decided to enrol in a school in NY instead of going back to Paris as he had too many bad memories there. Marinette didn't blame him at all for that.

School hadn't changed all that much when she returned for the new term. There were the same faces, the same subjects even though they had new topics within them and for the most part there were the same teachers. She hadn't held back as much as she had in previous years, blaming her time at the tower for her slightly more advanced knowledge. She was still bored though and although she had missed Tom and Sabine when she had been away from them she had looked forward to coming back to America again. Especially as things with Peter seemed to be getting more interesting.

Marinette was startled out of her memories by several of the Avengers walking into the room.  

“All good there malen'kaya oshibka?” Bucky asked. (Little bug) “Yeah, I'm alright zhuzhzhaniye.” She replied (buzz kill) “Just thinking about how crazy everything has been since you all dropped into my life.” “You wouldn't change it for the world and you know it Bug,” Adrian said even as he settled on the floor in front of her. “True,” she admitted quietly “I'm just glad I have somewhere I can be me, you know what I mean?” Adrian nodded as did most of the Avengers. “Enough with the heavy thoughts, people. It's Christmas! That means presents and getting drunk and possibly eating too much!” Tony said effectively interrupting her thought process again. Jarvis changed the song to 'December Song' and by seemingly mutual agreement the ones sitting closest to the tree started to pass round the presents that had amassed underneath it. The rest of the day was spent enjoying their time together and living in the present. They knew that should anything threaten any of them, they would face it together.

*(Kuma Lisa is a fox from Bulgarian folklore and Russian folklore who usually plays the role of the trickster. Kuma Lisa is encountered with another character known as Kumcho Vulcho - a wolf which is opposite to her and very often suffers from her tricks.)

@northernbluetongue; @liamnl; @vivilakitty