#free my boy from the clutches of corporations

[slippyteas]

༉*.ﾟ𝙆𝙀𝙉𝙏𝙊 𝙉𝘼𝙉𝘼𝙈𝙄

♫ “𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘶𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘦 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺𝘰𝘯𝘦’𝘴 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘥𝘦𝘢𝘥 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘢 𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘨, 𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦”

[the-authoress-writes]

Until Every One Comes Home

Synopsis: Duke Mitchell finally comes home.

Warnings: Family member death, grief, funeral planning, funerals, slight cursing.

Author’s Note: I meant to post this for Veterans Day—obviously, I wasn’t able to, but hey, better late than never.

Are there going to be military inaccuracies in this story?

Absolutely.

Am I still posting this?

Absolutely.

I dedicate this story to all those who served their country, especially to those who made the ultimate sacrifice, and to those who have yet to come home.

Early morning sunshine shone through a small kitchen window, upon a certain Pete “Maverick” Mitchell, though it wasn’t a patch on the affection warming the very marrow of his bones.

Earlier, he’d come down the stairs, toweling his hair dry from his shower, to see the front door of his half of his and Bradley’s duplex open, admitting a goose-patterned fleece blanket-draped Bradley.

“Morning, Dad,” he yawned, using the free hand not clutching his blanket to scratch his curls, causing his blanket hood to fall off his head. “What’s for breakfast?”

“Joining me, huh?” Mav ducked his head, trying and failing to keep back his touched smile.

Ever since they reconciled, Bradley had been making sure to eat and spend time with him whenever he could, and when they purchased the duplex together last year, some part of Mav wondered if the time they spent together would decrease, less absence making the heart grow less fond, and all that, but if anything, it increased—in fact, Bradley spent more time in Mav’s half than he did in his own half.

That Bradley made sure to spend time with him was something he’d never fail to cherish.

“Yeah, isn’t visiting the aged a corporal act of mercy?” the younger man smirked.

Despite the memory of the immediately-thrown AARP letter he got in the mail yesterday saying otherwise, he shot back, “I’ll show you aged, just you wait until hops today.

And are pancakes good enough for you, Baby Goose?”

“Say less, Dad,” Bradley replied, striding to the kitchen, and Mav followed, throwing his arm around his boy’s shoulder.

So, there he was, stirring his homemade pancake mix in front of the stove, waiting for the pan to heat up, while beside him, a more-alert Bradley leaned back against the counter, watching the coffee he prepared brew in the maker.

Mav quietly took in the scene, basking in all the warmth from inside and out, before smiling and laughing quietly.

“What?”

He looked across at his boy, “Nothing—all this just reminded me of something.

I’d come back from deployment, and you’d always ask me to be the one to make breakfast; you’d sit on the counter, calling yourself my “‘sistant”.”

Bradley chuckled, “Yeah, actually—you’d pick me up and set me on the counter next to you.”

“Can’t do that anymore,” Mav laughed, as he poured the pancake mix into the pan.

“Don’t you dare, Dad.

And I don’t think the counter would be able to handle it, for another thing.

You, maybe, me, no.”

Though it was a fact that Bradley had nearly six inches and at least fifteen pounds on him, he protested on principle. “Calling me ancient, and now short?

Getting the shots in early, huh, kiddo?”

“You were the one who said short, not me, and I called you aged, not ancient—I could call you venerable if it makes you feel any better,” Bradley smiled.

Mav was helpless to stop his chuckle. “Call me a classic, then we have an agreement.

Now be my ‘sistant and hand me a spatula, will you?”

Later, while washing the dishes, Mav noticed Bradley intently filling out a form at the table. “What you up to, Roo?”

“Uh,” Bradley shifted, idly twirling his pen, “it’s a form to volunteer for honor guard if any deceased Navy personnel come through North Island.”

“Oh.” A sad smile touched Mav’s face. “What made you want to do that?”

“I…” his son scratched the back of his neck, “I couldn’t stop thinking about what you said about your father, and then my father… I, I don’t know—I just, someone should be there for them, you know?

Those who come home.”

He had told Bradley the story of his father while they were growing back together, learning how to be father and son again, but he never expected this kind of reaction to that story. “That’s great,” he nodded.

Bradley ducked his head almost bashfully before looking up, a gravity in his eyes. “They still haven’t found Duke yet, have they?”

Mav inhaled and exhaled evenly while drying his hands on a dish towel. “No.

Not yet.

Maybe one day, though.

I’m just happy that he’s no longer called a traitor,” he nodded, remembering the day Viper and the other members of VF-51 had managed to get the record set straight, Duke having been posthumously promoted to Commander and awarded the Navy Cross.

“He’ll come home too one day, Dad, I’m sure of it,” his boy confidently said.

“That would be nice,” Mav said wistfully. “Anyway, any special requirements for volunteering?”

“Nah, just gotta keep my uniforms close at hand, probably will have to buy a set for base, just in case, but nothing else, really.”

“That’s wonderful that you’re doing this.

I’m even prouder of you, Bradley.”

Bradley’s mouth twisted, and he sniffled a little bit, “Thanks, Dad.

Love you.”

“Love you more, Baby Goose.”

Mav didn’t think much more of this, other than when Bradley would come down for breakfast or in the middle of the day in uniform, or when he spotted Bradley come out of the locker rooms in them.

They would just exchange grave nods, the older aviator immediately understanding what was going on.

And then, very early one day, even by navy standards, Mav woke up, not sure what had roused him.

A moment later, his phone dinged with a message; a grope around the nightstand later showed that the message was from Bradley.

“Hey Dad, got an early arrival.

I’ll see you on base.

❤️🐓”

He smiled, admiring how dedicated Bradley was to his honor guard duties, sending off a “❤️” of his own.

Just as he was about to doze off, his phone rang again, this time with a call, the tornado siren ringtone indicating that it was Cyclone.

The thought of ignoring the call flitted through his mind, but he thought better of it, not wanting to risk his posting as a TOPGUN instructor and CO of VFA-223, the “Black Cloaks”, consisting of everyone selected for the uranium mission detachment training.

“Mitchell,” he spoke into the phone.

“Maverick.

You’re required on base ASAP.”

The words were familiar, but the tone was new: it was… almost gentle?

“Sir?”

“Be here by 0630.

Wear your blues, Captain.”

And with that, the line went dead.

He’d be lying if he said that dread wasn’t making boulders sink in his stomach as he buttoned the jacket of his blues, tucked his cover under his arm, and grabbed the keys to his infrequently-used Jeep, given the dress blues.

Eventually, he arrived on base at 0625, and the dread in him increased tenfold when he spotted Cyclone and Warlock standing outside NAWDC Headquarters, in their own blues.

He exhaled bracingly before he picked up his cover, and placed it on his head as he stepped out of the car.

Given the seeming gravity of the situation, Mav deemed it prudent to stand to attention and snap off a smart salute, once he was within four steps of the admirals. “Sirs.”

“At ease,” Cyclone nodded. “With me, Captain.”

It took a while longer than it would have for him to realize the three of them were heading towards the hangars.

Cyclone stopped them inside the hangar where Mav sometimes had classes, and just stood there, watching the runways, facing the longer one, being used as runway 36 today.

In a few moments, a C-5M became visible, landed on 36, and turned onto the apron, halting there.

From another building, preceded by a vehicle, twelve dress blue-clad officers in two single file lines stepped solemnly onto the apron.

Even at a distance, he rationally knew Bradley was one of those officers, but was still perplexed as to why he was here.

“With me, Captain,” Cyclone repeated, and they walked to the honor guard.

As they got closer, Mav saw that Bradley was indeed one of the honor guard, the head of the line closest to him, in fact, and the emotion on his boy’s face was puzzling, but he didn’t have much time to make sense of Bradley’s expression, because three things happened at the same time.

One, he realized that the other eleven members of the honor guard were all the members of his squadron—his kids—every single one of them was here.

Two, he realized too late that he was in a position of precedence over Cyclone and Warlock, in their line perpendicular to the honor guard.

Three, a flag-draped casket was carried out of the C-5, preceded by an officer in dress blues, a Lieutenant Commander, by the sleeve braid.

The Lieutenant Commander stopped in front of the trio of Mav, Cyclone, and Warlock, and saluted.

The three of them returned it, and in a shocking turn of events, the Lieutenant Commander addressed Mav first. “Captain Mitchell.”

“Commander,” he said, managing to keep most of the confusion out of his tone.

“On behalf of the President of the United States, the United States Navy, and a grateful nation, it is my honor to return the remains of Commander Andrew “Duke” Mitchell to his family, and to the soil of the nation he died for.”

Mav felt his eyes widen, and his knees weakened in shock, but before he could hit the ground, he felt two pairs of hands supporting his body.

A glance up showed that it was Cyclone on his left, Bradley on his right.

“See, Dad?” Bradley tearfully murmured, “I told you he’d come home.”

“That’s him?

He’s home?” he asked imploringly, his grip on his boy’s arm tightening.

“Yeah, that’s your father, Dad.”

He took a few calming breaths, then nodded determinedly. “Let me up.”

The Vice Admiral and his son lifted him to his feet, and he stood to his full height, facing the Lieutenant Commander. “Thank you,” he murmured.

With a solemn nod, the Lieutenant Commander stepped aside, allowing Duke’s casket to pass between the honor guard, Bradley calling the squadron to attention as they all saluted.

The casket was carefully loaded onto the waiting vehicle on the tarmac, Mav magnetically drawn to the flag-draped casket.

He placed a hand on the sun-warmed fabric, head bowed between his shoulders. “Welcome home, Dad.”

He struggled to keep his composure, but the reality of the situation was hitting him hard, and against his not-insignificant will, a sob escaped his lips, and he swept his cover off his head to rest his forehead against the casket, tears falling onto the red and white stripes like a benediction.

How many years had he dreamt of this, hoped for this, prayed for this?

Now, it was no longer a dream, a hope, or a prayer—his father was here, home.

And that just made the tears come all the harder, silent, trembling sobs now wracking his frame, as Mav gave his father the loving embrace he’d been saving for over fifty years, the bill of his cover in his opposite hand hollowly ringing against the metal of the casket, like a bell finally tolling half a century late.

What could have been an eternity or seconds later, he felt himself tugged into Bradley’s strong embrace, hearing, more than seeing, the squadron close ranks around him, shielding his renewed grief from any prying eyes.

The next thing he knew, he and Bradley were seated in Cyclone’s office, the Vice Admiral talking about the funeral arrangements. “Your father will be buried with full honors, regardless of where, with provision for a flyover, location and weather permitting.

However, should you like him to be interred at Fort Rosecrans, all expenses will be paid by the Navy, up to and including re-interment of your mother in an adjacent plot.”

“Oh,” Mav breathed.

Fort Rosecrans was where everyone special to him was buried.

Goose.

Carole.

Ice.

It also meant that he’d be able to visit his mom and dad a lot more than if he had his father buried next to his mom in his hometown. “I’d like that—both of them together again.”

Cyclone nodded gravely. “I’ll start making the arrangements.

There’ll be some paperwork you’ll have to sign for the exhumation of your mother, among other things, but I’ll do my best to take care of as much as I can, make things easier.” Cyclone paused. “My condolences, Maverick.

He’s home now.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“You and Lieutenant Bradshaw are dismissed for the day, as is your squadron.

Go home.”

“Thank you, sir.”

Mindless, and still in shock over the whole thing, Bradley guided him out of the office and back to the parking lot, where he helped Mav into the Bronco.

The drive back home barely registered in his mind, and eventually, Mav found himself on his couch, in his usual white t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants with red and black-striped fluffy socks (gifted by Jake), practically burrito-wrapped in Bradley’s goose-patterned fleece blanket, a hot bowl of spaghetti in his lap, Bradley himself next to him.

“Eat up, Dad, come on,” the younger man gently encouraged.

“How?”

“Uh, fork to mouth is how most people do it,” his son chuckled.

“No—I mean—my dad?”

“Oh.” Bradley swallowed, continuing, “well, the Commander in charge of organizing the honor guards asked me why I volunteered, and I said that my godfather’s dad had gotten shot down during Vietnam, and that they never found him.

He asked me for your dad’s name, said he’d look into it.

I was hoping for good news, but even I never expected this.

They found him on the side of a mountain.

It seemed painless, by the way, according to the report, based on what they could see on the remains.”

He nodded, grateful for small mercies, idly twirling the noodles onto his fork.

A gentle silence fell on them both, punctuated by the clinking of Bradley’s fork against his bowl, and his chewing.

Mav eventually wormed his hand out of his burrito, to rest it on his boy’s arm. “I can’t thank you enough, Baby Goose,” he breathed, voice breaking on the last word.

Bradley froze and slowly turned to face him, brown eyes shining, “Don’t thank me, Dad.

It’s the least I could do; after all, you brought me home—it was only right I bring someone home for you.”

Tears welled in his eyes again. “Oh, sweetheart.”

“Come here, Dad.”

It didn’t take much convincing for Mav to lean into the offered hug, tears he didn’t know he still had in him spilling over.

“I’m sorry I’m such a fucking mess,” he sniffled, however long after.

“You’re not a mess, Dad,” Bradley spoke into his hair, “you’re grieving your dad.”

“He died decades ago,” he protested.

“And he’s only come home now.

It’s not like you had time to process Duke’s death properly, Dad.

You had to take care of your mom, then you had to survive shitty foster home after shitty foster home, then you had to survive NROTC, then you had to survive flight school, and then—”

“I think I get the point, Brads,” he smiled through his tears.

“My point is, this is normal; don’t beat yourself up for feeling… feelings.

Lord knows you don’t deserve anything else to feel bad about.”

Incomprehensibly, his heart swelled with even more love for this kid, his son in everything but name and blood. “You know I love you so much, right, sweetheart?”

He felt Bradley’s smile on the crown of his head. “Mm-hmm—you only tell me a million times every day, Dad.”

“Only a million, huh?

That’s a horribly low number; I feel like that’s something I should say more—remind me, will you?”

“Ugh, fine.”

The warmth in his son’s tone was a clear contradiction of the seemingly-exasperated reply.

Swiping a hand over his puffy eyes, Mav glanced down at the now-cool bowl of spaghetti. “You worked hard on this pasta and I’m not even eating it yet,” he guiltily muttered.

“No problem, I’ll just stick it in the microwave for a minute.

And it’s jar sauce, Dad, it’s not like it’s your Nonna’s nine-hour marinara.”

“It’s made with love, so it’ll taste just as good.”

“Say that again when you tell me there’s not enough basil, okay?” Bradley chuckled, easily taking Mav’s bowl to the kitchen to heat it up again.

(There wasn’t enough basil in the sauce, but he didn’t mention it.)

As the days progressed, despite all of Cyclone’s help, planning his parents’ funeral was still a to-do—there were so many things to be decided; what date, what time, what caskets, what kind of rails for the caskets, what flowers, what photo (or hell, photos?) to display at the funeral, what chaplain, and most importantly—for Bradley, at least—who would be invited.

“Dad, come on, you got to invite the Flyboys and the Squadron.”

Mav sighed for what felt like the umpteenth time; Bradley had been pushing this for the better part of a day. “Brads, no, I don’t want to be a bother or a nuisance, okay?

I don’t want them to feel like they have to take time to go to the funeral of people they don’t even know.

For God’s sake, Baby Goose, even you don’t have to go if you don’t want to, I’d never force you.”

Bradley indignantly opened his mouth, closed and opened it repeatedly, before taking a deep breath. “You’re crazier than I thought if you think I won’t be there for your parents’ funeral, Dad.

I’m going, and that’s final.

Please tell me you’re inviting someone though?”

“Your Grandpa Viper, he deserves to say goodbye to his wingman.”

“Anyone else?” His son practically begged.

“Penny, because she’d probably throw me overboard the next chance she gets if I don’t, and she can even bring Amelia if she wants.

See?

I’m inviting people, Baby Goose.”

“Dad—”

“Bradley,” he evenly replied, a stern edge in his voice.

After a brief staredown, the younger man’s petulant sigh could probably be heard on the other side of the country. “Let it be known that I highly object to this, Dad.”

“Objection noted, kiddo,” Mav smiled weakly, reaching out to pat Bradley on the arm before changing the subject. “I like these for the flower arrangements—what do you think?”

Mav stared at himself in the mirror; today was his dad and mom’s funeral.

He carefully looked over his medals, making sure the order was correct—he still berated himself for, in his grief, screwing the order up for Ice’s funeral—only noticing the mistake when he took the jacket off that night.

Confirming that his Global War on Terrorism Service Medal was in the fifth row where it belonged, he stared at himself, wondering if his father would be proud of him.

It was pointless dwelling on what ifs and could have beens.

But, the fact remained that he was the only 86er still in the service who didn’t have at least one star.

From everything he knew, he and his father were so alike, even down to the way they flew, so maybe his father would also loathe the idea of stars taking him out of the skies.

A gentle knock snapped Mav out of his thoughts.

Bradley stood just outside his room, also in his blues. “You ready?”

“Yeah, just… thinking.”

“That seems dangerous, coming from you, Dad,” Bradley grinned.

“Well, I am dangerous,” Mav smirked in reply, quickly sobering.

“What’s on your mind?”

“Nothing, just… I’m a Captain,” he admitted.

“Yyyeah… you are, Dad.”

Mav sighed, “I—I’m the only 86er still in the service who isn’t flag rank, that—that’s the point.”

Bradley stared at him, the pieces snapping into place, and he approached, raising a hand to Mav’s shoulder. “I don’t know exactly what your dad was like.

I can’t.

But I know that he went down saving the lives of his squadron.

And I think… that he’d be so proud of how you always make sure everyone comes home.

I know I am.

I am proud of you, Dad.”

Tears, love, and old guilt welled up. “I’m sorry I couldn’t bring your—”

“Stop.

It’s not your fault, and it never was, no matter what stupid shit I said before.

It was an accident.

I don’t blame you, and my father never would.

Now, let’s get off this guilt trip, and get your dad and mom some rest, huh, Dad?”

“Okay.”

Bradley nodded, pulling him into a brief hug. “Alright.

Get your cover, and I’ll grab mine, then we can hit the road.”

The fact that Mav knew the route they would take by heart, able to tell even with his eyes closed, just when Bradley would take a turn, was a little bit depressing, and he prayed that this would be the last time for a very long while that he would have to go to a funeral, most especially a military funeral.

Even his first of those was one too many, he bitterly thought, glancing towards the section where Goose was, as they entered the gate of Fort Rosecrans.

Despite his somber thoughts, he was grateful that it was a beautiful day, with perfect weather for a flight, as he got out of the Bronco to approach the minuscule group of people standing behind the hearses containing his parents’ caskets.

Giving solemn nods of their own, Cyclone and Warlock waved off the salute he and Bradley were about to snap off, allowing them to instead turn to Viper who was with his granddaughter, Erin.

“Mike,” Mav warmly greeted the man who was like a second father to him.

“Kiddo,” the venerable aviator rasped, creaking forward to embrace Mav.

“Thank you for coming.”

“I’d have to be six feet under to miss this, Pete.

But even then, I’d find a way.”

His former CO had gasped in shock when he called the man several days ago to tell him his wingman had been found. “They found Duke?”

“They did.

He’s going to be buried at Rosecrans with my mom.

I’d like you to be there.”

“I’ll be there, no matter what I have to do to get there.”

“Hi, Uncle Pete,” Erin greeted, bringing him back to the present.

“Hey there, Diamondback,” he replied, using the nickname he’d given her years ago, moving to hug her too, mindful not to knock her cover off, the young woman having worn her Air Force blues for the occasion. “Thanks for coming.”

“We know how much this means to you, Uncle Pete, we wouldn’t miss it; and someone had to make sure Grandpa wouldn’t do something stupid to get here, or at least help him if he did.”

Mav laughed, smile only widening when Viper humorously interjected, “Quit talking about me like I’m not here, will ya?” as his still-sharp gaze landed on Bradley. “Bradley Bradshaw—it’s been much too long since I last saw you.

I remember when you were a little booger of a kid; now look at you.

Your old man would be proud.

Rooster, right?

With the 87 'Warriors?” Viper knowingly asked.

Bradley proudly nodded, “223 Black Cloaks now, under Mav, but, yes, sir.”

The retired admiral smiled as if Bradley had passed a test. “Quit it with the sir, son, but you let me know if Pete gives you any trouble, huh, Rooster?

Not too old to whoop this kid’s ass in a hop.”

“Quit talking about me like I’m not here, will ya?” Mav grinned, throwing the venerable aviator’s words back at him. “Excuse me,” he continued, spotting Penny and Amelia making their way to them, the latter striding forward and aggressively hugging him.

“I’m glad your dad came home, Mav.”

He leaned down, returning the hug. “So am I, sweetheart.”

She pulled back, looking back towards Penny. “I’ll let you talk to Mom.”

“Okay.”

After he gave Amelia a final pat, she strode off, declaring, “Hey, Chicken!”

Mav snorted, catching sight of his son’s expression at the moniker, but then his attention was drawn by Penny’s soft, “Pete.”

They had been taking it slow ever since the Uranium Mission, but seeing her never failed to make something in his chest flip flop. “Pen.

Thank you for coming, you and Amelia.”

“Of course.

Why wouldn’t we be here?” she murmured, placing her palm against his cheek.

He leaned into the contact, and her eyes softened even more. “You’re looking at me like that again.”

“Like what?” he smiled.

“Like I’ve hung the stars or something.”

His smile widened, “Only look I’ve got for you.”

She blinked, stepping closer to wrap her arms around him and gently kiss him.

Mav gladly leaned into the embrace, a sigh escaping his lips when she drew back. “Stay with me?”

“Didn’t have any other plans.”

A moment later, Mav decided to get the proceedings started.

Led by the honor guard and the hearses, they began the solemn walk towards the plots where his parents would be buried, Penny tightly grasping his right hand.

Eventually, he distantly saw the wreaths of flowers, the chairs, the twin holes the caskets would be lowered into, the easels with the photos of his parents, and Mav felt his breath hitch with emotion—reality was striking him more intensely than any G’s he’d ever pulled.

He clenched his jaw, willing the emotion back, and just as he felt like it was beginning to turn into a losing battle, he felt someone take his heretofore free left hand.

A glance in that direction showed Viper had replaced Bradley at his left, the older man sending him an understanding look, similar emotion shimmering in his own eyes, the two of them sharing a fortifying nod.

A further glance back showed his boy walking behind him and Viper, strong and steady, a sad smile on his lips, love and blade-sharp understanding in his eyes.

After what felt like an eternity, they arrived at the plots, and had just settled into their seats, when Mav started in surprise; a large hand had clasped his shoulder and a familiar voice whispered into his ear, “What do you think you’re doing, starting without us, Shortstack?”

Mav turned in shock, seeing Slider right behind him, with all of VFA-223, Hondo, Hollywood and Wolfman, Chipper, Cougar, and Merlin approaching, one and all in dress blues.

Here, more familiar faces started to arrive—the Darkstar team, a couple of his fellow TOPGUN instructors, various NAWDC personnel, and then various North Island staff.

Mav couldn’t believe it—at the end, there had to be at least thirty people assembled around the gravesite.

Dots immediately connected. “Why are all these people here?

How did they know?” Mav whispered to Bradley.

“Well, word gets around, Dad—and it’s not like North Island’s that big,” Bradley nonchalantly replied.

He hissed, “Bradley Peter Bradshaw.”

The younger man squirmed in his seat, sheepishly muttering, “The squad and I might have… facilitated certain ears hearing about this.”

“Brads—why—I told you—”

“Dad,” Bradley reached out, “People care about you—the Flyboys wanted to be here for you. Despite what that nasty voice in your head tells you, and like, ninety percent of the brass hating you, a lot of people like you and want to be here for you.

Everyone here clearly wants to be here for you.”

Slider huffed, “You’re not a nuisance, Mav.

You’re family.

The real nuisance was you not calling to tell us all, but good thing the Baby Goose went behind your back.”

Mav rose from his seat, “Sli, I’m sor—”

Slider gently tugged him into a tight embrace. “It’s ok, just promise you’ll remember what brothers are for next time, huh?

Not a lot of us left, we gotta stick together,” he said, referencing the loss of Sundown not long after Ice’s passing—a harsh blow to the Flyboys. “Don’t listen to that voice in your head anymore, Mav.”

Wordless, he nodded. “Thank you.” Mav lifted his head to see his brothers, Hondo, and his squadron surrounding him, not a trace of anger in their faces. “All of you.”

Warm smiles and reassuring murmurs came from them all, and Slider patted him on the back. “Let’s get to work, Shortstack.”

“Okay.”

The ceremony proceeded according to plan, and eventually, it was time for Viper and him to hammer their wings into his father’s casket, but to his shock, before anything could happen, Omaha and Halo rose instead, unpinning their wings of gold as they went.

They hammered their wings into the dark wood of his father’s casket, then saluted.

Next to stand was Yale and Harvard, then Fritz and Coyote.

(Thump)

(Thump)

Two by two, his squadron went up and hammered their wings into his father’s casket, then saluted.

Payback and Fanboy.

(Thump)

Phoenix and Bob.

(Thump)

Bradley and Jake.

(Thump)

As Bradley circled back to his seat, Mav caught his eye, a shocked and wondering expression on his face. “I know we’re not your dad’s squadron, but hopefully we’re good enough,” he softly said in response to the unasked question.

Tears were already tracing Mav’s cheeks at seeing his squadron give his father this honor, but it didn’t stop there.

He was just about to tearfully thank Bradley when his attention was drawn by Slider and Chipper striding forward as they too, unpinned their wings.

(Thump)

Then Wood and Wolf stepped forward.

(Thump)

Cougar and Merlin.

(Thump)

One and all, his brothers hammered their wings into the casket, tightly grasping his shoulder in affection as they moved back to their places at his wing while he struggled to maintain his bearing, his heart swelling with love for this family who’d chosen him.

When no one else stepped forward, it was here, that Viper rose and drew a battered pair of wings from his jacket pocket, steps slow but even as he approached the casket, now covered in gold wings.

He gazed at the wings, a small, proud smile on his lined face, then with a gentle nod, he lifted his hand to place his own wings on the casket.

The sound of his fist hammering the wings in resounded through the air, the elderly man snapping to attention to salute his late wingman one last time.

When Viper turned, Mav rose for his turn, gently setting down the neatly folded flag in his chair.

It was this part he hated the most in all the military funerals he’d gone to, even more than the flag presentation, because it made everything feel so definite, the proverbial final nail in the coffin.

But this time, it felt almost like a relief—for once, his hands didn’t tremble as he unpinned his wings, and as his fist struck the metal into wood with the rush of wind and roar of F-18s overhead, Mav felt a weight being lifted off his shoulders; with his final salute to his father, he felt one of the oldest wounds in his soul beginning to heal.

The next thing he knew, the funeral was over, and he was standing before his parents’ graves.

Everyone was filtering back to the road, but he was seemingly frozen to the spot, staring down into the freshly dug earth.

He felt like he was waiting for something, the expectation in the air so thick he could almost taste it, but Mav didn’t know what it was.

Unbidden, the words “Talk to me, Dad, Mom,” slipped from his lips, barely audible even to his own ears.

Just then, a rushing sea wind blew through the cemetery grounds, and in the distance, he could see two birds dancing in the currents of air, soaring upwards into the sky, gradually disappearing in the distance.

The wind abruptly gentled, and though his cover had stayed on during the flyover and through the rushing burst of wind, it suddenly flew off his head.

He turned to follow its path, finding it already in Bradley’s grasp, who had a hand held out towards him, Penny, his brothers, Hondo, and his squadron—his kids, all standing behind his boy, who had a careful, expectant expression on his face.

“Hey Dad, let’s go home?” Bradley called out.

Mav cast a final glance into the distance that the two birds had disappeared into, a profound peace now in his heart.

He stepped forward, wrapping an arm around Bradley.

“Let’s go home, Baby Goose.”

He did not look back.

The title is taken from the USO motto.

The Navy Cross is the second-highest military decoration given by the US Navy, second only to the Medal of Honor.

Mav’s maroon Jeep can be seen in a corner of the hangar during the first hangar scene.

NAWDC: Naval Aviation Warfare Development Command, under whose umbrella TOPGUN belongs.

The C-5M is a US Air Force aircraft, but the Air Force is tasked with bringing home repatriated remains, no matter what branch of service the deceased is from.

The speech given by the Lieutenant Commander to Mav is an adaptation of what is said at a military funeral, when the flag is presented to the next of kin.

I made use of my Italian heritage!Mav headcanon here, which I am quite fond of.

The order of Mav’s medals at Ice’s funeral was incorrect, and even though I didn’t have to mention it, I found a way to explain it!

I’m quite pleased with myself for that one…

VFA-87, the “Golden Warriors”, based in NAS Oceana, VA, is Bradley’s squadron in TG:M, as seen by the patch on his flight suit.

The procedures detailed for the funeral are a rough approximation of the protocol for burials at Arlington National Cemetery.

Clarence Gilyard Jr, who played Marcus “Sundown” Williams in Top Gun (1986), passed away on November 23, 2022 from an undisclosed protracted illness.

Technically, hammering wings tridents into the casket is a SEAL tradition, but 1), this is a thing in canon, 2), it’s supposedly spreading to the other warfare qualifications, and I don’t know, I think Duke deserves it after the Navy crapped all over his reputation.

Bonus: They had a potluck at the duplex later, because Bradley thought ahead and had the Daggers bring food to his/Mav’s place.

Taglist

@themareverine

@callsign-skydancer

@permanentlyexhaustedpigeon88

@tadomikiku

@malindacath

@aviatorobsessed

@lynnevanss

@djs8891

If you’d like to join my taglist, just send me an ask!

[fandom-susceptible]

Good Omens/Supernatural Crossover

Okay yes it's been done before but I have an idea I haven't seen in a fic yet, nor can I find the posts I saw about it before that put the initial idea in my head, so here we go.

Aziraphale and AJ Crowley as Castiel's parents.

Good Omens universe remains fairly consistent, but we switch out Gabriel's antagonist role for Michael. Also, all of history has lasted as long as it has in Supernatural instead - the ineffable husbands have just been officially a couple for around the 6000 years. Castiel isn't credited with anything important from before 4000 years ago or so; because he didn't yet exist. SPN Michael and his followers subbed in false memories of him for the angels that had to work with him directly. (I don't know if that works in SPN but it would work in GO so fused canon)

Some angels - those who were issued corporations in the beginning (not all were) were given the ability to produce lower level angels early on, but that ability is linked to their true forms and corporations, which are physical manifestations of how they want to appear. By the time Castiel came into existence most angels had lost their corporations, but there were still a few left. Crowley is the one who nested and had their fledgling, but it took a lot out of him. Michael was able to catch him unaware, in a moment of weakness, and was able to kidnap Castiel. I don't think Aziraphale knew what was happening in the moment, or this wouldn't have gone down like this, maybe at all; Crowley might not have even told him, if it happened early enough, in a panic about whether it might scare the angel off or something. However it happened, they managed to get Castiel into the clutches of Heaven, unaware of his own origins. It helps explain what makes him different from the other angels.

(also, for the purposes of this AU, we're fucking with levels of angel. Guardians of the gates of Eden were decently powerful angels, so we're gonna run with that and put Principalities pretty high on the ladder even though they're not in Biblical lore)

Good Omens proceeds more with the vibe of the books, where the ineffable husbands are "married since the Flood" vibes, with extra shades of resentment because they know Heaven has Castiel. But the Archangels don't know about Aziraphale's involvement; Crowley claimed the angel he'd been with was dead, killed after their bond was established. Heaven kept Cas from Aziraphale not because of concern over what Aziraphale would do, but concern that his investment in Earth would draw Cas towards his demonic heritage, which they had previously kept from him. After all, Crowley's a fallen angel; Cas' true form would still be angelic.

Picking up ahead at Supernatural, though! Castiel still drags Dean out of Hell, but in his betrayal of Heaven at some point there ends up being a confrontation with one of the Archangels, who lets it slip that his known parent was a demon. So he ends up with the Winchesters seeking answers about his own origins. Balthazar ends up joining forces with them out of curiosity and is the one who uncovers the information about how old Cas really is, which angels still had corporations at the time, and ultimately, the only possible angel who still has one - Aziraphale.

Balthazar reports to the Winchesters and Company, who have yet to become Team Free Will (I left off at around Season 6 the first time ok), and ends up going to meet with Aziraphale by himself. By this time Aziraphale knows, even if Crowley was slow to tell him, and the moment Castiel's name comes up, he stops Balthazar and calls Crowley, who arrives as fast as the Bentley can carry him, and Balthazar explains what's been going on in Heaven since Aziraphale dropped off the reports.

scribble in some actual plot here but basically Aziraphale and Crowley end up joining up with the boys and Bobby and Balthazar to save the world, and are Cas' parents along the way. Which naturally lends itself to Destiel, as Aziraphale senses the love changing forms, though he isn't gauche enough to outright confront them in front of each other. He does bring it up gently with Cas in private, reminding him that Dean is a mortal, but also that love isn't, and letting him make his own choice. Crowley doesn't really get it, but he knows well the pain of being denied the chance to love who he wants, so the last thing he's going to do is let anything stand in their way.

Somebody with better knowledge of how SPN progressed from Season 6 can fill in the rest, or me when I eventually get there, just flinging this into the void. Hopefully this latches onto somebody else's brain like it has mine.

[vikenticomeshome]

Cyberchase: How It All Started (Episode 3)

This comic was later renamed to Cyberchase Web Adventures Episode 3.

This is third episode, so let's make the intro more abbreviated.

The only credit for the production was a general copyright by the Educational Broadcasting Corporation. It used to be available for free online. Now, I am archiving it for the fans.

I will use the original 2001 version of the panels with the dark blue border when possible. However, if this is unavailable, I will use the redesigned version with the light-blue border.

If you want to see the comic with the simpler animations, go find my curation from Blue Maxima's Flashpoint Archive Project. I can't reproduce the animations on Tumblr.

I'll save my thoughts for the end, unless I absolutely need to make editor's notes.

Go.

Narration: Having escaped from the clutches of Hacker, Digit returns to Motherboard, and is greeted warmly by Dr. Marbles.

Dr. Marbles: Welcome home, Digit. While we cannot reformat the past - we can upload a brighter future.

Digit: I couldn't have said it better myself, Doc!

Narration: Hacker is furious that Digit changed sides and returned to Motherboard.

The Hacker: Nobody - not Motherboard, not Dr. Marbles, and certainly not that traitorous tin turkey will stop me from becoming the new ruler of Cyberspace!!!

Delete: Yeah, right boss! The new ruler!

Buzz: Gulp! Whatever you say, boss! Right!

Narration: Meanwhile, on Earth, three kids who don't know each other are about to have the adventure of their lives.

Narration: Meet Jackie, who has her own sense of style...

Jackie: I gotta organize this stuff!

Narration: ...and her own way of doing things!

Narration: Matt lives on a farm with his family, and dreams of being the homerun champ. Little does he know he'll soon be a hero of a different kind.

Narration: Matt is into Greek Mythology big time!

Narration: This is Inez - A computer whiz.

Narration: She loves to visit the Cyberworld of the Internet - But never imagined she could really go there!

Editor's Note: Yeah, I still don't know why they made Inez white here.

Narration: Inez has to get to the library before it closes, but she has a bunch of errands to run first.

Inez: Oh, no, this is not good at all!

Editor's Note: There is a later version of this page where they decided that Nezzie needed a helmet. Safety first.

Editor's Note: And now, we play a flash game called "Bike Route".

Inez: Oh Boy! I've got a lot of errands to run and not much time!

Inez: I've made a map that shows all of the places I need to go. Let me show you.

Editor's Note: Her checklist consists of Home, Betty's House, Post Office, Video Store, and Library

Narration: Inez needs to figure out the shortest number of blocks to get all her chores done and get to the library on time. Can you help her do it?

Narration: Here's a map to use. Inez can do the chores in any order, but she has to end up at the library.

Narration: This box shows the number of blocks you have left to get to the library in time.

Narration: These are all of the errands Inez needs to do.

Narration: Click on the blinking dots to move Inez around.

Narration: Well done!

Narration: You got to the library just in time! Now let's go on with the adventure...

Narration: Back in Cyberspace, Hacker works on a plan that will shut down Motherboard's computer circuits once and for all.

Buzz: Grumph mumph gurgle glunk

The Hacker: Charge me up, boys! It's time to wreak some Cyber-havoc!

Delete: Right, boss, right away!

Narration: Inez, Matt and Jackie are about to meet for the very first time.

Inez: Cool! I made it to the library in time!

Jackie: Man, I've got a ton of homework!

Matt: I can't wait to find out more about that Cerberus!

Editor's Note: The books in Jackie's hands have the writing backwards. The larger one is titled "How to Dye Your Own Fabric". The smaller one is too blurry to make out the title.

Narration: Dr. Marbles is busy giving Motherboard a routine upgrade.

Digit: Here we go, Doc. The Didge has whatever you need!

Narration: Meanwhile, inside the Grim Wreaker, Hacker discovers Inez, Matt and Jackie inside the library.

The Hacker: Yes.. Yes! Pay attention you degradable dunce-buckets, Motherboard's hard drive is about to crash!

Narration: Check out the adventures of the Cybersquad Online & on TV

Narration: Check TV Schedule

Editor's Note: This is another case where I believe the original background for this panel has been lost. This panel states "Check out the adventures of the Cybersquad online & on TV". However, the alt text states "STAY TUNED! THE NEW ADVENTURES OF CYBERCHASE ARE STARTING ONLINE & ON TV JANUARY 21ST!"

And that's the end of the comic.

So, what did I think about it? I enjoyed it. They made some odd choices with some of these panels. The first panel shows Motherboard with the background she got after the virus infection during Season 1 Episode 1 "Lost My Marbles". The second panel clearly shows the Crystal of Calamore that The Hacker retrieved during Season 1 Episode 11 "A Day at the Spa". If this is still canon, then that is a very confusing detail. Of course, with all the expansion to The Hacker's backstory on the show over the years, including contradictory information, we don't know whether this is still canon.

I don't understand why they made the library look like a circus tent. I see circles, squares, and triangles on the railing and trees. They must have adapted a screenshot from the Poddleville Pilot. I can't tell what's sticking out of Matt's bag on that panel. It almost looks like The Map from Dora the Explorer. I wonder if that was an easter egg.

[five-nights-l00sing-br4incells]

(Reposting this from my main, as I am transferring some fandom-specific stuff to my side blogs)

Vincent is a Bunny animatronic that used to belong to a previous much larger but later discontinued franchise of rentals of a bankrupt corporation, whose name is unknown, that was bought by the owners of the pizzaplex after finding them in the catalog section of rare findings, reserved to mostly discontinued projects but also properties from other establishments that Fazbear Entertainment managed to get a hold of or was accepted to be displayed as an advertisement due to their success, like El Chip, as Animatronics with such an advance A.I. are now a trend circling worldwide.

Vincent is equipped with a learning-based engine for cooking recipes, thus the owners of the Pizzaplex nominated him to be a cooking and waitress assistant to the various food-based establishments inside the mall, including giving him the role to be the new face running Chica's cupcake shop...Even if they never changed the name, the colors, or anything to match Vincent's motif and scheme, at least they gave him Chocolate Chip, his cupcake companion that was going to be given to Chica but Fazbear thought that since her character was going to be all about fitness, a cupcake being her companion didn't feel right, so he was handed to Vincent, but the Bunny lets the Chicken visit her old friend.

Vincent had learned quickly that children tend to go to him for comfort or company, especially since most end up at the cupcake shop when looking for a place to stay after getting lost, it comes in handy considering the children see Vincent as a giant Bunny plush due to the fur-like texture on his body.

But as much as he seems lovable, he lacks the social skills to socialize with his fellow animatronics, Freddy was the only one of the Glamrocks who had approached Vincent and not the other way around, as well as glamarionette since they're usually not that sociable but finds Vincent to be tolerable enough to be okay with his presence at the prize counter, he doesn't even mind when he brings lost children who would rather play with toys than eat cupcakes.

With all that said tho, if Vincent and Gregory were to meet, Vincent would probably be corrupted like the others, maybe his coding is a bit trickier to figure out since he was from a different place. He gets partially corrupted and just kicks Gregory out of the Bakery while Vincent is stress cooking to quiet down Afton talking inside his circuits, or even better, he would proceed to go to the Day-Care and hang out with Sun. At the same time, they wait for their systems to be fixed once Gregory finds Afton.

Alternatively, tho, if any of the animatronics didn't get damaged and were actually freed of the control of Afton, Vincent could serve to help Gregory get inside the Daycare to help Sun and Moon once Freddy finds it odd how hyper Sun was according to Gregory, and even more strange considering the ways Moon wanted to go to just get Gregory to "fall asleep" or "get punished", so Vincent is free from the purple guy's clutches and helps Freddy and Gregory, the young boy even comments how similar he looks to Vanny, which could be interesting if they were to use him to know where Afton is hiding, or get his trust into telling what he actually did to the animatronics or any other information of interest that might be necessary.

And finally, if Vincent were to be scrapped for parts to add to Freddy, Gregory would grab the Bunny feet that have rollerblades to increase the speed that also has an auto-pilot mode that takes them straight to any location they have been before instantly, so basically a fast travel device.

--Also, just for the meme...I ship him with Moon

[dasboligrafo]

Poems of Consumption

H Sinno

Joe's Pub

Summer 2024

Guys, I heard about this show and bought tickets within 2 minutes of reading the description:

"a song cycle that uses poetry published in Amazon customer reviews inspired by Mark Fisher's Capitalist Realism."

I KNO RITE?!?!

I admit the Mark Fisher should have been a red flag (like my dude just read the Jameson...? If you need it dumbed down, read the Zizek....?) But I COULD NOT RESIST the premise of a show based on Amazon reviews, which along with online perfume reviews, bad Harry Potter fan fiction, tumblr ship culture, Google reviews of takeout restaurants, AO3 and some of the niche reddit subs, are among the few remaining landmarks of a fast-vanishing topography of ungovernable free public expression and found art, the free www subsisting between the figurative concrete blocks of the totalizing corporate internet . Clutch these to your chests before they're gone forever, dammit! You can see why the premise of a show about Amazon reviews and capitalism was, for me, nearly compulsive.

Boy do I have bad news for you; this show is not about Amazon reviews at all!!!! It's about how bad Amazon/capitalism(?) is and how sad the performer was that he got a grant to sit around writing this terrible show. It's about how much better he is than all the people on the tube who were annoyed about a suicide on the tracks, because he cares about how capitalism killed that guy (probably!) and the capitalist pigs alongside him only cared about not being late to their capitalist cog show. The show had compelling subtext in it, compelling tragedy -- but I hate the move of connecting your personal suffering to systemic, collective injustice. You don't speak for those people, and to speak for them requires more than personal identification. You can't have it both ways, in my book. A work about personal suffering should work on itself until the expression of that suffering is monumental, hermeneutically compelling enough, to star in its own material. To connect it to acknowledged public tragedy (and for sure our absolutely fucked medical care allocation system counts) without more is lazy.

I don't know; maybe I would be more forgiving to this show but for the bait and switch. But like -- the music was bad, the sentiments expressed were trite and underdeveloped, and the performer was largely charmless. I mean have you even heard of Jamie Stewart?! There's a mf that can take a distorted synth line, queer protest, social indictment and mixed media and serve you an art. It doesn't all work, but it doesn't feel this unfinished. This felt like the student project it clearly was.

This is the kind of show you normally see at my cultural bête noire St Anns Warehouse. Do I have a doozie to review from there...

[blessyouhawkeye]

hybe must really fucking regret forcing gfriend and nu'est to disband like.... with bts on hiatus, txt not even coming close to the expected level of success, enhypen still trying to build a fanbase and le sserafim being plagued by scandal even before debut, literally the only guaranteed money maker they have is seventeen

[thepilgrimofwar]

Afterlife

Kaijin clutched his rifle, staring out at the wreckage of the Glymlit Dark. Above him, haphazardly bundled flares burst overhead like fireworks as the celebrations continued. The Garlean Empire had fallen at last, and for a brief moment, this dark place at the edge of Othard had ceased to be a battlefield and his hands trembled with indecision.

“Never thought I’d see the day,” said Yuka, breaking the spell that seemed to grip the Corporal.

“Never thought I’d last long enough.” Kaijin replied as he looked back at her, watching as his second in command cradled her rifle like a child in her arms. 

“With how you conduct yourself? I’m not surprised,” she jested lightly. “So is that what’s eating you? That you’re still alive when so many others aren’t?”

He considered her words for a moment before taking the lifeline that she had offered and pulled himself back. “No. Not quite. It just feels like I just lost something important.”

“Your purpose?”

“More than that, it’s like life has very abruptly lost its colour.” he said, staring out into the celebratory light show that illuminated the bleak no man’s land before him.

“Was the war that important to you?”

“It was,” Kaijin replied softly. “The decisions I made and the wars I fought in Doma’s name, were all in her service. But she is free now,” Kaijin stated, as if it were everything. “And by extension, so am I.”

Yuka remained silent as she joined him by the scarred hillside, looking out into the battlefield wreckage from the war they had won. “I don’t follow,” she said, wanting to.

“I’ve only ever lived my life for others. Doing what they wanted of me. My entire life’s purpose was dictated to free Doma and I was glad for it. It made life easy, throwing my life at a worthy cause. But now that the war is over…” Kaijin trailed off, unable to find the words. “I don’t know how to go on. No battles left to fight. No cause to give myself to.” The man looked at his second in command. “Do you follow?”

“I think so,” she said quietly, “but I don’t understand. You’re free to live for yourself now, to find another worthy cause. You can do as you please.”

“That’s the problem,” Kaijin sighed and smiled at how stupid he felt. “I don’t know how to do as I please. I don’t know what I want. Anything that comes to mind simply pales in comparison to the endeavour we just saw through. It’s all…Pointless.”

Yuka nodded, figuring out that it was the first time Kaijin had even considered life. “After Doma pulls us off the line, I’m going to go home. I’m going to find a nice boy who doesn’t mind a noisy woman for a wife, and start a family. Why don’t you consider doing the same?”

“I don’t think I’m cut out for that,” he replied.

“Well, never know until you try.” Yuka chuckled, patting her friend on the shoulder. “But seriously, you had to come from somewhere before you were given to the Liberation Front. Go there, you might find a new purpose there.”

[beskarberry]

Star-crossed

Bargaining with Beskar, Chapter 11

(The Mandalorian x f!reader) (+18)

"His heartbeat picked up to a wicked cantor, echoing in his helmet like a storm of leathery wings. Whispering demons crawled up his brainstem and dragged beloved memories down from his skull and into the light of judgement. Memories of you."

<-Previous Next->

Rating: Explicit

Word count: 9.k oh no

Content warnings: Major angst, nightmares, premonitions, auditory hallucinations, unsavory parental figures, paranoia, domestic disputes, child endangerment, violence. No smut in this one, the only thing getting fucked in this chapter are our feelings.

A/N: This one hurt to write, there were definitely some tears shed while putting this together this so fair warning do not expect this one to end well. :(

High above the metal decking of the engine room, you were elbow deep in an exhaust port, clearing away the slag to replace one of the durasteel plates that had started to warp from the excess heat. You were singing, as you always did when you worked; a vulgar, brassy shanty that was almost louder than the reciprocating scraper in your hands. You spat and wiped a wayward chunk of grease from your mouth, the taste of it oily and burnt. No matter how many times you’d been taught the lesson of ‘keep your mouth closed’ you couldn’t help it. Whenever you worked, you sang.

Raucous as a mudhorn in heat and louder than a full grown krayt, your songs were a favorite of your unit, and the chief of engineering would often come stand a while and listen; though the moment he was caught eavesdropping he would scold you for not working harder. Tough love is what he called it. He was yelling at you now from far below at the base of the hyperdrive engine, and you pushed your goggles up your grime-smeared face to see him.

Bilgerat! Get’cher ass down ‘ere, posthaste!

Yessir!

Now you were standing in front of the chief, though there was another man standing there too. Tall, thin and pale with eyes like a dead fish and a tight, steelset jaw. You didn’t recognize him, but he looked important, his lapel shining with the badge of a high-ranking officer.

You there, girl, sing.

Sir?

Don’t argue with me, child, I heard you from three decks over. Sing.

Being watched made you nervous, but you did as you were ordered. You sang something, maybe everything, either way the stranger watched you, no, judged you, his eyes never leaving your face. The dead-eyed man furrowed his brow and stroked his chin thoughtfully, but you had already stopped watching him, caught in your song, powerless against the siren song that was your own voice.

It always felt so good to let loose, your voice could set your soul free, and yet it also felt like it was pulling something in. Something greater than yourself, flowing through you, connecting you to every living thing that ever was or ever will be. Your boots were firmly stuck aboard the starship called the Wyvern’s Tongue, but your songs carried your heart to the farthest reaches of the galaxy, to worlds beyond your durasteel home.

~

The humming is what woke Din up, though he hadn’t slept much through the night anyway, too suspicious of the artifact he had found aboard his ship. Fully armored, sitting on the floor and leaning against the wall of the borrowed quarters he had stood guard over his tiny clan, dozing in and out of restless sleep.

He lifted his helmeted head to zero in on the noise you were making. It was one he was familiar with, you often hummed in your sleep, it was something he loved about you. The warm, wavering sound coming from the floor where you had made a nest of quilts for yourself was comforting, but tonight something about it seemed off.

He watched you sleep, noticing the way that your fingers twitched and your legs kicked behind you slightly. It wasn’t like you to be so energetic, so distressed. Clutched to your chest the foundling purred softly, but you didn’t seem to hear him. Your hums turned to whimpers, making the Mandalorian’s blood run cold.

She’s having a nightmare.

She’s perfect. I’ll take her.

But sir, she’s m’best bilgie. How’ll I-

Is that insubordination I hear, Chief Wellers?

N-no Cap’n Forescythe. She’s all yours.

Good. Come along, little sparrow, your talents are being wasted here.

You remember being so scared, looking to your chief for reassurance, but he wouldn’t meet your eyes. Though you’d lived aboard the Wyvern’s Tongue since she had left Corellia’s port you’d never actually met the captain. The starcruiser was well over a thousand meters long and home to hundreds of crewmates, putting bilgerats far below the captain’s sphere of influence. What did he want from you?

Each step you took in your dream you got taller, your strides lengthening as you grew from a gangly teenager to a young woman. You were at the bridge now, being sat in a stiff but comfortable chair. You were taught to relay orders, delegate operations, interpret incoming transmissions and their origins. It was a station high above your birthright, but you were never one to turn down a challenge, and you bullied your way to excellence; much to your captain’s pride.

Captain Forescythe was usually described as a cold, unforgiving man, but he treated you remarkably well for a boat-brat dug up from the scuppers, much to the disdain of his fellow officers. He told you that you were a natural talent, gifted by the Maker with a voice so strong, so beautiful, almost like he revered you for it. Much like the ship's namesake, the Wyvern’s captain lorded over you like treasure, jealousy guarding you like a priceless jewel.

The captain’s precious little pet.

Sing, my little Sparrow.

~

Unable to spectate any longer, Din crawled over to you, brushing an armored hand over your sweat-streaked face. “Mesh’la? Are you alright? Wake up cyare, you’re having a nightmare.”

Wake up.

You couldn’t tear your eyes away. Once where a beautiful, peaceful world had once been there was now only dust. The Death Star your ship was escorting had succeeded in her mission, and you had been graciously allowed to watch as the mechanical moon obliterated a billion lives as one would exterminate a nest of roaches. Around you your crew cheered, hooray for the Empire! Death to the Resistance! But you couldn’t hear them.

You heard screaming.

Clawing at your ears and squeezing your eyes closed did nothing to make it stop. As if millions of voices were funneling directly into your skull.

You ran. Ran through the labyrinthian hallways, ran as fast as you could to your quarters. Even your blankets would not protect you, the wailing only growing louder.

Murderers! Monsters! You killed us! Why? Why why why!

You ran from your tiny room, backpack slung over your shoulder, filled with what few things you owned. Ran all the way to the hangar. You’d worked on interceptors a thousand times before when your hands were still small, when you could weasel your way into the narrowest of spaces and prove yourself worthy of not getting jettisoned. Knife in hand you unlocked the security protocols easier than picking your teeth, and the hangar fell away beneath you.

Turning back one last time to glance at the artificial home you had known for so long you saw a figure standing there. Was it the captain? Had he come to stop you? Stop his precious Sparrow from flying away?

No. They were blue, flickering in and out of corporeality. Their face took up your entire mindscape now, their features ever changing, like you were looking at more than one face at a time. The eldritch being’s eyes bored through yours, shifting rapidly from those of a man to those of a child to those of an elder, a hundred lives all demanding to be seen at once. Their mouth did not move when it spoke.

“i̴͊̎t̴'s̸̉͋ ̵͋c̸͑ȏ̸̕m̸͐͛i̸̽͘n̷̾͂ǵ̵”

You sucked air like your lungs had never known oxygen, nearly launching the foundling into orbit as you bolted upright. Beskar burdened arms coiled around you the next second, and you stung your knuckles on his armor trying to fight him off in your panic.

“Ger’off’a me! It wasn’t my fault! I’m sorry! Please!”

“Cyare! Stop! You’re having a nightmare, it’s ok I’ve got you!” Battleborne muscles held you tight against a cold plate of steel while you thrashed until you were coherent. Husband. You let your body relax against your oathsworn and wept, deep, heaving sobs that tore your throat apart and crackled your ribs. Soft shushing noises came through Din’s modulator next to your ear, but the cold metal of his armor brought you little comfort.

“I-I’m s-s-sor-ry.” You stuttered into the fabric of his cowl, the roughhewn cloth soaked with tears. Strong fingers carded through your dampish hair, still not dried all the way from your shower only a few hours ago. Din pressed his palm against the back of your head, burying you in the crook of his shoulder where he could protect you from whatever had scared you. The yellowed tips of his gloves bumped against your unburdened ear cuffs with each pass of his hand, but the leather scraping the metal couldn’t drown out the whispers that still oozed from your thoughts.

Why why why why why why...

“It’s alright, cyar’ika, I’m here. Grogu’s here.” Without tearing your eyes away from the safe haven of his cloak you groped blindly for the baby, finding the disheveled youngling and pulling him in tight. “Can you tell me what happened?” Din asked, his modulated voice soft with worry. You shook your head against your partner. “Alright, that’s ok.”

-ỉ̶t'̸͑̋́̂s̸ ̵̝͕̏̀͠͝c̷̬͙̃̽͌̑̊o̷̅͑̓̈́m̴̧͓͈̭̃͂́̽͌͑ǐ̶̓̕n̷̓̋̚g̵͕͙͎͊̀͊̽!̶̑̀-

You gasped and pulled away from your husband’s comfort, eyes wider than moons, pupils shrunken to pinpoints. Gloved hands found your face, cupping your cheeks and trying to get you to look into his hidden honeywells that were searching your eyes. Unblinking, you looked right through him.

“Can you hear that?” You whispered, your voice far, far away.

“Hear what?”

-I̴̭̊̚͘͘T̷́̽̕S̴̔̅̈́ ̸̋C̸̀͋Ỏ̸̉̄͝M̸̐͂I̶N̷̽͗̈̌G̵͓̎̈̊̀͛͘͠!̶!̷̤̏-

“That!” you shrieked, making both your boys jump. You clawed at your ears, though you knew that wouldn’t help, the voices were coming from inside. “I-I have.. I have to go! I have to go now!” You tried to spring up off the floor, but your arm was caught in the iron grip you knew and trusted, keeping you at your knees. “I have to warn Alewyn!”

“Cyar’ika what are you talking about? Warn her about what?”

The phantom voice wailed again, and you doubled over from the force of it, sending a fresh wave of tears down your face. Din was getting scared now, his eyes wide with worry behind the visor, his throat bobbing around dry swallows. You’d never woken up like this before, so distraught and inconsolable, and it was making him feel helpless. He couldn’t put binders on your emotions, grapple with your fears, slay your inner demons.

“Let go!” You roared and flew from his grasp, tripping over your faceplate and the pile of quilts as you blasted out the door, sprinting down the Sunskate’s curving corridors towards the bridge with your foundling stuffed under your arm. Haunting voices chased you through the halls, making you deaf to the armored thunder that was following dutifully behind.

You charged through the bulkhead to the bridge, nearly busting the durasteel door off its hinges when you flew through it, skittering to a halt in front of the viewport. With wild eyes you searched the void, ignoring the concerned questions that were being asked of you. Where is it where is it where is it?! From corner to corner you scanned, locking your red-rimmed eyes on every flicker, every spark.

Nothing.

Nothing for miles.

Slowly you became aware of those around you, the soft leather gloves of your mate pulling on your face and the warm but worried voice of the Sunskate’s captain.

“Cyare?”

“Tra’laar?”

“Patu?”

Your legs gave out under you and you let yourself be caught in the steelbound arms of your husband, the two of you sinking to the floor with the foundling still locked to your chest. Terror replaced itself with scalding embarrassment, making you bury your unblinking eyes in the foundling’s forgiving tummy. Your eyelids wouldn’t close no matter how hard you willed them to, because they knew that somewhere, out there,

Was a dragon.

“What’s wrong with her? Did you do something to upset her?!” Alewyn hissed, becoming defensive of her ill-begotten rescue.

“No! She had a nightmare, I think. Cyar’ika whatever it is, it’s not real. There’s nothing out there, come back to me, please.” Mando’s loving pleas and careful touches went unrecognized, no matter how diligent they were.

What finally drew you back to reality was the gentle pat pat pat of fat baby paws on your face. You turned your wilted gaze to the foundling, the embarrassment of being seen so vulnerable only growing stronger and more painful. “I-I’m s-sorry, Goober, you s-sh-sh-shouldn’t have to see me like-”

Pap.

Baby beans smacked you softly on your forehead and closed his eyes, making you furrow your brow. “What are you- oh.” Your eyes slid closed, and a warm peacefulness breezed through you, exorcising the whispering voices between your ears. You took a deep, somewhat stuttered breath and let go, feeling whatever weird baby magic the foundling possessed flow through you. The night terror faded to the back of your mind, dissipating like mist until it evaporated entirely from your thoughts.

“Thank you…” You whispered, nuzzling the baby’s chubby belly. Heart rate steady and breath even, you leaned back against the man who was still holding you up. Din rested the edge of his helmet on the top of your head and hummed, a low, brassy tone, sounding relieved. Where his hands were wrapped around your sides you felt the slow roll of his palms, warm and protective. “I’m sorry, Mando, Alewyn, I don’t know what came over me...”

“S’all right, missy, t’ain’t the first time I’ve seen someone go wailin’ through the halls. We all have our burdens to bear.” Alewyn combed a dainty hand through your hair, brushing it out of your face. “Good thing them boys’ve gotcha though.” She glanced between the visor of the Mandalorian that was coiled so defensively around you and the little green baby you held so dearly. “I can tell they love ya.”

You nodded sheepishly and let Din help you to your feet, his hands never leaving you lest you waver. Angrily you wiped at the corners of your eyes, trying to cover your shame as the three of you walked back to your room. When the bedroom door closed behind you, you went straight for the porthole window, cautiously searching the stars again.

“What are you looking for?” Din asked hesitantly, “What… what were you dreaming about?”

“Um. I had a dream we were… under attack.” You lied, your eyes still locked to the void. If you could help it, the secrets of your past would someday die with you, though by the sounds of the whispers you had heard not even death could keep its mouth closed.

“Must have been one hell of a nightmare, I’ve never seen you like this. Is there anything I can do for you?” Din the ever-thoughtful asked, draping a quilt over your shoulders. The fabric was still warm from where you had been sleeping on it, the weight of it reassuring on your back. You shook your head. He glanced at the back of one vambrace, “We’re still another hour from the station, why don’t we get our things packed and back on the Crest? Would that be ok?”

It was better than going back to sleep, you didn’t trust your own thoughts not to terrorize you again, and you nodded enthusiastically. Din didn’t allow you to lift a finger while he zoomed around the little room, collecting your armor and laundry and then you, scooping you and the foundling up in his arms.

“Put me down, tinman, I’m not helpless!” you chided with a weak little laugh.

“There’s my girl. Nope, I’m carrying you. Deal with it.”

You sighed in a heavy, mocking tone, covering your face with your mask like a shy child while he proudly tromped back to the hangar to where your immobile home lay. Once you were all lifted up the half-hanging ramp you dropped graclessly onto a crate with a huff. You were beat, but it felt nice to be back in your ship, the familiarity adding to whatever calming effect the foundling had used. The little green terror was drowsy in your arms, spent from using his wild baby powers to vanquish your demons. You kissed his wrinkly little head and swaddled him in the quilt Din had accidentally stolen for you.

Tinman was digging through the larder, looking for something for breakfast and found a pack of biscuits to give you. Though the suspicious item he still carried in his pocket had kept him sleepless, the need to care for his loved ones overrode every other instinct, making him forget it for the time being. You weren’t hungry, if anything you were nauseous from your night terror, but Din was insistent; and you nibbled on a bright blue macaroon, splitting bites with the sleepy baby.

Eventually a soft beeping chimed from the Mandalorian’s vambrace, stationfall in fifteen minutes. Outside the ship you heard a holler, and you strode to the ramp to find Alewyn and Lilah, ready to bid thee farewell.

”Alright, so!” Alewyn exclaimed, clapping her hands together. “Here’s the dealy-o. The Sunskate can’t actually… dock with the station. M’good ole dad’s still got hunters on the loose, never know when they’ll turn up, eh?” She laughed. “Your ship’s gonna have’ta dock on’er own, but Lilah’s patchwork should hold ya together long ‘nough for the service droids’ta pick ya up.”

You ignored the loud, audible groan from behind you. “I think we can manage that.” You started to hop down off the ramp, but the spry Togruta was already climbing up into the Crest, barreling you over. Alewyn the Affectionate squeezed your ribs so hard you felt the air leave your lungs, making you grunt ugly. One of her nimble hands disappeared from you into her many secret pockets, then snuck into one of yours, leaving a sizable weight of credits behind. “Wynnie!” you hissed against her montral, “Not again!”

“S’least I can do, since we nearly ripped that old bucket’a shit in half and you spared another spacer from the slab.” She held you out at arms length, bobbling her montrals at you with an arrogant grin. “Take care’a yerself, missy. And you too, Mando! Be good to this woman’n’er son or so help me!” The princess raised a fist at him that turned into an outstretched hand. He shook it hesitantly, but the lavender lady reeled him in, and you giggled at his hover-hands while she squeezed the life out of him.

Lilah helped her wife down from the ramp, and the two of them waved before hefting the ramp closed, sealing you inside with your crew. You dashed up the ladder to the cockpit, looking for a horn to honk but there wasn’t one, giving you another item to add to your mental grocery list. Din followed you up with Grogu in tow, taking his seat in the captain’s chair.

The Sunskate’s hangar jaws slid open slowly, pulling a blue force field over the stretch of stars. Far ahead you could just barely make out the shiny little dot where the station was, glittering just a little brighter than the stars themselves. With the cockpit door tightly sealed, Din carefully started up the old gunship, and on instinct you covered Grogu’s ears to protect him from the inevitable backfire.

The Razor Crest sputtered to life and slowly floated out of the hangar door, relying more on inertia than propulsion to get her towards the station. Out the window you saw the enormous rayship that had carried you here bank away from you, the starlight glittering briefly on her copper-colored belly before her propulsion engines flared back to life, and soon enough she was nothing more than a comet streaking through the void.

Din fussed with the radio transponder, opening up a hailing frequency that would alert the attention of the station droids, and it wasn’t long before a large transport unit was making its way to you. The automatic taxi magnetized itself to the roof of the Crest, easing the strain off of your damaged engines.

A robotic voice beeped through the comms: “THANK YOU FOR CHOS-ING EL-GON AU-TO-MA-TED SER-VI-CES. SMILE-Y FACE. CO-MEN-CING TRANS-PORT TO HAN-GAR SEV-EN-TEEN FOR EV-AL-U-A-TION AND RE-PAIR. HAVE A NICE DAY. SMILE-Y FACE”

Din groaned, his fists creaking on the steering wheel. “Why’s it gotta be droids…”

You shrugged in your chair. “Elgon’s old as dirt, prob’ly older than the Crest. I’d be surprised if there wasn’t anything on it that wasn’t animatronic.”

“Great.”

Ahead of you, the station dominated your viewport, humming with a myriad of activity. A neutral starport, Elgon boasted service to any and all as long as they had coin in their pockets, regardless of their commendations or crimes. You’d been to the old outpost many a time, both on your own and while you still wore a uniform, and excitedly you remembered a particular sweets shop that used to operate in the center.

Your service droid was nearly at the station now, approaching a large closed hangar with the number seventeen painted on it in orange Basic. You playfully kicked at the side of the pilots’ seat where Din’s butt was unguarded by the arm rests. “You excited to get fixed up, bucket boy?”

He nodded, he was ready to get back on the trail towards the last bounty. The thought of hunting again reminded him of the Imp device in his pocket that still mystified him, reigniting buried suspicions. I should ask her about it, maybe she knows what it is. He hadn’t wanted to disturb you while you were showering, or when you were getting ready to sleep, so being the polite riddur he decided he would bring it up with you in the morning.

Din reached into his pocket, closing his fingers around the mechanical spider, ready to pull it into the light when the hangar doors opened.

Revealing a blizzard of white duraplast.

“Oh fuck.” Your collective hearts went through the decking at the sight before you. There, swarming the station proper were dozens of Imperial stormtroopers, their eggheads covering the hangar like dirty snow. “Get down!” you hissed at Din who was already two steps ahead of you, sliding out of the pilots seat and under the dashboard. You tore the faceplate off of your crown and stuffed it into his hands along with Grogu and caged your two boys in with your knees, determined to keep anything mando-factured out of sight.

“Are you fucking kidding me?!” Din spat, slamming his fist on the floor. “This station is supposed to be neutral territory! We need to turn around, we can not stay here!”

Under you the Crest swayed gently in the droid’s grasp before being lowered onto a maintenance skiff, the hoversled bouncing slightly from the weight of your ship. Desperately you threw levers and pushed switches, trying to get the Crest to restart, but her engines were long gone, the turbines spinning almost mockingly slow. You weren’t going anywhere.

The comms light lit up on the dashboard with a soft chime, and on reflex you went to answer it when Din grabbed your leg. “Don’t even think about it.”

You made ‘what-choice-do-we-have’ hands at him, “Dude we are fucked unless I answer them, I-I speak their language, I can get us through.”

“Yeah? So do I.” He hissed from the floor, smacking the side of his thigh where his firearm hung.

“-Ksst!- hush! I’m handling this.” You straightened your shoulders and set your jaw straight before flipping on the receiver.

The holoprojector lit up in front of you with a tiny stormtrooper. “Identify yourself.”

“TK number SPW dash seven-zero-four-two, engaged in dogfight planetside and in need of repairs.”

“Why isn’t your ship running a beacon, soldier?”

“It's pre-empire surplus, it doesn’t have one.”

“What are you doing flying around in such a relic?” The stationmaster said with a bite of suspicion.

“...Budget cuts.”

They chuckled. ”No kidding. Alright then, what’s your designation?”

Shit, uh... “Prisoner transport unit.”

“Roger. Stand-by for transportation to engineering bay and prepare for inspection.”

The trooper winked out of existence, and you started to sigh with relief when the hand on your boot yanked you down to the ground.

“Prisoner transport unit?!” He rasped once you were at visor level with him on the floor. “Could you have come up with something else?!”

Unwillingly, your lips curled back and bared your teeth at his hateful tone. “There’s a shitload of guns and a goddamn carbonite freezer down in the hold, we’re not exactly delivering cookies. We need to get you two hidden before we get to the mechanics, come on!”

Din watched you drop through the ladder hatch with his heart in his throat, the fluttering organ violently trying to break out of his ribs. The Maker must think this is hilarious. After everything I’ve done to keep this kid away from the Imps we’re just going to go knocking on their fucking door. Everything was stacked against him. He was tired from lack of sleep, he was scared for the safety of his clan, and to top it all off he was becoming more distrustful of the microchip by the second; the mounting tension he emanated filling the cockpit like carbonite fog.

Maybe it’s a tracking device?

That… might make sense. Elgon station was out in the middle of buttfuck nowhere, why else would a shitload of Imps be here if not to capture him and his crew? To take his son? Through the night he had grown suspicious of the item he had found, and a nagging thought had seeded itself in his frontal lobe, one that he refused to give audience.

What if it came from her?

No, that’s stupid. That’s your riddur, she’s obviously not an Imp. He reasoned, slowly soldier-crawling his way to the hatch with his son and your armor in tow. It must have been in the coral already, or come from one of the pirates, maybe they planted it here. But if that’s the case then we’ve been handed right over into a trap. He lept down the ladder with Grogu squashed under his arm, watching you fly around the cabin looking for an acceptable hiding spot for your foundling and a full grown Mandalorian.

Time started to move in slow motion as it usually did for him when he was sizing up quarry. What did her puck say, before I decided not to turn her in? He ran through his mental rolodex, digging for your file. Ex hunter. Guild dissenter. Bribed out of high-profile bounty. Now that he had met the high-profiler for himself he really couldn’t blame you, though it was suspicious that you had returned from the bridge one bounty short after speaking with Alewyn in private.

Alewyn. Princess-turned-pirate, a renegade royal that had made a name for herself literally ripping ships down from the sky. Hunter ships in particular. Awful convenient for her to be right in our line of travel to a station full of Imps out in the middle of fuckall nowhere. He froze, his visor locked to your frantic form. As if…

As if she was waiting for us.

The corners of his lips bared his teeth to no-one behind his visor as the distrust he had sown in his own heart dug its claws in deep. This has been a trap from the beginning! She’s been playing the long con since Tatooine. In his other hand he held your betrothal gift, the beskar faceplate that he had presented to you when you swore your vows. It reflected his own visor back to him, the hazy lighting of the cabin shimmering on the mudhorn embossed on the brow. No… that’s not it… that’s not true, she loves you…

Right…?

Or… so she says. His heartbeat picked up to a wicked cantor, echoing in his helmet like a storm of leathery wings. Whispering demons crawled up his brainstem and dragged beloved memories down from his skull and into the light of judgement. Memories of you.

He’d caught you so easily on that dirtball of a planet, too easily for a hunter of your stature. You’d practically tossed yourself into the arms of a complete stranger, assumed the role of the child’s caregiver without question. Agreed to marry him after barely a month.

Grogu made a sniffling noise under Din’s arm, gaining both of his buir’s attentions. His nebulous eyes were beginning to moisten, threatening to spill over with tears at any moment. Instantly you ran to your baby’s defense. “Hey buddy boy, what’s wrong?” You carefully took the baby from Din, hugging him to your chest and making the tiniest sob bubble out of his nose. “No no no it’s ok, please don’t cry sweetheart!”

“He’s scared.” Din growled in a manner not at all comforting. You glared at the indomitable mountain of metal, offended that he would use such a tone in front of his own son. “He knows when there’s a threat nearby.” Under you the Crest wobbled slightly, signaling the start of her trek to the engineering bay. Tick tock.

“Fuck! Can you get in a storage crate?” you asked frantically, bouncing Grogu on your hip to get him to quiet down. The baby could sense the mounting anxiety radiating off of his buir, and was getting himself spun up into a fresh panic. His cries devolved into sobs, making the hull echo with despair. “Shh.. it’s ok! Baby boy please, we can’t do this right now!”

“Too obvious.”

“Ok, the sleeping cubby? The lockers? C’mon Mando work with me!”

“They’ll tear this ship apart the second it hits the bay. There’s no hiding. That’s it, we’re done for.” Din tossed up his hands and made some kind of noise in the back of his throat, some kind of strained laugh, the husk of it making the hair on the back of your neck stand on end. You knew that sound, it was the sound of acceptance, of defeat.

Like fuck you were giving up. You made to retaliate when something past his shoulder caught your eyes. Expecting you to fight with him he stopped his pacing and glared at you, then followed your eyes to the carbonite freezer. He whipped back around, gawking at you like you’d grown a second head. “Oh fuck no.”

“We are out of options!” you nearly screamed, “I can’t just cuff you, there’s no guarantee that they won't take you and Beans hostage, freezing you would be safer. I-it would only be for an hour or two, tops, just to pass inspection! That thing can unfreeze, right?”

“That is not the point!” Din bellowed, “You are suggesting not only to freeze me but to freeze him as well?” Din jabbed a finger at the baby, a rush of emotions threatening to boil his bucket right off his head. He widened his shoulders, broadening himself so large that he seemed to encompass the entire ship, glossy black eye turning dark and hateful on you. He couldn’t keep his suspicions to himself any longer. “You… has this been your plan all along?”

You balked, “Plan? Plan for what? The hell are you-”

He threw your beskar on the floor and grabbed your shoulders, pinning you against the wall opposite the freezer and making Grogu scream out in terror. Mando’s visor took up your entire field of view, reflecting with your own wild eyes. “Your plan to capture us!” He barked, the malice overflowing like an erupting volcano. “You told that Imp that this was a prisoner transport unit. We don’t have any prisoners on this ship unless you’ve had them since the beginning.”

“Are you out of your fucking bucket?!” You spat back at him, “You think I want to put you in carbonite?! Put my son in carbonite?! There’s nowhere else on this ship to hide you!”

“How convenient.” The joints in your shoulders popped from the force he was applying to them, his weight nearly fusing you with the wall.

“You’re hurting me!” Over you the lights began to flicker, though neither of you saw it with your eyes locked on each other; yours filled with pain and anger, his visor pinning you down as if you were quarry.

At the sound of your pain the tension on your shoulder bones eased slightly, but not enough to let you free of the wall. Scalding shame burnt its way across his face, bitter and stinging. He was hurting you, the one thing he swore never to do to you again, the very first oath he had promised.

You chewed the side of your cheek, trying to steady your words. “Din. I love you. I love Grogu! I lied to that Imp to protect you. I don’t want those rotten eggs to have you, how could you even think that of me?”

She lies. One thing that Din knew about you was that you were unquestionably good at was putting on a ruse, able to sweet-talk quarry or lure droids to their deaths. But the way you took to the comms was different, how you were able to use the Imps own terminology against them, even how you spoke to the pirates before you were ‘rescued’ was delivered with flawless diction. It was too perfect, too natural...

As if that was your real voice.

“I don’t know if I believe you,” He growled, digging armored claws into the flesh of your shoulders, making you suck air through your teeth. Defensively you coiled your arms around Grogu, burying his wrinkly little head against your chest where he would be safe from the man you thought you trusted. Fire cascaded out from under Din's helmet, trying to burn you at the stake. “You told me once that I don’t know you.” His helmet tilted like a serpent poising to strike, words dripping with venom. “But I should have known an Imp when I saw one.”

“I am not an Imp!! That’s not who I am any MORE!” Bulbs exploded around you at your words, glass and sparks raining down from above. The strength of your thundering roar broke the delicate machinery in Din’s helmet, causing his audio intake to screech with feedback. Immediately his hands left your shoulders and went to his ears, trying to protect himself from the horrible noise.

The let-up was all the invitation you needed, and you dropped yourself low; catapulting into Din’s chest plate like a linebacker and knocking him into the freezer. You kicked your faceplate between his boots, thrust Grogu into his arms and punched the activator on the wall, tears flowing hotly down your face. As the fog billowed outward Mando wrapped himself around the foundling, as though his impenetrable armor could protect the child from the nightmare of being frozen alive.

Horrified, you watched as the two creatures you loved most were consumed by the mist, leaving a dark block in its wake that bore their likeness. The metal was already ice cold to the touch when you ran your hand over the glaring curve of your husband's visor, and down to the terrified, tear-streaked face of your baby.

Choked sobs tore at the back of your throat, trying to drown you with guilt. I’m sorry! I’m so, so sorry my loves, I… I did what I had to do. You weren’t given time to process your grief, nearly jumping out of your skin when plasticast fists rapped on the access door with authoritarian vigor. Composing yourself to the best of your abilities, you stuck your finger down the barrel of your blaster, scraping off the dark residue and smearing it under your eyes to hide your welted cheeks.

Glass crunched under your boots as you made your way through the dismembered cabin to the wall panel, punching the buttons with shaky hands. The ramp chuggered and stopped halfway down, but it was down far enough for you to make visor contact with the platoon of troopers who were demanding your attention. Their armor was clean, freshly moulded and recently polished. These weren’t just the Empire’s soggy leftovers, these were new recruits.

Disgracefully hopping down from the ramp among a scurry of pit droids you puffed up your chest and squared your shoulders as you had seen your partner do whenever he was intimidating quarry. You crossed your arms behind your back in parade rest, watching as a painted trooper strode up to you, his rifle pointed at the floor near your feet.

“Stand aside, we have orders to search this ship.”

“Whose orders?”

“Elgon Station is under the Imperial jurisdiction of Admiral Forescythe, no ships in or out without search.”

You felt all the blood in your body evaporate at the name. Forescythe. Shit balls of hell, that fucking bastard is still alive?!

“Is that really necessary?”

The rifle in his hand rose just slightly. “You got something to hide?”

“No, sir.” you said sweetly, hoping politeness would buy you brownie points.

“Stand aside then.” The trooper barked, gesturing to your ship with the barrel of his rifle. You jumped when the heavy access ramp hit the ground, turning to glare daggers at the droid that had unfastened the damaged hydraulics. The stormtrooper marched past you up the ramp, inspecting the interior of the cabin as he went. As predicted, he nudged the lids of the supply crates open, pointing his gun at any would-be threats. Another pair of eggheads followed inside, rudely stomping through the Crest’s belly like they owned the place.

The painted trooper made loud, gross sniffing noises. “Smells like carbonite in here, your freezer might be leaking, better get that checked out…” He trailed off when he clocked the machine and its contents, taking big strides towards it. “Lookit that, Is that an actual mando? I didn’t even think they were real, I’ve only ever heard stories.” He gestured to you with his gun, “How’d you do it?”

“Do what?” You asked coldly.

“How’d you catch him? And his... weird dog?” The trooper tapped harshly on the solidified metal that covered your foundling's eyeball, making your blood pyroclast through your veins, but you remained composed.

“I’m more dangerous than I look.” You seethed, digging your nails into the skin of your arms behind your back. And you’re about to find out just how fucking dangerous if you don’t back off!

One of the unpainted soldiers piped up. “Do you think this is the one they’ve been looking for? The one the Admiral was talking about?”

“Could be, I’ll radio the Wyvern when it makes stationfall, should be dropping out of hyperspace in a few hours.” Cotton seemed to grow in your mouth at his words, making it impossible to swallow. No, it can't be.

-ī̶̱̩͋t's̴̈̅ ̵̛̂̈̋͋̏͘͝c̷ŏ̷̐̓͑ṁ̸͌̋̾̕in̵̨͎̩̠̼͂͜g̷͑̔.-

Shut up. The commander jabbed his rifle at you. “I heard someone say that mandos never take their helmets off, we should unfreeze it and see what it looks like.”

“No.” You barked, making the soldiers flinch. Haha. “He’s very dangerous, even under the effects of hibernation sickness he can still be quite lethal.”

“There’s three of us and only one of it.” A rifle was pointed your way, “Thaw it out.”

Like hell. “Alright, then I won’t have to be the one to explain to the Admiral why a Mandalorian is loose in the station, or dead. I’ve heard he’s a reasonable man.”

The three troopers looked at each other with questioning glances, suddenly unsure. That seemed enough to deter them, and you waited while the troopers barked orders at the repair droids, ordering them to get your ship fixed up. A battalion of robots swarmed the Razor Crest inside and out, almost making you thankful Mando wasn’t there to blast them full of holes. The greasy robots would make quick work of the damage, and hopefully have you out of the station before the Wyvern arrived.

The Wyvern. You wanted to curl in a ball and die. Of all the bullshit the galaxy had to offer it had decided that you deserved a double helping of unwanted nostalgia. Not only was the Wyvern’s Tongue still operational she would be bringing with her good old Admiral Forscythe, though last time you saw him he was just a captain.

Your captain.

And he was on his way.

To this station.

To your ship.

To you.

Oh fuck.

Immediately you turned to your partner for reassurance, only to meet his frozen stare. You wanted to release him, let him carry you safely away from this place, but you weren’t out of the woods yet; so you were both going to have to wait. You’d never been frozen, thank the Maker, but you’d heard stories. How being frozen is like being trapped alive, trying to breathe but not being able to move your lungs. Still being conscious but feeling your blood stop in your veins. A living death.

A waking nightmare.

Repair droids swarmed your ship’s interior like a hive of bees, but they were making quick work of the damage and would hopefully be gone soon. Shaky legs carried you back over to the carbonite freezer, and you leaned heavily on the block of frozen metal, stretching your arms around it in an attempted hug. I wish you were here, my love, but it will be over soon.

You pressed a kiss to both of your boy’s faces and slumped to the floor, leaning on the bandoliered boots behind you. Between the wide open ramp and the droids working on the stardrive you were too exposed to unfreeze your family, and the thought of having to wait even a minute longer made the edges of your eyes threaten to spill anew.

Stars above you wanted this to be over. The back of your throat tasted like bile, and the plasma residue smeared under your eyes was starting to burn. You needed to get away, to blast off into space with your boys and put your draconian past behind you before the literal beast reared her ugly head.

But… now he knows. You groaned into your knees, digging claws into your own hair. He knows! You fucking asshat now he knows! Your greatest, vilest secret had been spilled, and you were going to have to find a way to live with the consequences. He... he’ll understand. Bilgerats are practically foundlings, I just need to explain myself better. Yeah! That’s it! I didn’t have the chance to explain myself. He’ll forgive me… right?

Time seemed to crawl, languid and slow, forcing you to wallow in your own guilt. You cautiously eyed the platoons of troopers that would often march past, trying to glare daggers through their shiny white buckets, but they paid you no mind. The hours ticked by, making you more and more anxious by the second. You had no way of knowing how soon the Wyvern would arrive, could be hours, could be minutes. Could be seconds.

-į̶̱̩̄͋ͅt'̶̡̳̰̝̇s̴̈̅ ̵̧̛̺̂̈̋͋̏͘͝c̷̄͋͛̚oṁ̸͌̋̾́̈́̕͝i̸̇̏-

I’m aware! You snapped at your thoughts, pissed that they were still present long after Grogu had purged them from your mind. I must be going crazy, it’s the guilt. It has to be the guilt. You rubbed at your temples, trying to dispel the mounting tension in your skull. When you opened your eyes a sweeper droid was clearing away the glass shards from the floor, and you cocked your brows at it as it went by. When did the lights burn out?

Eventually the interior repairs were completed to the fullest, and the moment the ramp hydraulics were functional again you slammed the door shut and booked it back to the freezer controls.You turned a pair of knobs on the side of the carbonite block and took a step back. The metal that covered your beloved crewmates turned red, then bright gold, sloughing off in luminous waves.

You jumped to catch Din and the foundling before they hit the ground, his strength lost from the effects of hibernation sickness, nearly causing him to melt onto the floor along with the aurelius sludge pooling at your feet. In your ear you heard both of your boys taking desperate, broken breaths; and you rubbed at Din’s dorsal plate, encouraging him to fill his lungs.

As a unit you sank down to the floor where the child practically rolled into your lap. His enormous eyes were squinty and blinking, making you think that he may be temporarily blinded. “Hey booger, it’s ok, can you hear me?” Grogu made a sad little noise, but that meant he could at least still hear. “There ya go, that’s it, nice’n slow. Y’ok?” The child looked up at you with a twisted expression, then immediately yarked bright blue all over your shirt. “You know what, I deserved that, thanks.”

Din’s modulated cough grated in your ear. “How… long?”

“Couple hours, but the repairs are finished, we can get the fuck outta here now. Are you alright? You gonna barf?” He started to shake his head no, but the shaking might have been his downfall because you felt him start to heave. “Not in the bucket not in the bucket! Come on, up! Heeere we go…” You gently set Grogu down on the floor and bullied yourself up under Din’s arm, dragging him as fast as you could to the fresher. You barely got the beskar out of the way in time for your partner to empty his stomach. “That’s it, let it all out, I gotcha.”

Din hung on to the sides of the fresher like his life depended on it, shaking violently with every hurl, and there wasn’t much else you could do but hold on. He released one armored claw from the side of the fresher to reach back and find you, but when you tried to hold his hand to comfort him he pulled his fingers from your grasp. Again you tried, but this time he didn’t just let go, he pushed you away, and you heard him mumble something into the fresher bowl.

“-..a...tor-”

“What’d you say?”

“Traitor!!!” Din spat, curling back around at you with viciously bared teeth, eyes wild and bloodshot. You backpedaled away from the fuming warrior that was half crawling half leaping towards you, making weak throws that were slowly gaining in strength. “You fucking traitor! I should have known! I should have known from the very fucking start!” You’d never seen him angry without the helmet, and it terrified you. He terrified you.

You put up your hands defensively, backing away from him. “Please! Let me explain! It wasn’t-”

“I don’t listen to Imps!” He swung at you and missed, but his agility was quickly returning. You wouldn’t be so lucky the second time.

“Damn it Din, fucking listen-” Ignoring you, he groped for the gun on his belt, and you were barely able to grab your armor in time from the freezer to block his reckless shots. You crouched over Grogu, using your body and the face plate as a shield against the assaulting Mandalorian. “Din! Stop! Please! You’re going to hurt our son!”

“Our?!” He hissed, snarling around the word. “That is MY son! Get away from him!” Din grabbed the beskar mask and tried to pull it from you, yanking you up from the floor. “MY son does not belong to you, this does not belong to you! Who do you think you are?!”

“Who am I?! I’m your wife!”

He stopped trying to wrestle the lovingly-chosen armor away from you, meeting your eyes with his own darkened gaze. His earthly irises flickered fast between both of your own pupils, searching your face for something, some kind of reminder. A reminder that he loves you. The muscles on the side of his jaw clenched and rippled, chewing on the words he was looking for.

When he spoke his voice was hoarse, but certain, as if there would never be a greater truth than the one he breathed into being.

“No, you’re not.”

The coldness in his tone stabbed icicles in your veins and froze your mouth closed, rendering you speechless. His hateful gaze looked down to the mask still in your hands, twisting into a pained expression. “Did… did this mean anything to you?”

“Din… please…” you begged, you voice barely above a whisper, “It means everything to me, you mean everything to me!” Behind you Grogu was already starting to cry again, making the situation even worse. “I love you! I did what I did to protect you, to protect Grogu! I didn’t want those Imp bastards to take you. Can’t you see that?”

The Mandalorian laughed, miasmatic and sickly, infected with distrust. “Isn’t that just like an Imp, lying right up til the very end.” He let go of the beskar as if it was unclean, then turned swiftly around on his heel, striding to the fresher to grab his helmet from where it had been discarded on the floor. He picked it up and looked into it’s visor, almost like he was debating whether or not he could put it back on. It sank over his head with a hiss of it’s latches, amplifying his dominating presence tenfold.

You pressed on, balling your fists in determination. “It shouldn’t matter who I used to be, just who I am now. I don’t know anything about your past, all I know is who you are now, I know that you are my… ner rid-oor…”

He was on you in a flash. “Don’t make me cut out your lying tongue as well, Mando’a is sacred, I should have never taught it to you.” In one swift motion he grabbed the offensive beskar from your useless fingers and threw it somewhere behind him, the iron clanging ugly against the durasteel decking. He dug behind his chestplate and found the lucky talismans you had given him as a sign of your affection, a sign that he now decided should have been a big red flag, shoving them into your empty hands.

“You have dishonored me.”

The Mandalorian bent to pick the crying youngling up off the floor, carrying him over to the bed you had all shared. He didn’t turn around to face you when he spoke again. “Get out.”

His frigid words had you frozen in place, frozen in time. He’s leaving you. Your mind was racing, your heart flooding with sadness and grief. Words abandoned you, giving you only a whisper of your silver tongue.

“Din.. I-I didn’t have a choi-”

“GET OUT!!!” He ripped your backpack off the wall and flung it at you, making you reel from the impact. The ramp opened behind you, and you were suddenly being shoved out the door, rolling backwards out of the Crest. You scrambled to your feet, clutching the krayt teeth so hard that the edges cut your palms while you banged on the rising wall of steel.

From behind the closing door you heard a sound, faint but desperate, nearly inaudible over your own pounding heartbeat. It sounded distinctly like a baby’s cry.

“Bubu!”

-SLAM!-

The access ramp sealed shut, and a shiny silver dome appeared in the rounded transparisteel viewport where Mando was taking his seat at the controls. Imps began swarming you while the old gunship’s engines flared to life, burning like a newly risen phoenix. Poorly-aimed blaster fire ricocheted off the ship’s hull while her landing gear tucked itself up, and soon the home you had grown to know and love was blasting towards the hangar exit without you.

The Razor Crest slid through the magcon field, the backs of her engines turning bright blue as her stardrive kicked into gear, rocketing her into warp speed just as an enormous star cruiser dropped out of hyperspace, dwarfing the station with her size. As prideful and arrogant as the Empire she sailed for, she took up the starfield with the domineering presence of a ship that had once served as the Death Star’s loyal guard dog.

It could be no other than the Wyvern’s Tongue.

-ȉ̴͗t̴'̴s̶̛̓͝͠ he̷̍̂r̶̔ë̷́.-

If you had a single coherent thought left to your name you would have made a series of snide remarks to the completely useless voice that whispered in your ears. You would have fought back against the stormtroopers that were roughly grabbing you and forcing you down under the barrels of their guns. You would have ran through the station and commandeered one of the other ships that had come in for repairs and blasted off to somewhere, anywhere else.

If you weren’t so grief-stricken, so heart-broken, so lost, you would have hurled literal dragonfire at the man who was approaching you now.

The troop commander spoke first. “Sir, this one allowed the mando to esca-”

“Get her up. Now.” You were hauled back up to your feet, but your eyes stayed on the forcefield that was draped over the stars, just waiting for the Razor to come back around.

To come back for you.

Your view became blocked by a tall, thin man in an Imperial uniform, his lapel shining with an even bigger emblem of authority than the last time you had seen it. His soulless eyes bored right into yours, and you knew instantly by the look on his face that he hadn’t forgotten his favorite communications officer. “Sparrow? Is that you?”

The long abandoned nickname stung like needles in your ears, reeling you violently into the present. The admiral cupped your chin and brought your eyes up, forcing you to see him and stop pretending that he wasn’t real; that he was an apparition brought to life by your wailing night terrors. “It is. My little Sparrow has flown back to me.”

The stormtrooper braved an interruption, “Sir, the mando-”

Admiral Forescythe silenced him with a wave of his hand, “No matter, the universe has brought me something even better than whatever Moff Gideon had been after.” The glare on the Admirals face turned to a sickly smile “Pray tell, little bird, won’t you sing me a song? I’ve so missed your lovely voice.”

You shook your head from his hand and pointed to the electromagnetic cuffs that still hung from the backs of your ears, the last remainder of the beloved faceplate you had been gifted. “Hull breach, tone deaf.” was all the excuse you could muster. A stiff leather glove rose up to brush over the Mandalorian steel, and you fought every animalistic urge to go batshit ballistic, rip the admiral limb from limb.

“What a pity, but at least you can still speak.” He was standing too close now, and the disgust you felt for the man who practically raised you made your flesh boil under his gaze. His gloved hand slid down from your ear and grabbed at the bottom of your jaw, forcing your head to tilt while he inspected the bitemarks Din had put on your neck when he still loved you. “At least you haven’t been lonely, good thing I had you chipped when I did. Shame on you for letting someone defile you in such a manner, were you still on my ship I would have had them jettisoned.”

The Admiral raked his eyes over your disheveled form, from your marked flesh to your blackened eyes and your blue-stained shirt, his face twisting in disgust. “Whatever life you have been living clearly doesn’t suit you, it’s high time you cease this reckless behavior and come back to where you belong.” He bent down and picked your backpack up off the floor where it had fallen, slinging one ratty strap over his neatly-pressed shoulder; then extended a hand to you. “Are you ready to come home now, my little Sparrow?”

You blinked a few times at the question, your heart becoming as cold as stone. Home? The Wyvern was not your home anymore, and the admiral was not your family. But the home you knew, the family you loved was now lightyears away, far far away from where you were now; and they weren’t coming back.

Din wasn’t coming back.

That left only one place left for you to go.

Back... home.

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[kikyan]

The monster I've become

Yandere Eren Yeager x female!Reader

Not a single voice was present and no one else besides you and your younger sibling were present. Constantly running for your life and hiding away from them. 

The Titans

It's shocking that you have lived this far but you have been hiding under a basement ever since the wall had been breached and only came out when your supplies were low.

" A-Are they up there?" You brother (B/N) asked in a timid manner.

You put a hand on his shoulder and smiled brightly.

"Don't worry! Your big sister will protect you!" Reassuring him made his smile grow weakly, but at least he carried a smile.

Opening the latch and closing it quickly, but gentle at the same time. You quickly made your way into the building and began looking around. Luckily this building still had a roof that protected you a little and covered you from the beasts eyes. Looking to your left you saw a titan walking and immediately crouched down and hid.

You waited until it left and proceeded to walk around the building. Luckily aside from building a nice little basement it had some tunnels that stretched to the market place where you could easily sneak into. You gently lowered yourself down and began walking in the tunnel. Upon arriving you got up and looked around. The tunnel connected to a basement in the marketplace that stores excessive amounts of food but to your disbelief there wasn't a lot of food left.

' I could have sworn that the last time I checked there was more food! Even if it did rot it would still be there but it isn't.' You pondered your thoughts more and more but your stomach sank when you heard a 'click' from the entrance to the basement. You quickly hid yourself in some blankets and hoped for the best. You thought that it was impossible for a human to be here aside from your brother and that if it were a titan you would be safe as long as it didn't see you nor hear you.

Clicking sounds were heard and a voice startled you.

" Oi sasha don't sneak in here! If we're caught we'll be in big trouble!" A hushed voice began spending, the voice sounded deep and the voice following after it sounded more like a screech.

" I can't help it connie! I'm just hungry all the time!"

" Both of you need to stop eating before we all get caught! That's for everyone sasha okay?!" A deep raised voice began speaking to both 'connie' and 'sasha'. You peeked and saw a male with brown hair and blue eyes speaking to a female who had medium length brown hair in a pony tail with light gold eyes who was stuffing her face with food.

" It wasn't me?! It was her?! I only followed her!" A male with light brown hair kept nicely shaved with gray eyes began speaking and in attempt to plea for his innocence.

"Eren, we should go." A soft monotone voice spoke. Peering your eyes over you saw a beautiful female with black hair and gray eyes. You beloved that the boy with blue eyes was named Eren and luckily they had plans on leaving. Unfortunately, fate had other plans as Eren began walking around the room.

"Aside from food we can find some things that can help us and the others." He picked up pliers and examined them. As he began examining the room the closer he got to your hiding spot.

'Shit'

" Like this blanket!" Connie ran to the blanket and pulled it off revealing you to them. A surprised scream emitted from connie alerted the others and the black haired female ran to Eren as he began running to you.

" W-Who are you?" Demanded Eren and you slowly began to get up from your hiding spot.

" My name is (Y/N) and along with my younger brother, I believe we should be the only living residents here. If you excuse me I would appreciate it if you stopped shoving our food down your mouth.

" This is our food by right!" Yelled Sasha protectively clutching the food.

"Tch. Listen, this is our food. My brothers and mine. We've been feeding from here since the wall was destroyed so I suggest you leave before something happens." In a intimidating manner you seem to only fuel them more but before any of you guys had the chance to say anything. A small scream pulled you from your discussion.

"(B/N)!!" Not giving a damn you yelled and ran to save your family with the four people you met following you behind your trail. Diving into the tunnel and running as fast as you can.

The sight you saw shocked you but it didn't give you fear. You're brother was still alive.

The titan was on the ground waiting a soldier, but it seems that it didn't go down without a fight. The soldier was able to cut it's legs and bring it down. After the titan finished it's meal his eyes were turned to your brother. 

.

.

.

"OH NO YOU FUCKING DON'T!" Screaming from the top of your lungs you rushed in not giving a damn about the screams from the soldiers you met. Once close to the titan he extended his arm to get your brother, but you used that to your advantage.

Swiftly climbing on top of its arm, you made your way up to its face and repeatedly stabbed it in the eyes. Quickly jumping off, you grabbed your brother and ran to the other soldiers.

"Hey since you seem to be good with that machine you own I'm leaving this titan to you. You grabbed your brothers arm and ran back into the tunnel in hopes of escaping the monster.

"W-WHAT?!" Connie yelled as he began panicking.

~~

(B/N) began hyperventilating as wet salty tears rolled his eyes. Clutching him close you began whispering words of encouragement and rubbing circles on his back.

"Don't worry big sister is here okay (b/n)".

His cries soon stopped as he began to sleep on your lap. You began to pet his hair and soon enough the soldiers came to see if you were still alive. Shushing them you carried your brother back to basement known as "Home" and stopped to see the body of the titan. 

Opening the latch you walked in and set your brother down on the bed and a voice soon cut you off.

"You were amazing back there." You turned around to see 'Eren' complimenting you more and more until he asked a question that began to scare you.

"Why don't you join the survey corps?"

"No. My brother needs me here with him and alive. A change of place would be nice too but if that comes with me joining the survey corps then no thank you."

" With your strengths we could save humanity!"

" All I need is my brother. Humanity can die for all I care." With those harsh words they stopped persuading you but only one boy didn't. As the others left only he stayed behind.

" Humanity can die? How selfish can you be?" Eren slightly rose his voice and with his angry expression met yours as well.

"Selfish? Wow...rich coming from you. You were from the Shiganshina District right? On the edge of Wall Maria? I didn't live that far from you. Your father constantly visited my house due to abuse from my father. Remember us? The (L/n) family? All the drama going on?" Continuing your story Eren's expression changed from anger to shock in less then a few passing moments.

" When the titans showed up some debris of the wall fell on my mother's leg. Me and (b/n) cried and screamed for help. Everyone ran past and some yelled "let her be food". Then I saw my mother being eaten in front of me. I shielded (b/n) but I saw it all. The blood, flesh, and I heard the pleas of my mother. When me and (b/n) ran we were met with a gate and people leaving in boats. We could have gotten safe passage if it weren't for my father. He was next and they asked him if he had family and... that selfish bastard said no so he wouldn't wait. Feel free to call me selfish but keep in mind. Everyone is selfish especially in the end." Grabbing (B/n) you left Eren and swiftly walked to another building.

Eren was shocked. It was true. Humans are selfish and even more when they know they're about to die. His mother was eaten in front of him and he couldn't do anything. (Y/N) however survived many things. The constant abuse from her father and for 5 years survived in a titan infested district. He admired her and felt an urge to protect her. He followed her and saw the rest of the soldiers surrounding her and (b/n).

(B/n) was crying while (Y/N) had a strong glare on all of them. Keeping her protective clutch on (B/N), she scanned her surrounding in hope's of finding some sort of weapon.

" Who are you?"

" She couldn't have survived that long outside. Could she be a titan shifter?"

" Should we kill her and the brat?"

Eren's stomach sank as he rushed over to where Mikasa was.

"What's going on?"

" They found (y/n) and think she is a titan shifter. They might plan on executing her."

Eren's eyes grew in shock and as he ran to her aid, a familiar blonde man grabbed his hand.

" Wait Eren. I want to see how she responds to this."

Eren turned to see Erwin calmly focusing on (Y/N).

"B-bu-"

" If it gets serious I'll jump in."

(Y/N) stood there silent until a soldier appeared before her. He took out a small pocket knife and circled her around.

" That brat yours?"

" He's not a brat, can't say the same about you in your younger days".

" What makes you say so huh bitch?"

" Just the way you act, obviously no one taught you how to act. Well then again not like your father cared. He was too busy getting over his hangover then giving a shit about you. Huh neighbor?"

" You bitch!"

The soldier ran to you with the knife as you slightly pushed (B/N) aside. You ducked down and using your weight threw him off his feet. The knife flew away from him as you picked it up and ran to (B/N).

" Think your hot stuff because you took down one of us?" A second man ran to you and you dodged his attempt and using the knife drove the blade into his eye.

A blood curling scream was present as you took back the knife and ran to (B/n).

"M-MY EYE!!"

Suddenly a man approached you. He had black hair and stone cold blue eyes.

" I don't think getting rid of our soldiers is a good idea...brat."

Glaring at the male you scoffed before someone ran to you. It was Eren.

~~

"Corporal! Please she proved her worth I'm sure we could use her in  the survey corps! Please don't hurt her."

Shocked by his sudden outburst you grabbed (B/N) and feeling a strange protected feeling got closer to Eren. That didn't go unnoticed by him.

" That's not my decision its Erwin's."

" She can."

Turning their attention to Erwin who began walking over to (Y/N) he stopped and smiled at (B/N) before turning to the rest of the Survey corps.  "She joining so please make her feel welcome."

" I never agreed." Stone cold voice accompanied by eyes, you glared at Erwin.

" Of course you did. You want to survive right?"

" I did for the past five years alone with my brother."

" You see now that we found you we have to take you with us. So it's only natural to join."

" Feel free to take me but I'm not joining the Survey Cor-"

" Miss (L/N) wasn't your father involved in human trafficking and the illegal use and smuggle of drugs? Didn't you also partake in that to avoid your family being beat. No matter the reason you still are considered a criminal."

" YOU'RE FUCKING BRIBING ME?"

" Not at all. Simply reminding you that you could come with us and join the Survey Corps or you could go to jail. Remember your brother plays a role in this too."

" DON'T YOU FUCKING TRY!"

" He can see his sister as a hero or be bullied and see his sister as a criminal."

Before continuing to fight back a hug from your brother changed everything.

" Please! Big sister I don't want you to die but I don't want you to be seen as a criminal!"

All eyes were on you as you struggled to speak. Your brother pleading you not to choose one and everyone else who couldn't care less.

" Don't worry (B/N)! I'll take care of your big sister!" Eren said in a cheerful voice as you turned to him.

"R-really?"

" Of course!"

" (Y/N) please! I don't want them to see you as a criminal!"

Looking down at your brother with tears staining his face you looked up and with a sigh....

.

.

.

" Fine I'll join."

~~ °•☆~~☆•°~~

It was the day of the expedition and you quickly changed in hopes in visiting your brother earlier. As you opened the door you were greeted by Eren.

" (Y/N) c'mon let's go see (B/N)!"

" Of course"

~~ mini flashback ~~

They lent you a horse and you quickly followed them. (B/N) was laughing and smiling at the green pasture and the beautiful flowers that were outside. A pain hit you in your head as you remembered that you guys have never been outside. It's always been in the basement and you smiled. Soon enough (b/n) will be able to play with other children. See the sun and live a normal life. You however may not be so lucky. You wanted to not be noticed and be that soldier that if you died they at least acknowledged your death and took care of (b/n). Eren however, wasn't going to allow that to happen. He quickly made an effort to befriend you and your brother.

"Wow big sister! Look what's that?" (B/n) pointed to a white flower with a red stain. Mentally cringing at the red,  you smiled and cheerful spoke up.

" Why (B/N) It's a white rose."

" Then why does it have red?"

No hesitation needed as you looked at it.

" It's blood."

A small gasp escaped your brother but it wasn't because of the flower. Noticing the field of flowers some where red and some white, some both but the both were increasing in amounts. More blood was on them, but from what.

"(Y/N)!!" A voice was all you heard before the sound of speeding horses broke you out of your trance.

Taking off a sweater you wore you tied it around yourself and (B/N). Kicking the horse and gaining speed you safely ran from the clutches of the titan. Problem was..the fact that it wasn't the only titan there. One quickly made its way to you and as fear began piling up you couldn't hear a thing except the cries of (B/N).

The sound of gas and wires broke you out from that prolonged trance and Eren made work of the titans. Killing them both he got back on his horse and rode to your side.

" (Y/N)! Are you okay?? (B/N) what about you??"

You could hear anything but that all changed when you felt the warmth of another person. Eren to specify.  Eren hugged you in attempts to calm the both of you. You directed your eyes  to Eren and hugged him back.

" Don't worry I'll protect you! For you I'll do anything!" Eren smiled but the thoughts behind the smile weren't anything to smile about.

~~

You were assigned living quarters and (b/n) would be living with with your grandmother who survived the attack. Your grandmother was in top shape heck she was 47 years old. She too cried for you and pleaded for you to not join the survey corps but in order to ensure their future you need to.

Being placed in the same squad as Eren wasn't bad but he kept trying to learn everything about you. You didn't mind as you already told him your backstory. Walking with Eren to your grandmother's house silence loomed the both of you for a second.

" Hey (Y/N)?"

"Hm"

" If I were a monster would you still treat me the same?"

" Of course. You saved me multiple times and I'll return the favor. Eren you are my best friend. Of course I'll treat you the same." Sending him a reassuring smile you saw the bright pink tint his cheeks and a slight pout on his face.

Upon arriving at your grandmother's house you smiled and knocked the door only for it to be opened immediately and a little boy screaming.

" BIG SIS!!" (B/N) cheered and smiled brightly. He hugged you and soon ran to Eren.

" BIG BROTHER! You'll protect big sis today right?" (B/N), with worry laced in his words he looked up at Eren and gave the most sad look...Eren ruffled his hair and smiled " Of course!"

Simply smiling you laughed a little before reassuring your family that you would be safe. Walking out of the house you sighed and inhaled.

The smell of dew drops lingered and it was refreshing. A little memory flew through your mind as you smiled.

~~

Loud, harsh thunder roared across the sky as you and (B/N) stayed hidden deep within the basement.

" Big sis I'm scared! That sound!" 

(B/N) was clutching you and his ears for protection.

Safety hugging him back you led him to the farthest area of the basement where less noise resided. Simply humming him a lullaby was enough to make him sleep the night away, but the fear of a monster attacking was present and increasing with every passing second.

~~

  Riding your horse at full speed as you began making your way back. You killed 7 titans in this expedition and were able to get a village under safety as well.

The gate opened and into safety you entered. Luckily no one died which was great but more people were here...unfortunately he was here. 

.

.

.

   You're father. 

~~

The cheers and the distasteful comments were swirling into an inaudible tune. All you could see was the smirking face of that man. As your horse began inching closer he was sweeping through the crowd.

The horses stopped in a halt as your father began approaching you.

"(Y/N), look at how big you've gotten! Where's (B/N)? I presume he's alive. I can't wait to see him."

Those lies that left his mouth were like gasoline with fire, it fueled you. Before you could even open your mouth to curse this man, Eren beat you to it.

" LOWLY BASTARD! HOW CAN YOU SAY THAT WHEN IT'S YOUR FAULT THEY ALMOST DIED! YOUR SELFISH DESIRES ARE THE CAUSE OF EVERYTHING. YOU LEFT YOUR CHILDREN WHEN THEY NEED YOU THE MOST YOU BASTARD!"

Eren argued as your father only looked at him in pure anger.

" I supported my children, saved them and this is what I get? Talk about selfish."

"Big sis...?"

That timid voice broke you out of your mute trance as you turned horrified, to see your brothers frightful face.

" Ah (B/N)! Lovely seeing you too! I've missed you! Have you missed me too?"

" GET AWAY FROM HIM!" You rushed in to wrap your brother in a loving warm hug. Clutching him close to your chest you nuzzled him deep within your chest.

Your grandmother ran to protect the both of you, hearing the constant abuse and the crimes you both were forced to commit the strong sense of judgement turned into pure hatred for this man.

" What you have done to my grandkids is despicable. Don't you even think about saying another word to them."

Before anything serious broke out the words of an old familiar corporal  broke out.

" Disturb a member of my squad and you will face the consequences, criminal."

Your father left and wasn't seen at all that day. It took a while to calm your brother but in the end he went out like a light and stayed cuddling to you like a teddy bear.

~~

" What do you mean "My squad"?"

" Erwin is transferring you into my squad. However we have something more to discuss." Levi said as he opened the door to Erwin's office.

" Cadet (Y/N), sorry for the scene earlier."

" It wasn't your fault, but thank you."

" Now I have transferred you to Levi's squad and you will be in the inner walls undercover. You are allowed to take your family with you."

"Sir bu-"

" Your safety matters more. You are a skilled warrior and I'm sure you'll be fine but considering that both you and your family have a higher risk of being hurt and being forced into a crime we will make sure to transfer you into the inner wall."

You agreed to the choice and prepared to tell your grandmother and (B/N), but your talk did not go unnoticed by a certain someone.

~~

The night was young as you walked to your grandmothers house. Upon arriving there you knocked and spoke up alerting them that it was you.

" (Y/N)? Why are you here so late?"

" Grandma I have something to say. They wish to transfer me to the inner walls and I need to take you with me."

" I have everything here (Y/N), besides (B/N) made some friends. To leave them behind is asking too much from him."

" I know grandma but...(B/N) and you have a higher risk of being attacked by him if you stay here any longer. Please consider it. If you do say yes, please be packed and ready to go early in the morning."

Hugging your grandma good bye and ruffling (b/n) messy hair gave a feeling of content and peace. Your plan was also heard by someone else, someone very close by.

~~

" That brat is going to the inner walls. If I can also gain passage I'll expand the business all right?" A deep voice spoke out to a group of several more individuals.

" Alright man, we'll portal here don't worry. How are you going to get her to cooperate?"

" Fear is something that is easily created don't forget that."

That was the only word he spoke before his bloody body was found in the morning.

~~

The news of your father hit you but didn't exactly affect you. You still were obliged to go and your family in the event that one of his "buddies" wanted pay back. Quickly packing, you made your way.

" (Y/N) are you leaving me?" A voice disrupted your thoughts as you looked behind you to see the lifeless eyes of Eren.

" Its orders Eren. I'm sorry, we can still communicate and you're one of my bes-"

" (Y/N). You can't. A guy does something special and nice only for it go unnoticed?"

The tone and the words all reminded you of him...

" Eren calm down. I don't need you telling me what to do. The safety of both me and my family are strong and I need to go."

" Remember what I said about doing anything for you?"

   ...

" Let's say a life paid the crime of attempted assault. I saved you."

Confusion shook your body as you failed to realize. A life? Who?

" W-Whose life did you take..?"

" Your father of course. His body covered in bruises and burn mark. After that I used a blade to slowly cut him. Every lie he told, every crime he committed, every tear that rolled on your cheek, he felt it with pain. You see (Y/N)..i love you. I desire you. Won't you be mine?"

" W-what...?" 

"You see...your father planned on attacking you. He overheard what you were planning on doing, he was going to attack your grandma and (b/n). I did this for you. You need me to help you, I'll protect you, and I'll love you for life."

Sprinting you ran into the town only to hear the screams of the townsfolk.

"I-i just saw blood leading out of the alley way and i-i-i looked and saw I-i just can't!"

You rushed inside the alley was only to see the mutilated body of your father. Only his head, and limbs were there. The torso was gone...

Running to the house of your grandmother you stopped when you saw Eren standing in front of them.

" ah (y/n)! We were just talking about you! Remember when you told me you liked me? Well seems (b/n) said that was cool and your grandma likes that."

" W-wai-"

" Say yes and they both live."

Those horrid words came like a dark whisper and you swallowed your fear and pride and nodded your head. Leaving surprised and happy gasps, a silent tear rolled off your face.

~~

A week since this toxic relationship and no one seeing the pleas you give. After your father was found dead it was then made clear that you weren't needed to be in the inner walls. Eren took that advantage and made sure he could be with you 24/7. One day with courage you asked a simple question.

" Why me?"

Eren smiled and looked out a window.

" (Y/N) I've always had a small crush on you. When you lived next to us I would see how strong you were and I always tried to impersonate you. Everytime Armin was being bullied I did what I could to help, but it wasn't enough. I could never be you. It wasn't until I found you living under a basement and it wasn't until you revealed to me what you've been going through. That's when I realized that deep down you wanted to cry and scream. You stayed strong for the sake of your family, but that was okay. That gave me confidence that I could protect you and maybe be loved by you. So here we are now. You don't have to fear anything and love me forev-"

" BUT I DON'T LOVE YOU EREN!"

The instant those words left your mouth you were pushed into the bed and your lips sealed by a passionate kiss. Leaving you no air you pounded upon his chest to allow you to breathe and moments later you got your request. Panting for air and saliva connecting your lips, Eren smiled at you and bent down to your ear. Lightly nibbling on it he trailed his bites onto your neck. Only pain was brought upon and your whimpers were hushed. Eren looked into your eyes and repeated.

" Remember I'll do anything for you...in return all I want is your love. After all....you'll soon come to love.

.

.

.

.ThE mOnStEr I'vE bEcOmE..

[taelme]

Enemies-to-lovers!Bang Chan

request: Hey! Can i request and enemies to lovers slow burn with bang chan where they dont like each other but theres undeniable chemistry

genre: enemies-to-lovers!au, workplace/office!au, (fluff, slow burn, lots of denial of feelings lol) 

pairing/s: Chan / Reader (ft Seungmin and some ocs!) 

word count: 21k rip I got pretty carried away 

tw: not any prominent ones that I can think of, kind of hints of the whole misogyny in the workplace kind of thing 

a/n: I got super carried away writing this I hope you guys like it haha im currently working on the other requests so do look forward to those!! ill try to put them out as soon as I can~~ all this staying at home is really giving me time to write... ( I HAD TO use this gif I just HAD TO) but yes this was a little hard to find reasons why y/n wld hate chan bc im for the chan is an angel agenda but I ended up having so much fun ok BYE 

“Hey, you free to get lunch later?” You’d bumped into your friend who worked in the company’s legal department, Seungmin, on a Thursday morning while you were in the pantry preparing coffee and tidbits for your boss. 

You nodded, “uh-huh,” mixing the coffee absently, “what are you doing here?” 

Seungmin shrugged, leaning against the counter as he munched on a cookie, “felt like taking a walk. Things have been pretty busy in the legal department lately.” 

“Why?” 

Seungmin gave you a cheeky smile, shrugging, “can’t say, but you’ll find out soon enough.” 

You rolled your eyes, gritting your teeth with feigned menace towards him (his smile stayed unwavering, even sticking his tongue out at you to mock you).

“Who’s that for?” Seungmin gestured to the coffee mugs on the tray. 

“Mr Bang’s supposed to be meeting his nephew or something, he made it seem really important but all he told me was that it’s for his nephew,” you shrugged, glancing down at your two cups of coffee, realisation hitting you. 

“Shit, that just reminded me. He said his nephew doesn’t drink coffee. Do you want this?” You shot Seungmin a pleading look, holding up your now unneeded cup of coffee. 

Seungmin scoffed, taking the mug from you wordlessly, “how exciting your job is, huh,” he deadpanned, sipping the coffee, “wanna reconsider joining the legal department now?” 

You rolled your eyes. 

“I’m perfectly satisfied with my job now, thank you very much.” 

You’d prepared a pot of tea, careful not to spill the water onto the counter as you did so, transferring the pot onto your tray, “and plus, considering the amount of money I get paid for the amount of work I do, I’m more than happy.” 

Seungmin scoffed, “should’ve known it was because of the money.” 

“Alright, I’ve gotta go, see you later,” you said, picking up your tray as Seungmin waved his hand with cookie crumbs on his fingers, the clicking of your heels growing softer as you walked further away. 

Reaching the door of your boss’ office, you’d been able to faintly make out 2 silhouettes through the window from where you stood, composing yourself to make a good impression as you knocked on the door. Hearing your boss grunt, you’d pushed the door open with your shoulder, your gaze focused on the coffee table as you greeted your boss.

Setting the pot of tea on the table, you’d cast a glance at the recipient, your eyes widening when you’d spotted the boy with dyed hair sitting on the plush leather sofa facing your boss, dressed in a clean white button-down and tie, an equally well-ironed pair of pants, his posture relaxed with his legs spread casually. 

His gaze was on you, as if analysing your movements, making you direct your gaze back to your task at hand, setting the saucer with the cup of coffee onto the coffee table, placing the small biscuits your boss liked in the middle of the two. 

Holding the tray close to your chest, you cast a glance at your boss, about to bow in greeting and head back out when his voice had stopped you. 

“Y/N, please, stay here. I’d like to discuss something with you and my nephew.” 

Your eyebrows raised, lips pressed tightly together as you nodded, “oh…cool, alright.” 

“Please, take a seat,” Mr Bang gestured to the space on the sofa next to his nephew, making you seat yourself awkwardly on the other side of the sofa, your body pressing against the armrest as if trying to create as much distance as you could between him and you. 

“So, Chan, this is my secretary, Y/N,” Mr Bang gestured to you, “Y/N, this is my nephew, uh… Chris,” he spoke, the name sounding fairly familiar to you. Chris Bang? You sounded the name over in your head, not being able to connect the dots as to why it was so familiar at this point of time. 

“So, sweetheart, because I’ve been planning on resigning for a while now, I thought I should let you know that I’m planning on handing my position over to Chris.” 

Maybe this was what Seungmin was so busy with. 

You nodded slowly, trying to understand the implications this decision meant for you, “will my contract be terminated, then?” 

Chris glanced at you, as if searching your expression. He found you fairly younger than he’d expected, since his uncle had mentioned earlier that you’d already been working for him for quite some time, going onto 2 years already.

Of course, he didn’t want to underestimate you, but knowing the directors’ reputations regarding secretaries, he wasn’t sure if he could put a label on your abilities without seeing them for himself, first. And to him, he wasn’t quite understanding of why his uncle was so insistent that he needed a secretary, his past experiences with secretaries all being quite unimpressive. 

“That… is unfortunately up to Chris, but ideally your contract will resume as per normal.” 

You glanced back at the boy, who looked at you with an unreadable expression, something about his stare successfully unnerving you, the way he looked at you almost with a certain level of contempt. 

“We’ll be having a company dinner tonight to welcome Chris to the team, it would do the both of you well to get acquainted with each other before the board meeting for ceo elections.” 

You nodded slowly, still clutching the tray close to your chest as you wondered how old he was, the whole ordeal seeming as though it were something out of a movie: a young apathetic heir getting authority over a large corporation at such a young age. Was he even qualified for this position? The rest of the directors were nowhere near his age, well, appearance wise. 

As if having read your mind, your boss spoke, “I’m sure you two will get along just fine, considering you two are so close in age.” 

Your eyes narrowed, something in you not feeling comfortable with this arrangement. Dismissing the thought quickly, you shrugged, figuring it would be a change of scenery from being around the old directors all the time. 

You watched as Chris shrugged.

“We’ll see.” 

=== 

“Who?” Seungmin dabbed at his lips with his towel, picking up his glass of water to take a sip, making you frown, still trying to do your research on Chris Bang as far as your browser app would take you. 

“Chris Bang. He’s gonna take over the company from President Bang.” 

Your words seemed to have elicited a giggle from Seungmin, “doesn’t that make them both ‘President Bang’?”

Seungmin ignored your eye roll, continuing, “this was what I was referring to just now, you know. I thought you would’ve known who he was by now,” he told you, making you set your phone down on the table, open on his LinkedIn page that frankly wasn’t giving you much other than stating how very qualified he was for the job. 

“You know, Bang Chan? Ring a bell? That guy that’s been switching departments for God-knows-how-long since last year. The one that got all of us donuts one time,” Seungmin gave you a ‘duh’ look, considerably unamused. 

“Oh,” only then were you realising just who that was. You knew exactly who he was. You’d heard many rumours from the other secretaries on how he was impossibly good at anything he’d set his mind to, his work ethic and standard incomparable to anyone else in the company they’d ever seen. 

Which was why all that switching departments start to make sense to you, since it could’ve been his way of making sure he learnt the ins-and-outs of every department by the time he took over. If that wasn’t just more evidence that he was definitely a crazy workaholic.

At the time, you’d made a passing comment on how you hoped you would never have to be his subordinate, after having heard stories on how intimidating he was whenever it came to work (especially work that was improperly done). Little did you know that your comment would come back to bite you in the ass so soon. 

“Yeah, ‘oh,” Seungmin mimicked you, taking another bite out of his burger, “why d’you seem so…,” Seungmin made a pained groaning sound as he gestured to you for lack of a better word, “about it, anyway? Shouldn’t you be happy? He’s super nice!” 

You scrunched your nose up, locking your phone in your dismay, not wanting to see his face on his stupid profile mocking you with all his stupid qualifications anyway.

“I don’t know, just kind of feels a little sudden. And I hate the feeling of not knowing if I’m gonna be fired since it’s not up to Mr Bang anymore.” 

“Which one?” Seungmin joked, making you scoff, finding it just a little funny. Only a little. 

Seungmin continued, “you’re just mad because him taking over means you actually have to do work.” 

You shot him a glare, your silence being an acknowledgement that he wasn’t entirely wrong. 

“And because I love Mr Bang! He was such a nice old man that checked in on me and gave me life advice. I’m not gonna get any life advice from someone that’s basically my age.” 

Seungmin huffed in amusement, bringing his hand up to cup his mouth as if to divulge a secret, dropping his voice to a strained whisper, “transfer to the legal department.” 

You sighed, “no, I still love my pay.” 

“Then stop sulking! Chris is the nicest guy I’ve met, you’ll be fine. Just show up to the company dinner tonight and fluff him up a bit,” Seungmin shrugged, “it’ll be smooth sailing from then on.” 

=== 

You figured you should’ve tried to do a lot better to fluff Chris up during the company dinner, instead of just going over to grill the meat for the directors, under the instruction of President Bang. 

The action itself didn’t sit right with Chris, who didn’t understand why it was so imperative to the directors that you be the one to grill the meat until he realised just why they were keeping you there. 

His own uncle was oblivious of course, simply obliging at any chance he got to show off how capable you were (even if it was just grilling meat), however Chris was quick to notice the way they stared at you as you reached between them to grill the meat, your face feeling hot with the steam from the grill. 

“Y/N is very hardworking, graduated at the top of her class in college,” Mr Bang mentioned pointedly, making Chris’ eyebrows raise in surprise. 

“Really? What did you study?” He spoke, knowing very well you were listening, the other directors not paying any attention to learning your background as they prompted you to pour them a drink. You didn’t miss the way his words were accented, remembering hearing from Seungmin that he’d spent a large chunk of his life in Australia. 

Tipping the bottle, you’d answered (albeit a little preoccupied). 

“Law,” you sat back on your heels, “minored in journalism.” 

Chris frowned, not being able to understand why you would’ve chosen to work here as his uncle’s secretary of all things if you had pretty good prospects on your own. 

“How’d you end up working for my uncle, then?” He voiced, your attention diverted when you’d been prompted by a director to take a shot of your own, clinking your glass obnoxiously and leaving you with no choice, an embarrassed flush on your face. 

Taking the shot, you winced at the burn of the drink, glancing back at Chris, who was still looking at you curiously, wondering how you’d felt under the attention of the directors.  

“Did it as a temp job at first,” you told him, “but I guess I realised halfway that I don’t mind it so much, and it paid me pretty well.” 

Chris hummed, you ‘don’t mind’ this? 

One of the directors let out a grunt of distaste, “you shouldn’t worry about that, doll. The job of a secretary is to look pretty, the pride of the company is in its secretaries,” he said, clearly having already had one-too-many drinks, his words leaving an awful aftertaste on your tongue, his hand going over to grasp your shoulder, his hand going down to your arm and squeezing. 

“I always told her she’d do well as a housewife. That way she wouldn’t have to work and just mooch off her husband.” 

You mustered a smile, setting the bottle of drink down and bowing to them, Chris having lost his appetite at the way you’d just let their comments slide. 

“Maybe she prefers mooching off of the directors, instead,” Chris murmured, his sharp tongue getting the better of him, catching your attention as you were walking past him, making you stop in your tracks.  

Chris’ uncle tut his tongue, nudging the boy harshly, making him raise his hands in surrender. 

“What? Just speaking off of observation.” 

You turned around, a surge of confidence arising in you (from where? You weren’t sure, maybe it was the fact that in your eyes he was still what was standing in between you and your possible severance pay), “excuse me?” 

“I’m sorry, was there any untruth in what I said?” Chris turned, his gaze almost challenging you to speak out against the directors, not knowing that it was only serving to spur you on to speak out against him instead. 

 You scoffed, Chris standing up and awaiting your answer, a voice in you screaming at you not to be intimidated by him, especially with the way his head tilted down ever so slightly, his eyebrows raising expectantly. 

“Didn’t know they would just let any rude petty kid run any company these days,” you narrowed your eyes at him, folding your arms and straightening your posture. 

Seungmin, who was watching from his table with the legal team, grimaced, deeming Chris’ expression to be anything but friendly at the moment. 

“I don’t know, maybe it’s just a little unbelievable to me that I’m supposed to be answering to someone who just got the company handed to him,” your words were coming out faster than you could help it. I mean, you were probably going to get fired anyway, right? Might as well go down with a fight. 

“You don’t know anything about me,” Chris muttered, his voice firm, annoyance laced in his tone. Your words seemed to have triggered a spark in him, annoyed that you were doubting his abilities, blatantly disrespecting him even after knowing he could be your superior. 

Mr Bang had tapped Chris’ calf harshly, “enough, don’t keep y/n from eating.” 

Ignoring his words, Chris had stepped forward, staring you down as the tension had only thickened between the both of you. 

“But then, what would you know, right? What was that again? Right. What are you here for other than to look pretty, hmm?” He tilted his head at you, flashing you a smile that was practically dripping with sarcasm. 

You practically seethed with anger, your fists clenching as you unfolded your arms, your finger coming up to point at him, “you know what? I’d rather eat beansprouts for the rest of my life than work for you.” You scoffed. 

Chris' amused lilt to his smile was only serving to annoy you even more, making you storm over to your table with the other secretaries, all of them casting you looks of concern or shock that you would have confronted him like that. Picking up your jacket, you’d scoffed, casting him one last look before you left, not expecting to see him again afterwards. 

Well, that was the part you were very very wrong about. 

That night, you’d called your boyfriend over to submit him to a seemingly never-ending rant about Chris, getting a text from Seungmin halfway. 

“I mean, isn’t it good, then? That you can find another job?” Your boyfriend tried to reason, pressing a kiss to your neck as you straddled him where he was sitting leaning against your headboard. 

“That’s not the point,” you insisted, pausing to read the text that Seungmin had sent, oblivious to his urgent kisses trailing up to your jaw. 

seungmin (personal)  2:12am -consider yourself lucky. Spoke to Chan just now, make sure you show up to work tomorrow.- 

“The point is that, he’s arrogant. What? Telling me that I’m only here to look pretty?—“ 

“In his defence, you insulted him first.” 

You glared at your boyfriend, “Yeah, fine. But he provoked me first. And I don’t know, something about him just pisses me off,” you tried to reason, your boyfriend’s kisses beginning to distract you from your anger. 

“You know what, maybe you should just give him a shot. Maybe he’s not as bad as he seems?” 

And so you did as Seungmin had instructed, doing what you would’ve always done, grabbing your boss’ morning coffee before going to the office, ‘leisurely’ making your way upstairs as you tried to avoid any possible suit-clad blond-haired man. 

Upon reaching your desk, you’d set your things under your desk, opening your scheduler and doing a quick run through of Mr Bang’s schedule for the day, grabbing the coffee and knocking on the glass doors before entering. 

“Y/N! Just the person I wanted to see.” You nodded, walking over to place his coffee onto his table.

“You have the board meeting in half an hour, sir,” you informed him.  

“Right, thank you. Would you be a dear and be there to serve the refreshments?” 

You nodded, “yeah, sure.” 

“If all goes as planned, Chan- I mean, Chris, will be taking over from next week onwards. So this week will be the last week i’m here.” 

You frowned, “it’s a shame you’re retiring, you know,” your disappointment was evident in your tone.  

Mr Bang simply waved you off, “it’s about time, I’m sure little Chris will do a good job.” 

You’d kept your mouth shut, nodding as he stood up with his coffee cup in hand, looking at you with a smile, “shall we head down a little earlier, then?” 

You nodded, opening the door for him to exit and following him silently to the venue of the board meeting. You were surprised, to say the least, when you’d reached only to find Chris there already, currently in an animated conversation with one of the directors, smiling like you’d never seen before, dimples showing on his cheeks. 

Excusing yourself quickly, you’d gone to the pantry to prepare the drinks, your time here having made you familiar with the respective directors drink preferences. Carrying your tray carefully, you’d pushed the door open with your hip, seeing all the directors seated already, all seeming fairly comfortable around Chris, only serving to make the feeling of dread build in the pit of your stomach. 

Making your way around the table, you’d distributed the drinks to the directors personally, refusing to make eye contact with Chris as you gave him his stupid cup of tea. 

Once the meeting had started, you’d dismissed yourself outside the room, a part of you trying to listen in on the board meeting but not being able to hear much through the thick panelled glass. You were surprised when barely half an hour had passed and you’d heard applause in the room, peeping through the window to see Mr Bang give you a signal that you could come in. 

Pushing the door open carefully, you saw the directors practically lining up to congratulate Chris, leaving promptly after looking all-too satisfied with the outcome of the meeting. 

Mr Bang was speaking to Chris as the rest of the directors were leaving, “well, I guess this means my work here is as good as done. I’m sure your parents will be thrilled to hear the news,” he pat Chris on the back. 

You were about to head out with Mr Bang, eager to avoid Chris when you’d heard him speak, “Y/N, I’d like to speak with you for a moment. Is that alright?” He cast a look at his uncle, who waved him off. 

“Of course, she’s not my secretary anymore, remember?” You cast Mr Bang a look of distress, seeing him chuckle before giving you a thumbs up, exiting the room happily.  

You winced, turning around so you were facing Chris, seeing him walk over to where you were, holding out a thick bound stack of papers for you to take. 

“What’s this?” 

"A contract. You can pass it to me by the end of the day once you've made your decision. I trust that you're familiar with reading contracts?" he asked as you stared at the papers, flipping and scanning through the print, realising that his terms were considerably more demanding than his uncle. 

"You'll be able to find an additional attachment where I list what I would expect in a secretary. Feel free to consult me if you're unclear about any of them, though I don't think you would need to." 

Your eyes lingered on the section of the contract, stating that you would be on a year of probation, but that the contract could be terminated whenever he felt appropriate. 

"Whenever you deem appropriate?" you scoffed, looking up at him in disbelief. 

He smiled, "very pretty wording, don't you think?" 

"That's all I wanted to say. Remember, I'll expect your response by the end of the day." 

You stared blankly as he shrugged his jacket off, draping it on one arm. 

"Go ahead, what are you waiting for? You can go for your lunch break now," he urged, before his features pulled into a look of realisation, "oh, forgot. That is, unless you would rather eat...what was that again? Beansprouts?" 

Your mouth opened, making as if to retort before you shut your mouth quickly, your eyes widening as he walked over to you, his gaze intense and serious, a contrast to the demeanour he wore while chatting up the director previously. 

"I can handle myself, you know," you attempted to defend yourself, watching as Chris had shrugged. 

"You have one whole year to prove that to me." 

In that one year of working for Chris, you'd learnt a lot of things. Not only about your position as a secretary, but about Chris, ( not to mention, just exactly how spiteful he could be ).  

1. Sleep was a luxury. 

In your first week as his secretary, Chris had surprised you with the sheer rate of progress he was aiming, and moving at. It was as if all the rumours you'd heard before about his work ethic were a gross understatement of his tenacity. 

You'd been having trouble adjusting to his deadlines, especially since he had entrusted more tasks to you. From surprise presentations, to drafting up proposals and reports, not to mention submitting research to him. To you, it felt as if you were doing half the job for him. 

In short, you had never missed Mr Bang more than you did then. 

Of course, Seungmin being your voice of reason, would shut your rants down, claiming it was ‘about time you do your job’, but of course, you loved to complain. Especially since it was someone you didn't have very fond feelings for that was assigning you the work. You grew increasingly irritated in the time you were adjusting to your sleep schedule, which Chris, and your boyfriend had definitely noticed. 

Because of your changes in brain activity levels, you assumed (google could only diagnose so much), whenever sleep came to you, you welcomed it with open arms.  Since waking up had become even more of a chore to run over to the coffee shop and squeeze yourself between the crowd of working adults and panda-eyed college students to get his very specific breakfast order. 

You'd gone home from a birthday party of your boyfriend and your mutual friend, things having gotten a little...out of hand at your boyfriend's apartment since it'd been so long since you'd been able to spend time together, not with you always falling asleep during video calls or refusing them altogether for the sake of getting your work done. You'd missed him, and something about being apart made you miss his touch. 

Jolting awake, (as if your body had been able to tell that your sleep was too smooth), you'd instantly sensed that something was wrong when you saw the light streaming in from behind the curtains, knowing for a fact that you usually woke up when it was still a little dark out. 

Turning around, you'd fumbled for your phone on the bedside table, letting out a loud gasp when you saw the time. You were already a whole half-hour late. 

"Shit!" 

Your boyfriend startled, letting out a groan, his arm still lazily draped over your stomach. 

"Did my alarm ring?" you asked, shoving his hand off of you and groaning, slipping out of bed quickly as you put on your clothes from the day before, not having any more time to go back to your apartment and get a fresh change of clothes. 

"I don't know, I didn't hear anything," you heard your boyfriend mumble from where he lay. 

Cursing, you'd ran over to his bathroom, washing your face quickly, a gasp leaving your mouth as you inspected the angry marks on your neck through the mirror. 

"I hate you so much," you tugged up the collar of your turtleneck, successfully hiding the marks when you’d let your hair down. 

Grabbing your things, you'd sprinted downstairs, hailing the first cab you could see and heading to your office. 

Was he going to fire me? You were still on probation, so there was no reason he couldn't, right? 

You'd fixed your hair anxiously as you jogged into the lobby, your shoes clacking noisily against the floor as you ran into the lift, even debating on whether taking the stairs would have been a better idea as the lift went up at an achingly slow pace. 

Finally reaching your floor, you’d made your way to the meeting room, tossing your bags outside the door and entering with your laptop, notebook and pen, keeping your head down and avoiding Chris’ gaze as he was presenting to the room. 

Taking your seat at the only empty seat left, (unfortunately, closer to the front of the room), you’d let out a small sigh. Expecting to hear Chris comment on your tardiness or whatnot, you opened your laptop, picking up on the minutes where you could. 

Keeping your head down, you’d felt your colleague from the marketing team lean over to you as Chris had given everyone some time to analyse what he was showing on the screen, his lack of a comment making you even more anxious. 

“Your hair’s a mess,” she whispered, making you wince, your hand going up to comb your hair into a ponytail in your attempt to look neater, hearing your colleague gasp. 

“Dude! Put your hair back down, your neck,” she whispered, your eyes immediately darting to Chris’ direction, seeing that he was in fact staring at your jaw and neck as well, turning away quickly, the reddening of his ears giving him away.

Your hands let go of your hair as though you were burned, hearing your colleague snicker beside you, “I see someone had fun last night. Was that why you were late, too?” 

You shushed her as Chris cleared his throat, embarrassment flooding your senses as you continued to take minutes, hoping that he wouldn’t be as mad at you if you showed that you were trying your best. Fat chance, but hey, you could dream. 

Chris had started to assign things that he’d wanted the different departments to focus on for the project at hand, flashing a slide of deadlines that you watched people scramble to confirm with their existing information. You were secretly hoping someone would hold him back with a question so that he was too busy to confront you. 

Unfortunately for you, that wasn’t the case today. The meeting ended promptly, Chris leaving you in relative silence as you packed up your things, your colleagues giving you a look of sympathy as you followed him silently out of the room back to your desk. 

“In my office, please,” he murmured. 

You fiddled with your fingers, already anticipating for him to fire you. 

“Can you explain to me what happened this morning?” 

Your eyes widened, not daring to meet his gaze as it flickered between anything in the room other than him, “I uh..I didn’t um…I didn’t hear my alarm ring and nobody woke me up so I overslept.” 

Chris’ stare was unwavering, leaning against his desk and folding his arms, “so is it not your responsibility to make sure you show up to work on time?” 

“No, yeah of course it is—“ 

“Then I would like to see you be accountable for your mistakes,” he continued, “I’m not saying you can’t make mistakes, everybody makes mistakes. But if your mistake is what puts an entire room of people at an inconvenience, I would prefer if you were a little more apologetic about it.” 

You’d let a short period of silence fall between the both of you, “I’m sorry,” you mumbled, your gaze fixed firmly on his shoelace, “am I fired?” 

Chris let out a small sigh, shaking his head. “No, but, you know, if you ever let anything like this happen again, I won’t hesitate to fire you,” his voice was stern, annoyed almost. 

“And Y/N, if this,” you looked up at him watching him gesture to his neck with his hand before gesturing back to you, making you cower, tugging your collar further up your neck, “is what’s the issue here. I’d suggest you start prioritising.” 

“Sorry. It won’t happen again, I swear,” you rushed to speak, bowing quickly before exiting the room as fast as you could, wanting to tear your hair out in both annoyance and embarrassment. 

You’d jumped when you heard the sound of your desk speaker, Chris’ voice sounding through the phone, “Is there a problem, Y/N?” 

Your eyes widened, rushing over to your desk phone, shaking your head as you pressed the button to reply, “no, no! Not at all. There was just a… a bug here.” 

Chris huffed, bringing his hand up to hide his amusement, watching you scramble to regain your composure. 

2. Chris was a workaholic 

It was seeing (and experiencing) all the late nights in the office and the erratic pattern of his emails on weekends that drew you to this conclusion. His routine of sleeping late and then proceeding to get up at ungodly hours to either get work done or give up on the idea of a smooth sleep, since you were aware that he tended to have trouble sleeping. Not to mention the way it seemed to you as if the top priority in his life was his work, wanting to do his best to get the company to where he wanted it to be. 

After a few months of working for him, it was very clear to you that your job entailed not only taking care of his work, but taking care of him. 

You were going over to the legal team's office to collect the binders Chan had left to them, seemingly needing one of them now, thankful to have spotted Seungmin along the way as he was leaving his desk. 

Shooting you a look of sympathy, he'd peeked his head out to glance at your area, noticing everyone else in your team had gone home already. 

"Working late again?" 

You were sure you looked horrible, with bags under your eyes and your complexion looking dull from lack of sleep, but well, you had to earn a living, right? 

You shot him a pointed look, "you know the rules, can't go home until the boss goes home," you heaved a pained sigh. 

"You know, I'm starting to wonder if he even has a social life," you thought out loud, earning an amused grunt from Seungmin. 

"I could say the same about you." You ignored his comment. 

"What d'you need?" he asked, though you were already making your way to his superior's desk, grabbing the file and leaving a post-it to say it was with Chris. 

"Nothing, just this." You let out a small grunt at the weight of the binder, your wrists aching from all the filing you'd done that morning and afternoon (you never did notice until now how inefficient Chris' uncle's document organization system was). 

"All the best," he gave you a thumbs up, earning a pitiful pout from you before you'd headed back to Chris' office. 

Knocking on his door, you'd heard him murmur for you to come in, pushing the heavy doors open with your shoulder as you shoved your way through the doors,  placing the binder onto the coffee table where he'd had his documents and laptop laid out haphazardly. 

Chan's hair was a mess, likely from running his hands through it as he worked, his tie discarded and the top few buttons of his shirt undone, looking at you with tired eyes. 

He was about to ask you for some water, but you'd seemed to have read his mind, walking over to the table near his desk and pouring him a glass of warm water from the flask. 

"I'm almost done with the filing, but I'll be outside so you can let me know if you need anything." 

You'd felt your pocket buzz with a notification, momentarily taking your attention away from Chris. 

Chris glanced at the files before looking back at you in thought, stopping you before you could exit the room, "actually, can you help me to write a report on this, I'll need this by tomorrow afternoon." 

Knowing Chris' deadlines, that meant he would've needed it by tomorrow morning, which left you no choice other than to start working on it now. 

Chris picked up a small file with a post-it note stuck onto the file, handing it to you. 

"The points are all there. I would've done it myself but by the looks of it this is gonna take a while more than I expected," he sighed, his hands on his hips as he stared at the pile of papers in front of him in disdain. 

Chris never would've admitted that he'd started preparing the post-it notes for you in case he wasn't able to complete his work in time, since he usually opted to write from his head, but he knew you worked better with structure. He'd only realised after starting to do it that it helped him draft the write-ups more concisely, so of course, the reason was always 'for his own convenience', never creating opportunities for you to think he actually tried accommodating to you. 

"This current arrangement is very un-environmentally friendly," you mumbled, staring at the papers as well. 

"I'll go get this done now," you gave him a nod, exiting his office as you pulled your phone from your pocket, the text from your boyfriend practically glaring at you, asking if you were able to meet that night. 

10:47pm - sorry, working late :( gotta work on a report due tomorrow morning - 

Biting back your disappointment at having to bail on your boyfriend again, you'd nodded resolutely, pulling up your delivery app to order food for Chris before you started on the report lest he start to get irritable because he was hungry. 

And lastly, the point you couldn't quite seem to wrap your head around, was that 

3. He was very nice, just...not so much to you. 

After the oversleeping incident from before, it was safe to say you'd never let a similar mistake repeat itself. You were constantly making sure you were alert and responsive to anything Chris could possibly throw to you (and he knew this too). 

The only downside Chris saw to this, was that it seemed as though your attitude towards the directors hadn't changed. Still swallowing their disgusting comments and serving them with a smile, even if they were looking everywhere but your face. It irked Chris. And it irked him even more that the only one you seemed to serve without a smile, was him. 

Unbeknownst to him, you'd shared the same sentiments. 

"Do you ever look at someone and wonder what is going on in their head?" you spoke. 

Seungmin snorted, "wait, are you talking about the meme or..." your lack of a response made Seungmin follow your gaze (or glare) to where Chris was seated at the other end of the table, giggling and smiling as he spoke with the other secretaries. 

"Ah," Seungmin nodded, understanding now why your spoon hadn't moved an inch from your bowl, your grip around it almost death-like. 

"What are you so mad about? He's not doing anything?" 

You shot Seungmin a pointed look, your voice lowering to a murmur, "can't you see it? With them he's all rainbows and unicorn shit but with me it's like just smiling would kill him." 

You heard the secretaries letting out giggles and impressed sounds at something Chris had just said, the sound itself enough to make you annoyed. 

Seungmin's eyebrows furrowed, looking at you in scepticism, "you know the secretaries are only being nice because they're interns, right? I heard from one of them that they're actually really scared of him." 

Seungmin brought his chopsticks to his mouth, taking a piece of food from your bowl that he knew you weren't going to eat anyway, "especially after they saw how he spoke to you during the meeting the other day,"

You scoffed, "good to know that I was the warning." 

Your phone buzzed, signalling a text from your boyfriend. Strangely enough, it'd been a while since you'd texted him, since you were busy with work and he was busy with school. 

Ignoring it initially, too distracted by Chris, it wasn't long before you saw his caller ID show up on the screen, getting Seungmin's attention. 

"I think you should answer that," he gestured, making you glance around the table in your hesitance, not knowing if it would be rude to just exit halfway. 

Picking up the phone-call, you'd turned your head, lowering your volume to a murmur, "hello?" 

"Hey, can we talk? I really need to tell you something." 

You winced, "is it urgent? I'm at a team dinner right now." 

Your boyfriend sighed, scoffing, "it really is always work with you, huh." 

"What's that supposed to mean?" 

You glanced at the table, standing up to excuse yourself. Chris's expression read confusion, eavesdropping on a secretary asking what happened, Seungmin replying that it was your boyfriend calling. 

You'd made your way outside the restaurant, Chris glancing in your direction and spotting you walk past the restaurant's windows, a part of him shaking off whatever curiosity that lingered in him as he focused on his conversation. After all, you did tell him you could handle yourself, right? 

Where you were, you'd moved to a quieter spot outside the restaurant, "okay, I can talk now. What's up?" 

You kicked at the ground absently as you awaited his reply. 

"Look, are you free to meet tonight? There's something I need to tell you." 

"Uh..." you glanced into the restaurant, making eye contact with Chris before looking away, "I've got to work later, though. I need to get some research done for this review that i'm behind on, I don't wanna meet you if i'm just gonna end up on my computer while you're there, you know?" 

Your boyfriend nodded, "you know, that's kind of what i wanted to talk to you about." 

"Oh," a feeling of dread was building in your stomach, recognising your boyfriend's tone to be the one he used whenever he was talking about something serious. 

The first time you heard it was when you witnessed him on a work phone-call, the second being how he spoke to your parents the first time they'd met, but this time, you had a feeling you knew what was coming. 

"Let's break up." 

You fell silent, not knowing how to respond to his words. 

"Is it, um.... is it because of my work?" You asked, a part of you not being able to come to terms with the fact that it could have been your fault, "because you know I can't do anything about that." 

Your boyfriend sighed, "I know. I'm just talking about how you've been so emotionally invested in your work you don't even have the energy to maintain this relationship." 

You frowned, "what, what do you want me to do, quit my job? Will that be better for you?" 

"Look, i've been seeing someone," he began. Your heart sank. 

"And i'd be lying if I said that wasn't part of the reason. But... it was only when I started seeing her that I realised... things between us just weren't the same as before." 

Your heart felt heavy, a part of you knowing that he was making it a lot easier to be mad at him by confessing what he did, but another part of you couldn't help but prompt him further. 

"When did it start?" 

"That doesn't matter-" 

You sighed, taking your lower lip between your teeth, "it's fine, I just wanna know." 

"Fine, it was about a month in from you working for your new boss." 

You nodded slowly, still trying to process his words. You weren't quite sure what came over you when you saw Chris exiting the restaurant, turning to face your direction and spotting you in the alley. But it was as if you were so mad at yourself, mad at him, mad at your boyfriend (or ex-boyfriend now), that you'd ended the call, shoving your phone into the pocket of your blazer before heading over to where Chris was. 

"You guys aren't going home?" you heard one of the secretaries ask as you and Chris had approached his car, his driver already sitting in the car and waiting. 

Chris shook his head with a smile, "nope, we're heading back to the office." 

You mustered a smile as you bid them goodbye, you guessed this was probably the best time to bury yourself in your work as a poor coping mechanism after a breakup, as far as movie breakups went.  

The car-ride was silent, despite the pinging of your phone, making you switch it to silent mode halfway, earning a curious look from Chris, though he didn't make to ask you about it. 

Upon reaching the office, the both of you had gone back into your clockwork routine, as you sat in his office working on your computer and scribbling down on your notebook the important details you wanted him to check. Chris found that your background in law and journalism made it a lot easier whenever it came to reading and condensing information, which had only allowed him to trust you more when it came to getting tasks like that done, saving him precious time he could spend working on other things. 

The buzzing of your phone was growing more frequent, though it was as if you were oblivious to it now as you typed away at your computer. 

"Right, can you help to postpone tomorrow afternoon's meeting, and help me to make a reservation at the steak place, 2 people." 

You hadn't made to move, pulling your phone out but having gotten distracted at the multitude of missed calls and texts just because your boyfriend wanted to 'make sure you were okay'. Please. 

"Hello? Can you hear me?" you heard Chris call, snapping you out of your daze as his gaze searched your expression, trying to read your emotions. 

"Sorry, can you repeat that? I didn't hear you." 

Chris sighed, his annoyance at your phone that had lit up with a call again getting the better of him, "you know I don't ask you to stay later just for you to waste my time, you know." 

Your gaze hardened. There it was, the side of Chris that you had the 'privilege' of being at the brunt of, nowhere near the smiley giggly Chris you witnessed at the restaurant just now. 

"I said I was sorry. What do you want me to do?" 

Chris huffed, his gaze darting to your phone as he spoke, "reservation for 2 people tomorrow afternoon, the steak place my mom likes. Postpone tomorrow afternoon's appointment with Director Lee." He told you slowly, his tone as if speaking to a young child, which only served to piss you off even more. 

"Who's calling you?" he asked. 

You shook your head in dismissal, "my...uh..." you weren't sure how to respond, watching dumbly as he made his way to where you were, lifting your phone to read the contact before letting out a huff. 

"Okay, well you can tell your boyfriend that if you're gonna be this distracted at work, you can kiss your night goodbye." 

You inhaled deeply, absolutely upset but knowing there wasn't much you could do about it. You loved your job, even though you hated to admit it. Ever since Chris came in, you were getting a lot more work experience and exposure, especially with how he would make it mandatory for you to attend certain language courses that would help him whenever you accompanied him on networking events or business galas. 

And in that moment, you couldn't help but think back to what he'd said the first time he'd scolded you when he'd told you to figure out your priorities. Maybe your boyfriend called you at the right time, maybe you just weren't ready to focus on things other than your career at this point of time. 

Turning your phone off, you'd made sure Chris saw that it was off, raising your hands up in surrender, "done. I'll book your stupid reservation now." You stalked out before Chris could chime in with a 'watch your tone'. 

=== 

You'd been working for Chris for what was coming to 2 years now. The company had been reaping the results of their hard work for a while now, and you were thankful that even though you weren't as busy as before, you still managed to keep your job. Other than the fact that Chris’ hair was now back to dark brown, not much else had changed. 

Although, one tiny change you were starting to wish for was that Chris would at least try to make things a little more bearable for you. 

You were currently at a meeting with the directors where Chris was presenting the overview of the company's performance in the past month. You would have to say you were pretty satisfied with the work you'd both done on that, working a lot more efficiently now compared to when you'd first started out. 

Your silent admiration of the presentation was interrupted when one of the directors summoned you over to ask for a cup of coffee.

Doing as you were told ( much to Chris' dismay ), you'd gone and come back in record time with his hot cup of coffee, bending down and making your way to where the director sat, not wanting to prevent any of them from seeing what Chris was presenting. 

While he was presenting, it didn't take Chris very long to realise why the director had kept asking you for things, your position from where you were squatting next to him making it all-too-easy for him to ogle at you without you noticing. 

For some reason, this seemed to have gotten on Chris' nerves, especially because that director's secretary was simply minding her own business at the back of the room. 

Did Chris think what you were wearing that day was nice? He'd say he didn't but of course he did. But unlike the director, he preferred not to be so blatant about it, especially because you were always so rude towards him. 

You'd tensed momentarily when the director had grabbed your arm, about to get up when you heard Chris' voice get louder. 

"Y/N, I'd appreciate if you would stop distracting the directors and go back to your seat." 

(Later on, Seungmin would be struggling to hold back his laughter in the printing room when Chan told him to tell you to button up your blouse a little more. 

“Why can’t you just tell her yourself?” 

Chan scoffed, “knowing her, she’s just gonna think I was looking at her… chest or something.” 

Seungmin narrowed his eyes at Chan teasingly, “well, were you?” 

Chan waved him off with a groan, “just tell her, okay? The directors are having a field day with her looking like that.”)

You'd almost scoffed at the way the director had immediately let go of you, and you straightened up quickly, heading back to sit with the other secretaries. 

"That was harsh," you heard one of the secretaries murmur to you, making you shrug. 

"Whatever, not like I expected more from him anyway." 

(You did, you totally did. You'd kill for him to be less grating with his words). 

After the meeting, you'd felt a phone ring in your bag, pulling it out to see that Chris' mom was calling, obviously not having been able to reach him. Making your way to where he was, you'd interrupted his packing of his things. 

"Your mom is calling you," you'd told him out of habit, holding his phone out for him to take, jumping slightly when you'd heard one of the directors let out a dismayed grunt. 

"Is that any way to talk to your boss?" 

Your eyes widened, Chris seeming to be enjoying the situation play out before him as you regained your composure, looking back at Chris with a sickly sweet smile on your face. In front of the directors, you couldn't act up like how you usually did when it was just the both of you, so you had no choice but to be all smiles

"President Bang, your mother is calling you," you told him, and if you were annoyed, you didn't show it, having years of practice from dealing with the directors. 

"uh-huh," Chris smirked, taking the phone from your hands and answering it as he gestured for you to help him gather his papers. 

"No, mom. I’ve told you already, i’m really fine with how things are now. I'm not going on another one." 

Not that you cared, but you had to admit you were kind of curious as to what he was so insistently refusing.

"Yes, okay, bye," he hung up, handing the phone back to you. 

You'd tried your best to suppress your curiosity, seeing as he was about to be late for his next meeting with one of his friends if he hadn't hurried. 

Fixing your blouse, you'd carried your laptop in your arm as you walked with him back to his office, with you going into the lift first, Chris having chosen the wrong time to step in as a girl you recognised as one of the interns had done so too, the number of people squeezing into the lift causing her to jerk her arm, her coffee landing unceremoniously on Chris’ tie and shirt. 

Chris let out a hiss at the temperature of the liquid, eliciting a long string of apologies from the girl. You knew that if it was you that had spilled the coffee, he would be going on and on about carelessness now, but the intern obviously wasn’t you, and so you watched in envy as Chris had given her a smile, dismissing her apologies quickly. 

“It’s fine, really. I just hope you still have some coffee left to drink,” he laughed. 

Not only was he not upset, but he was joking with her too? 

You scoffed, rolling your shoulders back as you’d watched the numbers on the elevator rise till it reached your floor, the girl looking scared for her life when you’d cast her a look, bowing to you apologetically. 

“Where did you keep the spare change of clothes?” Chris asked as he’d begun loosening his tie. 

You hadn’t responded as he let you walk before him into his office, making your way over to one of the cupboards at the side of the room and opening it, pulling out a hanger with a nicely ironed set of work clothes. 

“You can go and get changed, I’ll wait here,” you murmured, Chris walking over to where you were and giving you his stained tie. 

God, you hoped his dry-cleaning run wouldn’t make you late for your lunch appointment. 

Looking at his tie, you brought it up closer to your face to inspect the material, it was a well-made tie, you had to say. Not too skinny, the material feeling almost luxurious in your hold, tempting you to put it on in your boredom. 

Hanging it round your neck, you mustered your best ‘Chris accent’.

“You should be accountable for your mistakes! Don’t you know how many people you’re inconveniencing? Now I have a tie that reeks of coffee, look,” you held up the tie with a gasp, “and my secretary’s gonna be late for her lunch meeting!” You pointed accusatorially at the small black penholder that sat on his desk. 

“Yeah! Do you know how much you’re inconveniencing me? I don’t ask you to show up to work to waste my time—“ 

You’d stopped in your tracks when you heard Chris clearing his throat, grimacing as you tried to regain your composure, taking off the tie as quickly as you could, holding it tightly in your palm as you turned to face him. 

“Having fun?” 

“No,” you shot back quickly, not even wanting to ask how long he’d been standing there. 

Walking over to you, he’d handed you his stained shirt, his expression like that of a parent that had caught their kid doing something they weren’t supposed to be doing. 

“You know, sometimes I wish you’d talk back to the directors like how you talk back to me.” 

Your eyes widened, confused at his sudden comment, but not having the time to respond as Chris continued. 

“Get these dry-cleaned over lunch. The stain’ll be harder to get out the longer you wait.” 

You huffed, already walking away from him, “well, when you say it like that I’d might as well go do it now.” 

You'd been keeping yourself busy with replying emails when you heard the elevator ding, the sound of footsteps getting louder before you saw a considerably young, suit-clad man walking towards your desk. 

"I'm here to see Chris? I'm Director Kang," he told you, though you didn't need him to introduce himself, knowing very well who he was. 

"He's in there," you held a finger up to signal him to wait as you picked up your desk telephone, pressing a button to page Chris. 

"Director Kang's here to see you." 

"Okay, send him in."

Chris closed the work he was doing on his desktop, making his way over to the leather couches as he saw his friend enter the room. 

"Yo, when were you planning on telling me about your hot secretary?" 

Chris' eyebrows raised, "didn't think that was something worth mentioning."

"Well, why not?" his friend frowned, his features pulling into one of shock, "wait, don't tell me... you guys are dating?" 

Chris rolled his eyes, "no, we're not. And please, for both our sakes, don't try anything funny with her." 

The director was about to respond, interrupted by your knocking on the door, the door opening slightly so you could enter. 

"Can I get you anything? Like a drink? Coffee? Tea?" you asked. 

The director simply looked at you curiously, sitting with his ankle resting on his other knee, "only if you'd care to join me." 

Chris glared at his friend, shutting him up quickly before he could say anything more, "coffee for him, I don't want a drink."

You nodded, exiting quickly.

"What did you come to tell me about?" 

"Must I have a reason to come and visit my beloved friend?" 

Chris rolled his eyes, "my time is precious." 

This made the director scoff, "is that your excuse now? Anyway, I came to ask if you were going for Brian's wedding next weekend." 

"Oh, yeah, right. He asked me about it last night and I said I would go, you?" 

Director Kang rolled his eyes, "can't, I've got a business trip that weekend." 

Chris hummed in acknowledgement, "that reminds me. I should get a gift for them soon. Who'd he say he was marrying again?" 

"This girl he met at work, she's nice. But, you know, not my type." 

As if that wasn't enough, Director Kang continued, "anyway, are you bringing a date?" 

He was interrupted once again by the sound of your knocking, the door opening as you made your way over to them, bending to place the cup of coffee down onto the table, making Director Kang gesture to you with his head, mouthing 'you should bring her'. 

Waving him off, Chris was eager to get Director Kang’s attention away from you, almost as if wanting to protect you from getting swayed by him, knowing the outcome was never too bright. 

"Y/N, you can go for an early lunch break today." 

Your eyebrows raised, the prospect seeming almost too good to be true. Since when was he so nice? 

"Huh? But I still have some stuff to hand the legal team..." you sounded unsure, though you did consider this to be luck since you were supposed to meet one of your friends from college for lunch today. 

Chris gave you a stern look, waving you off, making you raise your hands in surrender. 

“Okay, okay, I’ll go.” 

On your way out, you’d texted your friend that you were gonna be able to meet earlier, pleasantly surprised when she’d told you she was already in the area and that she was able to head over now. 

You’d managed to drop off Chris’ clothes for dry-cleaning before heading to the restaurant, spotting your friend already seated at your table. 

“Hey! Wow, you look great!” She told you, giving you a hug in greeting. 

“Feel a lot better compared to last year,” you joked, making her frown. 

“Your boss still giving you trouble?” 

Shrugging, you’d taken a seat, “nothing out of the ordinary. Seems like it’s part of his daily routine to annoy me.” 

She laughed, “I ordered our food already, if you don’t mind.” 

Shaking your head, you waved in dismissal, “no, yeah, I don’t mind. Thanks. Anyway, you look pretty good yourself, how’ve you been?” 

You didn’t miss the way she’d leaned closer to you, tucking her hair behind her ear in a pointed gesture, drawing your attention to the large gemstone on her ring. 

Your eyes widened, “no way.” 

She nodded, “I wanted to tell you sooner but you were so busy! I was glad enough I managed to squeeze in this lunch with you,” she told you, making you pout. 

“When’s the wedding?” You asked. 

“Next week. We’re going to have it in this beautiful church out of town, really really nice place,” she told you, “really romantic, too,” she added as an afterthought. 

You let out a deep sigh, “I hope you’re not going where I think you’re going with this.” 

She gave you a scandalised look, pausing as the waiter had come to deliver your food, “first of all, Brian has a lot of good-looking friends!” 

You gave her a look, prompting her to continue, “well, not that I’ve seen all of them but he tells me that a lot of them are single! And you know who else is single…” she pointed her finger towards you with an overly excited glint to her grin. 

“We’ve been through this a million times, Eujin. I’ve tried but it’s really hard to find a guy that’s willing to cope with… you know, my kind of schedule,” you gave her a tired (wistful) sigh, “and with my schedule, I doubt I have the time, not to mention the energy to date.” 

Eujin’s lips twisted into a frown, “but it’s been so long! Don’t you want to get back in the dating scene?” 

You scoffed, cutting into your food harshly before taking a bite. 

“Of course I do. But the last time I went on a date the guy basically shat on me for being a workaholic,” you huffed, “I mean, my boss’ working hours means my working hours, shouldn’t they just shit on him instead? Why is it my fault that he’s basically destroyed what I have left of a social life.” 

Eujin shot you a look of sympathy, “I’d say I pitied you, but it’s not like you can’t get a job anywhere else, you know?” 

You’d kept your mouth shut at that, “I know… it just… I can’t just leave when I’ve already gotten so used to how things work here.” 

Of course that was one reason, but you would never admit that there was a nagging inside of you that didn't trust Chris to look after himself if you weren't here, remembering how he'd overworked himself during a crucial period after he took over the company, and you'd found him passed out on his desk when you showed up to work that day. 

You'd sort of made a silent promise that as much as you didn't like him, you still cared for him in a way. In the way a secretary would care for her boss, totally. 

You decided to change the topic, not wishing to talk about your hopeless love life at the moment. 

“What’s the program gonna be like?” 

Eujin’s eyes lit up, setting her cutlery down as she clasped her hands together, “Okay, so. The plan is for it to be a sort of weekend-long thing,” she told you, holding her finger up. 

“Firstly, on Thursday night we’ll have a little girls night type thing, and then Friday is the rehearsal dinner, Saturday will kind of be a little rest day and then Sunday is the actual wedding,” she said, now holding up four fingers to you. 

Your head was spinning at the (rather enticing) thought of taking basically 4 days off of work, before the dread settled in that you had to ask Chris for permission to take those days off. 

“I hope my boss will let me take time off…” you murmured, already rehearsing in your head possible ways on how you could tell him. 

Eujin gave you a resolute look, “you can do it! If he says no just let me know, I’ll go over to your fancy office and fight whoever he is myself.” 

=== 

“How many days?” 

Chris had asked at your desk as he prepared to leave to meet his mom for lunch since she’d happened to be in the business district. 

You fiddled with your pen anxiously, “uh..4 days? Technically 3 and a half. But 2 of those are weekends I just need you to make sure you just don’t bother me on that weekend it’s a really important weekend.” 

Chris narrowed his eyes at you, unsure why you were so insistent on him leaving that weekend alone, nodding slowly. 

Whatever, he figured, she’s just lucky I’m busy that weekend too. 

“Okay.” 

“I swear I’ll—wait, you’re okay with it?” 

Chris shrugged, straightening his tie, “yeah. I’ve got something on that weekend too.” 

You let out a surprised hum, “oh… cool. Thanks…Mr Bang,” you added as a force of habit, not wanting to risk getting scolded for ‘insubordination’ again just because you didn’t call him by his honorific. 

Chris huffed, leaving before you could see his ears reddening. 

Over lunch, Chris’ mom had been inspecting him carefully as he ate, as if the answer to her worries lay in every piece of sushi he ate. 

“Is there something you’re not telling me? Are you… gay?” She asked, continuing, “because if you are you know you can just tell me, instead of constantly upsetting the girls I try to set you up with.” 

Chris gave her a unamused look, “mom, I’ve told you a thousand times. I would really love to date, but it’s hard to find someone with a similar work ethic as myself, that can keep up with my… lifestyle and who really understands my needs, you know?” 

This made Chris’ mom perk up, “that’s it! Why don’t you just date your secretary!” 

Chris almost choked on his sushi, fumbling to grab his glass of water to calm himself down and compose himself. 

“What,” he spoke between coughs, “gave you that idea?” 

His mom looked at him in disbelief, “whatever you just said, you were basically describing her, no? And plus, we’ve heard a lot of wonderful things about her from your uncle.”

Chris couldn’t help but entertain the possibility in his head. It was true, you did work at a very efficient pace with him, not to mention how spending almost everyday in such close contact with him made you understand his own needs and wants even better than he did on occasions. Chris shook his head, that wasn’t possible, right? You looked as though you’d absolutely hated him half the time, he’d be expecting too much from you if he’d expected you to fall for him. 

Chris shook his head, dismissing the thought from both him and his mom’s minds quickly, “no, mom. I’m fine with how things are between us right now.” 

Chris had let you leave the office earlier on Thursday, (much to your surprise) allowing you to have ample time to pack your bags and get a cab to the destination, Eujin having taken the liberty and helped you book your hotel beforehand. 

Upon reaching, you’d texted Eujin saying you’d reached. 

eujin 6:54pm -yay!! Lets just chill in one of our rooms, we can discuss it in the chatgroup!!- 

Trust her to be excitable even about the smallest things. 

You saw an incoming text from Seungmin. 

seungmin (personal)  6:54pm -what where r u I went over to find u but both u and Chris weren’t here- 

6:55pm -im at a friends wedding, took the weekend off-

seungmin (personal)  6:55pm -wow finally using your employee perks nvm then have fun- 

You’d checked in, marvelling at the cozy yet elegant look of the hotel as you made your way through the lobby, letting the lift take you up to your hotel room floor. 

Changing into more comfortable clothes, you’d seen the group chat saying to gather in Eujin’s room, with mentions of ordering pizza. Considering this was your first weekend away from work in a very, long while, you were determined to make the most of it, heading over to Eujin’s room. 

You hadn’t expected to be welcomed as warmly as you were, hearing comments of ‘we were so happy you could make it!’ Or ‘thank God you could take time off!’, sharing the same sentiments as them as you’d let Eujin pull you onto the bed, the softness of the sheets and pillows instantly making a content sigh leave you. 

“I ordered room service,” Eujin sing-songed, gesturing to the Champagne bottles and whatnot on the tray next to the bed. 

“I’ll have one,” you raised your hand, earning a laugh from one of your friends. 

“Tired from work?”  

You let out a loud groan, nodding. This made Eujin nod gravely, “I swear, if I ever see your boss in real life, I’m gonna give him a piece of my mind.” 

You scoffed, “you don’t even know what he looks like.” You’d gratefully accepted the glass of champagne that was handed to you. "and plus, he's not that bad, other than the fact that he finds joy in pissing me off. He just works too hard in my opinion." 

You’d spent your time enjoying the once chance you could relax to your heart’s content without feeling dread at having to wake up early the following day, enjoying yourself as you leant against the headboard of the bed, listening to stories about how they’ve been and how all of them were either planning on getting engaged soon, were in long-term relationships or already married. 

“You guys make me wanna get married too,” you pouted, earning bouts of laughter from them. 

“You’d have to actually date to do that, you know,” they told you pointedly, making you sigh. 

“You’re basically married to your job, already,” your friend chimed in, making you laugh. 

“Seems like that, doesn’t it? I was super shocked he’d let me have the weekend off, usually he’d be swarming me with emails about now.” 

“I’m excited to see Brian’s friends tomorrow, maybe there’ll be someone that catches your eye,” Eujin told you, making you shrug. 

“Just out of curiosity, though, what are you looking for in a guy? You know, we could help you keep an eye out too.” 

You hummed, shrugging. 

“I’ve never really thought of a specific…criteria I guess. I guess I’d just like someone that’s kind, looks out for me, doesn't underestimate me...sort of has the same lifestyle as me? Since it’s honestly been really hard to find someone that doesn’t hate my schedule.” 

You'd almost scoffed at the way your brain had refused to picture anyone else other than Chris while you thought about it, figuring it was probably because he was the only guy you were in constant contact with. 

Eujin looked at you resolutely, “we’ll do our best,” she held up a fist in an action to cheer you on. 

You shrugged, You figured maybe going into this with an open mind would do you some good. 

You changed the topic, directing the focus back to Eujin, “whatever, let’s just have fun, it’s your big day soon, let’s just celebrate!”

===

At the rehearsal dinner, you had yet to arrive, since you’d spent a little longer getting ready, choosing to use your opportunity to dress up a little more, not having the luxury to do so during your usual work days. 

You had texted Eujin that you were on the way with some of the other bridesmaids, her attention directed elsewhere when her fiancé had called her over. 

“Hey, wanted you to meet some of my friends from law school.” 

While being introduced, Eujin couldn’t help but wonder if they were single, remembering your mentioned criteria from the night before. 

“Oh, so are you guys all working in the law sector now?” 

Her husband shook his head, “All of them, except Chan here. He’s the ceo of Bang Mobile Media company.” 

Eujin’s eyes widened, glancing at the brown-haired boy cautiously, as if sizing him up. Y/N worked in a mobile company too, right? If she was remembering this correctly. Was it mobile or broadcasting? 

“Oh, wow. That’s impressive.” 

Eujin had let them introduce themselves more, not being able to help but think that Chan was nice, friendly, and rich on top of that? 

“I don’t get it, how are you single? You’re basically the whole package!” She wondered out loud, making Chan flush, giggling as he shook his head. 

Her husband seemed to have begged to differ, “Chan is incorrigible when it comes to his love life.” 

Eujin raised her eyebrows in surprise, not having expected someone so good-looking to have such a fate, “really? Is there a reason behind that?” 

“He’d never dated much, even back when he was in Australia. He was always super dedicated to his work,” this had served to make Eujin even more positive about this guy’s prospects as a suitor for you. 

“Oh my god, you’re exactly like one of my friends, I should totally introduce her to you when she comes later.” 

“Hey, cut him some slack,” one of his friends had spoken up, “Chan can’t cheat on his job.” 

Eujin felt her phone vibrate signalling a notification, pulling it out to see that you’d arrived already, excusing herself and practically running over to the entrance of the venue. “Chan, you stay put, I have just the perfect girl to introduce you to!” 

“Y/N! You have to come quick, I think I found the perfect guy for you.” 

Your eyes widened, clutching onto the chain of your bag as you followed her into the room. 

“He’s really nice, and friendly, and he’s good-looking! Really cute dimples! And on top of that he’s loaded. I’m so excited for you to meet him.” 

Letting her drag you along, you’d distracted yourself with the atmosphere of the area, wondering just how much it would cost to book a venue like this, tugging down your dress that was hiking up from practically running after Eujin. 

“Hey, I have someone I’d like you to meet. Chan, this is Y/N,” Eujin chirped, the names causing the both of your heads to shoot up, locking eyes with each other as a feeling of doom built in the pit of your stomach. 

Your eyes widened in panic, glancing down at your attire, back to him, who was dressed in a flowy black shirt that you were sure cost more than your one week’s pay, the top few buttons of his shirt undone to reveal a simple silver necklace, and fitted black pants, your gaze landing on the small silver rings on his ears, almost feeling as though you were looking at a different person. 

Chris thought so too, seeming to have the same panic as you as he tried not to let his gaze linger too long on your dress, nodding his head at you in greeting, “nice to uh…meet you.” 

His ears had felt hot as you nodded back at him, almost startling when Eujin had cheered, leaning over to whisper to you, “I’ll make sure you guys get to sit next to each other.” 

You were about to protest when she’d left, leaving you standing at the bar with Chris. 

“So, Y/N, how do you know the bride to be?” 

You gulped, wanting to slap yourself for how your gaze had kept returning to Chris, unable to shake the feeling of needing to be in work-mode now with his presence before you. 

“Oh, uh, we were friends since college,” you answered simply. 

“Cool, did you guys have the same major?” Chris had to stop himself from glaring at his friend, a strange feeling inside of him as he recognised the look on his friend’s face and his posture to be that which he used whenever he was interested in a girl. 

You shook your head, “uh, not quite. I majored in law but she majored in journalism.” You tried to respond as calmly as you could, not being able to shake Chris’ gaze off of you, feeling as though at any moment he was going to call you out for something you weren’t even aware of.

You saw the guy practically light up at the mention of law. 

“Woah, that’s really coincidental. All of us met in law school,” he gestured to the group of them, making you laugh nervously. 

“Where are you guys um… dates?” You asked, immediately regretting the question when you saw the way Chris was practically glaring at you. 

You didn’t understand why he was glaring at you, wasn’t it a valid question? 

“We didn’t bring dates, unfortunately. Did you?” 

You shook your head, making Chris snort. “Does it look like she brought a date? She literally came in alone.” 

You narrowed your eyes at him, unsure where his spitefulness was coming from, especially when his friend was just trying to make conversation with you. 

You scoffed, folding your arms. “Yeah, pity. Maybe I’d have time to date if I wasn’t always so busy running around doing shit for my boss,” you cast a pointed glance at him, bringing a hand up to nonchalantly run it through your hair. 

Chris smirked, two could play at this game.

“Same here, I’d probably have the time to date too if my secretary wasn’t always causing trouble.” 

“Your secretary?” His friend spoke up, “I heard from someone she was pretty cute, and nice too.” 

You’d almost wanted to agree, realising that if you did it would put you in a pretty compromising position, simply acting surprised. 

“If I had a secretary like that, I’d just date her,” one of his friends had spoken up, making your eyes widen, wracking your brain for possible responses. 

“Who knows, are you a workaholic?” You asked pointedly, earning amused grunts and laughs from his friends, “ah… it’d be too bad if I was your secretary, then. I absolutely can’t stand dating workaholics.” 

Chris narrowed his eyes at you, the both of you knowing you were just as bad at him, replying calmly, “oh, you can’t stand dating workaholics? Me neither.” 

You were thankful that Eujin had given you a small break when she'd invited everyone to take their seats so dinner could be served, wincing when you'd ended up sitting next to Chris out of habit, momentarily forgetting that you weren't attending a networking session. 

You'd hoped and prayed that you wouldn't slip up more than you already did. As much as you'd wanted to spite him, he was still your boss, and you knew he'd give you an earful for even the slightest hint of disrespect ( which you were sure you'd surpassed already ). 

Focusing on the gorgeous food they'd served you, you saw the waiter pick up the bottle of wine, pouring it for you. 

Having been oblivious, the waiter was about to pour a glass for Chris as well, making your secretary-instincts kick in, your arm darting across Chris to stop the waiter in time. 

"No, Mr Bang, you shouldn't drink that." 

Chris would have looked fairly amused if he wasn't stressed out by your proximity, with you practically leaning over him to speak to the waiter. 

You'd cursed internally, wincing at the way Chan's friend had looked at you, tilting his head in confusion. 

"Mr Bang? And how do you know his alcohol preference?" 

Chris let out a nervous giggle as you straightened up, "uh...well um like...you know it's a really funny story actually... we're um..." 

Not being able to bear his awkward fumbling any longer, you'd butt in, "We work in the same company. Yeah." 

You were lucky his friend had bought it, simply nodding in understanding, "no wonder, you guys were being so weird just now." 

Chris scoffed, "what weird?" 

You turned around in your chair, pretending to pick up your bag, "stop, you're making it worse," you murmured so he could hear you, making him bring his glass of water to his lips. 

One of your girl friends had spoken up, halfway through the meal, "wait, i just realised. If you guys work in the same office, then you must know her boss right? That dude is crazy. We all thought it was a miracle that she could take time off for the wedding," 

You glared at your friend, trying to subtly shake your head in your attempt to stop her, but she was oblivious, "she doesn't like it when we badmouth him but it's true! Ever since she started working for him it's like her social life just disappeared. Her boss is always her first priority." 

You'd never related more to how people said they wished the ground would swallow you whole. Looking down at your food, you'd tried to remain nonchalant about it, but Chris who was next to you was looking at your friend with wide eyes. 

"Oh, really? What else does she say about him?" 

You laughed nervously, waving your hands in dismissal, "nothing that concerns you."

Chris turned to you, dropping his volume to a murmur, "is that so? because i'm hearing all this and i'm getting the feeling it definitely concerns me." 

You let out a huff of anxious laughter, bringing your glass to your lips, consuming your drink in sips because your boss was sitting next to you, but secretly wishing you could down it all in one go. 

Soon enough, all your anxious sipping had made you reach an empty glass, the waiter coming over to refill it for you, earning an eyebrow raise from Chris. 

"Leave me alone," you huffed. 

Chris simply laughed, "what? I didn't say anything." 

You'd tried to pay attention to the proceedings of the wedding rehearsal, and after dessert was served people had started to mingle around more, the drinks having started to kick in as you'd felt a lot more relaxed. 

It was safe to say Eujin was as well, going around to talk to the guests and thank them for coming out of town for the celebrations. 

Soon enough, you were almost done with your fourth glass, oblivious to the way Chris was looking at you, impressed yet concerned. Feeling skinny arms drape over your shoulders, you turned your head to see none other than Eujin, cooing at you affectionately. 

"Tell your boss a huge thank you for letting you have this weekend. I couldn't even get to see you on my birthday or for the engagement party, but i'm so so glad you're here now." 

You couldn't help but glance at Chris, knowing that you'd missed both of those events because you were helping him with something. The first being when he'd almost overworked himself enough to warrant a visit to the hospital since he hadn't been sleeping or eating well (after that, you swore you'd make sure this man was getting his three meals if you could help it), and the second time being when you had to accompany him to a keynote session out of town. 

You were starting to think maybe there was a little more to unpack behind your reasons why you stayed working for Chris Bang. Your only consolation at this point of time being that the rehearsal dinner was ending soon, meaning that you could finally escape the suffocating tension you were feeling. 

"Wanna hitch a ride back together? I drove here." 

You'd almost declined, feeling as if you didn't have a right to be in his car if it wasn't work-related. Chris had seemed to sense your hesitation, simply not waiting for a reply and walking off, hoping his smile wasn't too obvious when he'd heard you jogging to meet his pace. 

He'd surprised you even more when he'd opened the passenger door for you, shutting it gently after you'd gotten in. 

You'd given in to the comfort of his car almost immediately, more-so when Chris had gone to take something from the boot of his car, getting into the driver's seat and draping the soft blanket over your lap. 

"The drive back's pretty long, might wanna make yourself comfortable." 

And you were comfortable, very comfortable. Chris had started to play some music from his playlist, something about his behaviour almost making you forget that he was the same boss that had worked you to the bone for over a year. 

"I'm sorry," you suddenly spoke, once you were in the city, "about what my friends said," you weren't sure where all your courage was coming from, maybe it was the many glasses of wine, but whatever it was, it was putting Chris in an awfully reflective mood. 

"And what I said," you added as an afterthought. 

Chris took his lower lip between his teeth, shaking his head, “nah, don’t worry about it.”

Obviously, that seemed too good to be true, and you’d looked over at his expression in your attempt to figure out if he was being sincere. He was definitely gonna fire you. 

“I’m not gonna fire you, if that’s what you’re thinking. I’m just kind of…like, you know, wondering,” he began, “the uh… engagement party and the birthday party that you um… you know, that you missed. Were they both because of me?” 

You pursed your lips, nodding, “but it wasn’t your fault, you know. The first one was when you’d passed out… you know, at the office, remember?” 

He nodded, prompting you to continue, “the next one was a keynote session that I had to follow you to.” 

Chris gulped, his throat feeling dry all of a sudden. This whole time he wouldn’t have guessed you’d been giving up these things for him from how willing you’d seemed to work. Was this considered neglecting the needs of my employee? Probably. But whatever it was, Chris knew that he was being harsh on you more for his own sake than yours, but he was only starting to realise now that that might not have been such a good tactic.

Chris was already pulling into the hotel, stopping at the valet services as you’d slung your bag over your shoulder, Chris coming out to open your door for you, making you grimace, feeling as though you should've been the one to open it for him. 

Walking into the hotel lobby, you'd glanced at your phone, seeing as Eujin had texted you tomorrow's plans, "did you get the schedule for tomorrow? I can forward it to you-" 

Chris let a giggle escape him, nodding, "you know they would've sent it to me too, right?" 

Your lips parted in realisation, nodding as you went over to press the lift button before he could even reach over to do so, "right, forgot." 

You were sure it was something about your intoxicated state that was making you instinctively go into work mode, whatever relaxation you thought you would be getting on this weekend now seeming all too far from reach. 

"Uh... I can check what time the hotel serves breakfast and arrange for something to be sent to your room if you want-" 

"Y/N," his tone was enough to make you straighten up, goosebumps rising on your skin for some reason. 

Chris was looking at you in amusement, one hand shoved into his pocket, "you're not working, remember? This is your rest weekend." 

Your eyebrows knit in a frown, chewing on your lip as you averted your gaze, "I know but it's just... like I didn't expect to see you here and now that you are I can't help but feel like I'm at work or something," you'd turned to wonder what was taking the elevator so long, watching as the numbers had gone lower and lower, completely skipping your floor and heading to the carpark. 

"You know what? How about this," he began, pausing momentarily when you heard the elevator ding, stepping inside the empty elevator and pushing your floor button, your heart almost stopping when he hadn't made to press any button. 

"You're on the 14th floor too?" He nodded. 

"Anyway, as I was saying. To make things easier for you, let's just pretend we don't know each other, that i'm not your boss, you're not my secretary. We're just... two people that met at a wedding? You don't have to do anything for me as long as we're here, hmm?" he offered, seeming to sense your hesitance 

"Look, I'll go first," he stretched his hand out as if to ask for a handshake, "hello, nice to meet you, i'm Chan." 

"Chan?" 

He nodded, "my friends call me Chan. People only call me Chris at work." 

You'd brought your hand up slowly, grasping his in yours, the cold metal of his rings against your skin more obvious when he'd given your hand a small squeeze. 

"Nice to meet you, Chan. I'm Y/N?" you tried, looking at him for approval and earning a nod from him, trying your best to ignore the way he was smiling. 

"Yes, that's your name," he laughed. 

Letting go of his hand, you were thankful the elevator had reached your floor without any interruptions, realising just how lucky you were to have not bumped into him earlier on as he'd continued walking with you to your room, gesturing to the door opposite your room with wide eyes. 

"My room's here." 

You made to take out your hotel room key, hearing him clear his throat, and you'd turned around rapidly to face him, strangely eager to know what he was about to say. 

"Say, Y/N, I'd love to, you know, get to know you more. What do you think about getting brunch with me tomorrow?” 

You opened and closed your mouth for lack of a response. This was inappropriate, right? But then again, you weren’t working this weekend. And technically, in this situation, Chan wasn’t your boss. So, there was nothing to lose. 

You nodded, “Yeah. That sounds…nice.” 

=== 

“Sounds kind of suspicious if you asked me,” you heard Seungmin’s voice over the speaker, making you sigh. You were already ready, lounging on your bed as if to mentally prepare yourself for a stupid lunch. 

“Right? I don’t know what he’s trying to get out of this.” 

Seungmin knew. But it’s not as if he was going to tell you, no, that was Chan’s job not his. Frankly, he’d had enough of listening to the both of you whine about your apparent personal vendetta against each other. He watched his fair share of movies, Seungmin knew how these things worked. 

“Maybe it’ll give you a chance to actually talk to each other like normal human beings instead of just bickering all the time for no reason.” 

“I have a reason, I’ll have you know.” 

Seungmin scoffed, “really? Enlighten me, then.”

You’d fumbled for a reason, stuttering in your failure to find something that validated your annoyance towards Chan. 

“I don’t know, his dimples are stupid.” 

Seungmin wanted to laugh, “so you’re telling me, you just can’t stand him because of his stupid dimples?” 

Your attention was diverted when you’d felt your phone vibrate, signalling an incoming text from Chan. 

boss  11:20am -meet u outside your hotel room in 10?- 

“Shit, he wants to meet me in 10 minutes.” 

Seungmin shrugged, “10 minutes is more than enough time for you to come up with a less shitty reason why you don’t like him. Or for you to realise that you don’t actually hate him.” 

You scoffed, burying your face into your sheets as you thought of a reason. 

“Okay, I’ve got it. I just don’t like how he treats everyone so nicely and then treats me like I’m some incompetent kid.” 

“You know for a fact he doesn’t think you’re incompetent. He literally trusts you more than he does the other staff.” 

You scoffed, “yeah, whatever. But that doesn’t change the fact that he’s so condescending about it, he thinks of me i’m some kid that doesn’t know anything.” 

Seungmin snorted, remembering the incident where Chan had asked him to tell you to button up your blouse after the directors behaviour during a meeting. 

“Oh, he definitely doesn’t see you as a kid,” Seungmin cackled, earning an eye roll from you.

Glancing at the time, you saw how it was almost 11:30, “okay, I gotta go. I’ll talk to you later.” 

Ending the call, you’d slung your small bag around your shoulder, giving one last glance at your appearance in the mirror in the bathroom before leaving your hotel room, startling when you’d spotted Chan there. 

Dressed in a black pullover and jeans, Chan smiled at you, bringing a hand up to touch his ear, “morning,” he greeted. 

“Good morning,” you huffed nervously.

He’d already begun walking, making you follow beside him, “did you get a good sleep?” 

His eyebrows raised at your question, nodding at you. His hair was curlier than usual, not styled up like you usually saw. “you?” 

You nodded, following him in silence as you’d gone down the list, realising he’d pressed the ground floor instead of where they were serving food on the 3rd floor. 

“You pressed the wrong floor,” you began, not expecting to see the pleading smile on his face.

“Actually, I was thinking of bringing you to this place nearby, I’ve been there before and it’s pretty good.” 

Your first thought was to wonder if it was expensive, knowing that this time you didn’t have the company card to fall back on. 

“Is it expensive?” You asked, seeing him shrug. 

“Not really.” 

Only when you’d reached the area did you realise how much of an understatement Chan made. The restaurant was a small cozy-looking place that served food that you’d only heard of up till now, located along a line of boutiques selling unusual trinkets and handmade items. 

Upon reaching, you and Chan had been led up upstairs to an outdoor seating area of the restaurant, the view of the scenery accompanied with the breeze instantly putting you in a relaxed mood. 

“Do you like it?” He asked, almost sounding nervous. 

Nodding reassuringly, you’d wanted to run away when you saw the way he’d walked over to where you were, pulling your chair out for you to sit on, making you flush. Never in your life would you have thought your boss would be pulling out your chair for you.

“You know, you don’t have to do that,” you told him, using the menu to hide your face from view, pulling it down slightly to watch how he’d rest his forearm on the table, scanning through the menu with a smirk on his face, his (stupid) dimples appearing on his cheeks. 

“I wanted to. You’d never let me do it for you on any other occasion.” 

You had to admit that there was some truth to what you were saying, choosing to change the subject by telling him you’d decided on what you wanted to eat, choosing something that was still within your budget for the weekend. 

Beckoning the waiter over, Chan pushed his sleeves up to his elbows as he ordered for the both of you, the waiter asking what drinks you would want, a teasing smile on Chan’s face when you’d insisted on water.

“What?” You scoffed, earning a shake of the head from him. 

“Nothing.” 

You’d leant back in your seat, about to tie your hair up into a ponytail, hearing the buzzing of your phone, reading the caller id to see that it was your mom trying to video call you. 

Sitting up quickly, you were about to excuse yourself when Chan had reached over, swiping to answer the call as he lifted the phone, pointing it towards you, his other hand beckoning for you to continue. 

“Hey, mom,” you spoke through gritted teeth, your rubber band between your teeth as you worked quickly to bunch your hair into a ponytail, Chan wanting to slap himself with how his ears had started to feel hot. 

“Hey, honey. Where are you? I called the office but they said you were on leave?” 

You secured your hair, taking the phone from Chan with a grateful murmur of ‘thanks’, making your mother’s eyes narrow, “who are you with?” 

“I’m attending Eujin’s wedding this weekend. I’m just uh…with a friend.” 

Chan looked away to clear his throat, catching your mom’s attention, “guy? I thought you told me you weren’t dating anyone.” 

This had caught Chan’s attention, having remembered Seungmin telling him that you’d broken up with your boyfriend. 

“No, yeah, mom it’s just a friend. Can I call you later?” 

Your mom’s eyebrows lifted, looking at you with a cheeky smile on her face, “oh, oh. Yes, of course you can. Have fun, baby.” 

You hung up quickly, shoving your phone back into your bag, looking up at Chan in question as to why he looked so surprised. 

“Your mom doesn’t know you have a boyfriend?” He asked, as if wanting that confirmation for himself, not feeling comfortable with pursuing his feelings if you were still in a relationship. 

You shook your head, “no uh…I broke up with my boyfriend a long time ago.” 

Chan’s lips pursed, nodding, “oh… sorry.” 

You shook your head, not being able to help a breathy laugh from leaving you, “don’t be. He was…it was for the best.” 

“D’you mind if I ask why? You don’t have to answer me if you don’t want to, I’m just kind of…curious.” 

You shrugged, not feeling as inclined to hide the information, since it was in the past now. 

“Nah he just… our schedules always clashed and I was always too tired by the end of the day to go out to find him and I guess it like, you know, sort of reached a point where I started prioritising my work and it didn’t work out.” 

Chan nodded slowly, the waiter coming over to serve you your food, “go ahead, you can start eating first.” 

You shook your head, insisting on waiting for his food to arrive before starting. “But I’m honestly fine now, it’s been more than a year since we broke up.” 

Chan huffed in amusement, “is that why you said you can’t stand dating workaholics?” 

Your giggles bubbled out of you, “honestly, I only said that to spite you. I’d much rather date someone that understands my schedule and reaches a compromise with me instead of just always expecting me to drop everything at their beck and call.” 

Chan nodded, “I get that. Yeah, work is important and all but… I feel like if you really loved someone you’d find any moment you could to be with them. Well, for me at least.” 

You laughed, “kind of hard, when we spend almost every waking moment with each other.” 

You’d looked up from your food when Chan hadn’t responded, the waiter finally coming over to serve his food, though his expression remained, looking at you as though he’d wanted to say something. 

“yeah,” he huffed eventually, starting to eat his food. 

You’d shocked yourself with how comfortable you were in his presence with the knowledge that you weren’t working. This was what you wanted, wasn’t it? To have Chris treat you nicely like how he did the other employees. Only now you were realising how easy it was to catch feelings for him just from this one change. 

Maybe you were kind of thankful he made it easier for you to hate him previously. 

It was true that you understood him better than most, and that he understood you as well, knowing what got on your nerves and what didn’t, how you worked and how you responded to things. Albeit there were a few things he still didn’t understand, you couldn’t deny that Chan was well-liked in the office for a reason, and you were beginning to experience that reason for yourself. 

Chris had been mulling over what his mother had told him about you, wondering if you were feeling the same tension that he was even as you talked about pointless things that made you wonder why you hadn’t talked about them sooner. 

Not that it was a bad kind of tension (or maybe it was), but it was akin to the feeling of knowing that you would both have to confront a realisation soon. 

“Are you doing anything tonight?” He asked as you were heading back to the car, earning a shrug from you. 

“My friends wanted to have some kind of girls night thing, you?” 

He sighed, nodding, “same, the guys and I are going out for drinks.” 

You shot him a look, “drinks?” 

He laughed, shaking his head, “I can hold my alcohol, I just choose not to drink.” 

Your eyes widened, “and I’m only finding this out now because? Do you remember when I had to drink your drinks for you during the first networking session because you lied to me and told me you couldn’t drink that!”

Chan flushed, “I wasn’t lying, technically. I really couldn’t drink that, I don’t like white wine.” 

You shot him a harmless glare, this time, letting him open the door for you as you got into the passenger’s seat. 

“Don’t drink too much tonight, yeah?” He gave you an amused huff as he started the engine of the car. 

“You too,” you held your pinky out for him to make a promise. 

Chan nodded, linking his pinky with yours as he leaned closer to you, “deal.” 

=== 

You’d heard the sound of beeping at your door that night, wondering what all the ruckus was all about, getting out of bed, taking your hotel room key and pausing the show you were watching on your phone, making your way over to your door carefully. 

“Why isn’t the card working?” You heard a tell-tale Australian accent muffled through the door, looking through the peephole to see a head of messy brown hair, looking as though Chan was leaning against the door. 

Opening the door slowly, you’d acted quickly to grab Chan by the shoulders to steady him before he could stumble forward, the confused boy holding up his hotel key and looking at you in confusion. 

“This isn’t my room?” 

You couldn’t help but laugh, turning him around as you’d ushered him a few steps forward to his hotel room door, “this,” you pointed at the door, “is your room, Chan.” 

He giggled, “you called me ‘Chan’.” 

Taking his hand, you scanned his hotel key, bringing him into his room, finding it awfully neat (unlike yours), smoothly guiding him to his bed and letting him flop onto it. 

Letting out a sigh, you couldn’t help but to feel rather endeared, seeing him open his eyes slowly to look at you, tilting his head. 

“Sorry, I promised I wouldn’t drink so much.” 

You shook your head, reaching over him to grab at his blanket, your movements ceasing abruptly when you’d felt his hand on your back as you hovered over him, his hand moving from your back to your head, patting it gently. 

Pulling the blanket up harshly in your panic to cover him, straightening up as quickly as you could. 

“Shut up, go to sleep. Goodnight,” you said, hurriedly exiting the hotel room and going back to your room, closing the door behind you and trying to calm your rapid heartbeat. 

The next time you’d seen him was at the hotel lobby, where you’d agreed to meet him so you could head to the wedding venue together. Chan had come down wearing a nice suit, something you were more used to seeing him in, his hair styled up in a familiar manner. 

Greeting each other, you’d both decided to pretend the night before hadn’t occurred. With you being one of the bridesmaids and Chan being one of the groomsmen, you were separated almost immediately upon reaching the venue, with him having to help his friend while you helped Eujin. 

“A little birdie told me you came together with Chan,” she sing-songed. 

You scoffed, “aren’t brides usually supposed to be freaking out by now?” 

“Don’t change the topic! So, did you guys hang out yesterday?” 

You shrugged, “yeah, I guess we did.” 

She narrowed her eyes at you, “so? Is there a verdict?” 

You went behind her to take her bouquet, handing it to her as you waved her off in dismissal. 

“Too early to tell,” you lied. 

“Stop avoiding the question! Or else I’ll just have to ask Chan myself,” she huffed sulkily, making your eyes widen. 

“No, don’t do that! Okay, fine. It’s good. He’s nice.” 

Even Eujin’s makeup artist was giving you a knowing look now, making you cower under their gaze. 

“Shut up, focus on your wedding, please.” 

You wished you could’ve done some focusing for yourself, with Chan’s friends nudging him when you’d gone to the back of the church to line up with the groomsmen, all of them seeming to have conspired to let you walk with Chan. 

“Why do you look more nervous than the bride?” He teased, holding his arm out for you to take, making you roll your eyes, bringing your hand up to grasp his arm. 

“You’re delusional.” 

Okay, maybe he wasn’t. You wished you could’ve taken your advice, having been distracted throughout almost the entire ceremony, your gaze constantly flickering over to Chan, and you were sure he’d noticed too, with the way he would smirk and avert his gaze to the floor in his attempt to stop himself from laughing. 

Shouldn’t he be the one that was nervous? He was the one that had shown up drunk at your hotel room. 

After the ceremony had ended and you were all done taking photos with the bride and groom, Chan had offered you a ride to the reception venue, and you’d accepted, not knowing that you would’ve had to squeeze in a car full of his friends too. 

Sitting at the passenger’s seat (thankfully), you’d prayed for the ride to be shorter as his friends had started to question you and Chan. 

“Is there something going on with you two?” 

“None of your business,” Chan sing-songed, only serving to spur his friends on even more, your eyes widening when you’d heard one of his friends murmur.

“Wait, but didn’t he say he had a thing for his secretary?” 

Your hand went up to cover your mouth as discreetly as you could, clutching the bag of your wedding gift for Eujin and her husband and looking out of the window in your attempt to keep your composure. 

Chan had seemed to share your sentiments, his eyes widening as he panicked behind the steering wheel, his mind racing with things he could possibly do to prevent you from hearing what his friends were so freely spouting.

“Oh, did he? Then there can’t be anything going on with her, right?” 

Chan had reached over to turn the volume of the music up, much to your fortune, not knowing if you would’ve been able to handle hearing them talk more about Chan’s love life. 

Eujin wasn’t kidding when she said that she’d make you and Chan sit next to each other, and you’d ended up at a table with Chan nearer to the front, with a few of your friends and their partners. Watching Eujin and her husband enter the hall, you’d been filled with excitement at how happy she had looked, clapping and cheering for them along with the rest of the guests. 

Once they were seated, Eujin and her husband had begun to make their own speeches, thanking the respective groups of people for coming, and you didn’t miss her pointed mention of how she hoped the guests would use this time to get to know each other as well. 

The way Eujin had done things was that dinner was served so that the guests could listen to the speeches and enjoy their meals at the same time, which you didn’t mind since you were absolutely starving. 

You didn’t miss the way Chan had been subtly looking out for you during the dinner, like how he would casually ask if you needed anything whenever he would get up to go to the bar, or how he’d brushed your hair behind your ear so it wouldn’t get into your food (not without a tut of his tongue), earning many surprised looks from your friends which he was oblivious to. 

You figured he was really making use of the ‘let’s pretend we don’t know each other’ thing as an excuse to be nice to you, not that you were complaining.  

You glanced at your phone, skimming over the texts that one of the intern secretaries had sent you to ask you for help, making your friend curious. 

“Is that your boss?” 

You shook your head, “nah it’s just one of the interns asking me for help with something,” you shrugged, setting your utensils down as you swiped into your email app, ready to clarify the problem for her, making Chan furrow his eyebrows in annoyance. 

Reaching over, he’d taken your phone from you, locking it and dropping it back into your bag, ignoring your look of confusion. 

“Hey, I was just gonna email her!” 

“They’re not supposed to be asking you to do things for them while you’re on leave. No working, this is your rest weekend.” 

You’d shut your mouth at that, deciding that it wouldn’t do you any well to go against him, wanting to pull your phone out to just read the emails but dropping your phone back when you saw the look he gave you daring you to continue. 

Your friend had seemed to be fairly amused by your exchange, shooting a look at Chan, “wow, now I’m really glad you’re here. You’re the only one so far that’s managed to stop her from checking on her work when she’s supposed to be resting.” 

You scoffed. Yeah, because the source of your work was sitting right next to you in a stupid suit. 

“Good to know,” he gave you a knowing smile, making you direct your attention back the waiters, seeing that they were serving desserts now. 

“Your friends make me sound like i’m a hard-ass,” he leaned closer to you to murmur, making you smile, nodding. 

“Well, they’re not entirely wrong,” you drawled, making Chan scoff, though not being able to help the laugh from leaving him. 

He nodded slowly, his expression looking fairly amused, “I’ll keep that in mind.” 

You wondered just for a moment if he was only being nice to you for the sake of his own conscience (though Seungmin would beg to differ). And by the late afternoon, you were already starting to feel drowsy from the afternoon weather, the skies darkening as though it were about to rain. Chan had figured it would be good to start heading back. 

After you’d bid goodbye to Eujin, who seemed more than eager for you to leave together with Chan, Chan had offered to drive a few of his friends back to the hotel together with you, and thankfully this time they hadn’t mentioned anything about his love life. 

“Tired?” Chan huffed with a smile, glancing at you momentarily before fixing his gaze back on the road. 

“Yeah,” you murmured, yawning. 

“You should get some sleep when you get back to the hotel.” 

You nodded, “you too.” 

Chan nodded patronisingly, earning a huff from you, too tired to bicker with him. something in him stirring at how he could’ve been acting like this with you a lot earlier if he wasn’t always masking his concern with rude phrasing. 

His mom sure was gonna be excited the next time he updates her. 

=== 

You hadn’t gotten as much of a rejuvenating sleep as you would’ve liked, reality having kicked in that you were back to work tomorrow, the feeling lingering unsettlingly in your chest as you tried to make the most of the rest of your night. Somehow, you’d found your way to the lounge in the hotel, though that didn’t help much in lessening your dread for tomorrow seeing as the only other people here were people working on their laptops.

You figured it was not so much of dreading work than dreading Chan’s change in personality once he went back to being your boss. 

Letting your head rest on the stiff cushion of the chair you were sitting on, you’d fiddled with your phone, texting Seungmin about what had happened today. 

You’d almost startled in your seat when you saw someone take a seat next to you, turning to see Chan, his tie long gone as his sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, his hair already falling out of place as he simply looked at you. 

Raising your eyebrows in a silent question as to ask why he was here, he scoffed, looking away from you but failing to hide the reddening of his ears, “shut up, I just didn’t feel like sitting with a stranger.” 

You huffed in amusement, “did you take a nap?” 

Chan shook his head, “nah, just finished a conference call.” 

Your eyes widened, “wait, why didn’t you tell me? I was doing nothing this whole time—“ 

Chan shook his head in dismissal, “you were tired. I told you, this is your rest time, I’m not allowed to touch it.” 

You frowned, your mind racing with thoughts on how tomorrow could possibly go, looking at the carpet with a hint of a pout on your face, “yeah, and then tomorrow, everything goes back to normal.” 

Chan inhaled deeply, leaning back in his seat as he turned his head to look at you, his hands clasped and resting on his lap. 

“It doesn’t have to, you know… like…” he shrugged, “if you don’t want it to.” 

Your lips parted, unsure how to respond to the implications of his words, unsure how to even process his words. 

“It’d be… unprofessional for me to continue to act like… this towards my boss.” 

Chan raised an eyebrow at you, shrugging, looking at you with an unreadable expression. 

“I think I’m way past being professional already when it comes to you.” 

You’d sworn the air had felt thicker, something about the way the night mood had felt, or how the music in the lounge had succeeded in relaxing you, but something inside of you was telling you to just do it, to lean forward and kiss him. And probably promptly resign the next day out of embarrassment. 

You stood up quickly, “oh, I think my cab’s here, I have to go,” you lied blatantly, Chan not making any move to stop you, simply lifting a hand to wave you off with a tired smile on his face. 

“Go, go. See you at work tomorrow.” 

===

“Can’t we ask Y/N to ask him?” The secretaries and interns were currently huddled in the pantry, having gathered to discuss how great it would be to have a field day soon.

“But Y/N’s equally as scary as him!” One of the interns spoke up, making the secretaries hum thoughtfully. 

You’d stepped into the pantry, walking through the secretaries to retrieve a juice packet for Chan. 

“Hey, what’s up?” You asked, one of the secretaries turning to you with a resolute look on her face. 

“Y/N, do you think you could um… like, you know, ask President Bang if we could arrange for a team outing soon? Like a field day or something, just as a break for the staff. We haven’t had one in so long!” 

You tilted your head at them in amusement, “why don’t you guys just ask him? He’s in his office now, I can go tell him you guys wan—“ 

“No, no! It’s different, you’re the only one that can convince him. We tried last month but he’d just told us he’d think about it.” 

You shrugged, nodding, “alright, sure. I’ll go and ask him.” 

Making your way back to his office, you’d tried to ignore your nerves as you knocked on the door, opening it to reveal Chan who was on the phone, holding up a finger to you to signal you to wait. 

Walking over to him, you’d placed the juice packet on his desk in front of him, earning a smile and a grateful nod from him, before he’d switched back to a serious expression. 

“No, yes, of course. We would want nothing more than to ensure a… mutually beneficial agreement between our companies.” 

You didn’t have to ask to know who he was talking to. Chan had been trying to negotiate a deal with one of the shareholders, since they had been trying to propose to get Chan to merge with another prominent electronics company in the industry. 

You knew Chan was more than annoyed, but he had no choice but to be civil with the president of the company since they did have many shares in the company from the time his uncle was in charge. 

“Yes, we can discuss this more in person over lunch, how does that sound? Yep. Alright, bye.” Chan sighed, setting the phone down and leaning his palms on the table, supporting himself with a pained look on his face, looking up at you with a pout. 

“I really don’t like him.” 

Chan sighed, “same here.” 

“Anyway, I’m glad you came here, I kind of wanted to talk to you about something.” 

“What?” You asked, watching as he’d fiddled with the papers on his desk. 

“Uh… I won’t ask you to handle things outside of work for me anymore.” 

Your eyes widened, “is this because of what my friends said? Because I’m honestly fine it doesn’t matter,” you shook your head, seeing him scrunch his nose. 

“It may not matter to you but I’m personally not fine with it,” he pressed his lips together. “Really, I mean it. Whatever I ask you to help me with from here on is only gonna be work-related.” 

You nodded. Was he trying to distance himself from me? Was it because of the trip? 

Your lips pulled into a frown, nodding more to yourself than to him, “okay…uh anyway I wanted to ask you um… the secretaries were wondering if we could have like a field day or something soon? Like just as a small break for the staff?” 

Chan shot you a look, knowing they’d asked you to ask him. 

“Do you want that?” He asked, earning a nod from you. 

“Yeah, I guess. It’d be fun to just have a day for staff bonding and all…” 

Chan shrugged, “alright, tell them to go ahead and arrange it.” 

Your eyes widened, finding the exchange to have went a lot more smoother than expected. 

“Will you be needing me for anything else?” 

He looked at you as if in thought, taking his lower lip between his teeth and letting it go, shaking his head, “other than to help me book an appointment with President Kim, nothing else.” 

You nodded slowly, exiting the room. 

By only asking you for work-related things, you’d expected your work-load to decrease, but it seemed as though you were currently having the most uneventful day you’d ever had. Other than drafting proposals for the President of the electronics company, there wasn’t much on your plate. 

You’d figured you would’ve been a lot busier tending to Chan’s requests but the boy had barely come out of his office, the only times he did being to head to the washroom, barely casting a glance in your direction when he walked past you. 

As if that wasn’t strange enough, he’d even let you have a longer lunch break, much to Seungmin’s amusement. 

“Doesn’t being in the legal team sound a lot more enticing now? At least you’d be doing something there.” 

You rolled your eyes, “I still have quite a bit of research to do, so no thank you.” 

“Admit it, you’re only staying because you can’t bear to leave Chan.” 

You’d almost choked on your drink, patting your chest to regain your composure, “where the hell did you get that idea from?” 

Seungmin scoffed, “you act like you didn’t call me a thousand times during the trip to tell me about things he did.” 

You’d fallen silent at that, averting your gaze. 

“Whatever,” you scoffed. 

“Isn’t it misconduct, though? If I were to date him.” 

Seungmin shook his head with an amused snort leaving him, “what are we in, the stone ages? Go wild, literally nobody cares. They’ll probably be happy if you manage to get him to be less of a hard-ass,” Seungmin told you, glancing into his cup to see how much drink he had left, “god knows when was the last time he got laid.” 

You flushed, shoving Seungmin, “how can you say that?” 

“What? It’s true!” 

You gave him a dismayed glare, standing up with a sigh as you straightened out your skirt, glancing at the time on your phone. 

“I should probably be heading back now, I’ve got work to do,” you gave Seungmin a pointed look, pulling him up from the bench. 

“I don’t wanna go back to work,” Seungmin let out a loud strangled sound of protest, his shoes stomping on the wooden panelled floor of the rooftop. 

You giggled, a teasing smile on your face, “weren’t you the one saying the legal team was what again? Enticing?” 

Seungmin pouted, pressing the elevator button, abruptly flailing his limbs in a mini outburst before straightening up and composing himself. 

“Fine, I’m fine. Enjoy your stupid office romance with Chan.” 

You rolled your eyes. 

Chan had a consultation with the legal team later that afternoon regarding the issue with the shareholder, and you’d been all-too-distracted during the meeting as you thought about what your possible ‘action-plan’ regarding your situation with Chan was. 

Taking down notes during the meeting, you’d let your train of thought wander, almost doodling onto your notebook, with one hand supporting your head on the table before you heard the legal advisor from the shareholder’s side speak up, a guttural groan leaving him. 

Looking up with an annoyed furrow of your eyebrows, you heard him lean back in his chair, “what does a man need to do to get a drink around here?” 

“You,” the man pointed a finger at you, “go and make yourself useful, sweetheart. Get me a cup of coffee.” 

Chan’s eyebrows knit into a frown, looking at the legal consultant with clear disdain on his face, looking at you to gauge your reaction. Already expecting you to do what you always did, get up with a smile and come back with the man’s coffee, Chan figured he was too annoyed by it to let you do just that. 

About to speak up to the man, you'd shocked Chan when you narrowed your eyes at him, giving him a sweet smile, "sorry, that's not my job here. Since you're not contributing much to the discussion, why don't you make your legs useful and head right over there and get yourself some water." 

You huffed, staring him down as he glared at you, directing his gaze to Chan. "Are you just gonna let her talk to me like that? I'd fire such a rude brat if I were you. Who's your supervisor, I'm gonna make sure he hears of this." 

Chan did his best to conceal his smile, simply turning his chair ever so slightly to give you a small smile, "that would be me, and I heard it loud and clear. Now, shall we continue with the meeting?" 

=== 

You’d been spending hours at your desk, distractedly doing research as you’d kept trying to peep into Chan’s office to figure out what he was doing, to no avail. (Chan had put the blinds down halfway through the day since he couldn’t stop staring outside at your desk either). 

You were technically done with your work, and Chan did mention that you were free to go home once you were done. On any other occasion this would have been considered a miracle, and you wouldn’t have hesitated to go home. But now, there was a nagging feeling in your heart that you couldn’t just leave him here, especially with how stressed out he was because of the business with the shareholder. You didn’t trust him not to spend the whole night here. 

Glancing at the time, you saw that it was already past 10, deciding that you would give him some time to make an appearance before you left, just to make sure he was alive and breathing inside his office. 

Distracting yourself with replying emails, even playing more than a few rounds of a word-search game on your phone, you figured he would’ve come out by now, but there was still not a sound coming from inside the room. 

Once the clock had almost struck 11, you figured you’d might as well go in and check on him for yourself. Going over to the pantry to make a hot drink, you’d walked back to his office, your grip tight on the saucer in your anxiousness. 

Inhaling deeply and breathing out with a resolute nod, you knocked on the door of his office, waiting a while only to be met with silence. 

Pushing open the door slightly, you’d tried again. 

“Mr Bang, is it okay if I come in?”

Upon receiving no response yet again, you’d pushed open the door fully, your eyes widening in realisation when you saw him seated at his desk, fast asleep on the chair. 

Walking over to the leather sofa as quietly as you could, you’d picked up the blanket from the sofa, making your way over to where he was, setting the hot drink onto his desk and making to drape the blanket over him. 

Only when you were adjusting the blanket did he stir awake, making your fight-or-flight instincts kick in, strangely embarrassed if he were to catch you doing such a gesture for him. 

Blinking slowly, his eyebrows furrowed before his gaze had landed on you. 

“I thought you’d gone home already?” He pouted, making you fumble to find an excuse why you’d stayed behind. 

“Sorry, Mr Bang, I was—”

He gave you a lazy smile, shaking his head, “none of that ‘Mr Bang’, nonsense. How come you haven’t left yet?” 

You pressed your lips together firmly, pulling your hands away from the blanket as you tried to straighten up, sighing softly. 

“I couldn’t leave… for some reason. I kind of wanted to make sure you were okay, since I barely saw you the whole day.” 

Chan’s satisfied smile had grew, nodding at you as if prompting you to continue. 

“but I’ll go soon. I guess,” you blurted, “unless like you know, you need me for something, then I’m fine with staying.” You stopped yourself, nodding before you could embarrass yourself any further. 

You couldn’t help but let your breath hitch when he’d reached out to grab your hand. 

“Thank you, for checking up on me,” he murmured, his close proximity making your gaze dart to his lips, averting your gaze quickly. 

“Did you not come out of your office on purpose?” You narrowed your eyes at him, hating the way your heart was doing flips at the way he grinned, his dimples showing cutely. 

You were about to pull back out of your own internal panic, but Chan’s grip on your hand was firm. 

“I’m sorry, I know I said I wouldn’t ask you for anything that wasn’t work related from now on. But It’s killing me, because you were sitting outside the whole day and I couldn’t do anything about it…” he paused, tilting his head as he searched your expression. 

“You can refuse, but I just need you to do one little thing for me,” he murmured,  pulling you forward so you’d ended up seated on his lap, your arms going out to grasp his shoulders to steady yourself. 

“What do you need me to do?” You asked, your voice a mere murmur with how the tension was absolutely suffocating you, wanting nothing more than to just close the gap between the both of you. 

Chan’s hand went up to your chin, running his thumb over your lower lip as they unconsciously parted, “close your eyes.” 

Chan couldn’t help but smirk at the way you’d done so obediently, his hand going to where your neck met your jaw, leaning closer to press his lips against yours. 

Almost as if it was second nature, he’d let his other hand grasp your hip, his thumb rubbing the area soothingly. Tilting his head to kiss you deeper, you’d practically sighed into the kiss, your hands wrapping around his neck loosely as you felt him smile into the kiss. 

“I’m glad it’s you,” he murmured against your lips, his tongue swiping against your lower lip making you let out a surprised hum, not being able to help your smile as well. 

“We should stop,” you pulled away, breathless. 

“Why?” 

You shook your head, “I could kiss you for hours. It’s already so close to midnight.” 

Chan glanced at the clock apathetically, looking at you and shrugging, his hand running up and down your side. 

“So be it, then,” he said, pulling you back to meet his lips. 

===

“Is it just me, or has President Bang been a lot less moody these days,” Seungmin heard one of his colleagues in the legal team asking her desk-mate, making her colleague nod gravely. 

The mention of President Bang had him glancing towards his office, spotting your desk empty and figuring you were inside his office. 

“Definitely. At first I thought it was just me, but he’s been a lot less harsh to Y/N as well,” she agreed. 

“Don’t you think so, Seungmin?” 

And almost as if on cue, you’d exited his office, pulling your hair out of your ponytail to readjust it, looking around as if scanning the area to see if anyone had seen you. 

Locking eyes with Seungmin, you shot him a wink, straightening out your blouse as you’d gone back to sit down at your desk. 

Seungmin scoffed, not being able to help the smile on his face as he rolled his eyes, “yeah, I think I know why.” 

[giftofwonder]

The Tomb (Dabi x f!Reader) - Part 8 (Final Part)

A/N: I just want to say thank you so much to all of you for reading my story and for all of your love and support. I’m sorry this last update took so long, a lot has been going on and the story got pushed to the back burner. I hope you enjoy it❤️

WARNINGS: Death, Angst, Description of gore/violence.

Taglist: @mikasackrmann @missalicebaskerville @liitlesushi @bonemarroww @jamaisvusbitch @winchescumberholland @mira-mirach @babayaga67 @iiashleysykes @orenjineki @badbitchfor2dmen @tsukki-uwwu @piii-chan

__________________________________________

“I don’t like this.” Dabi grunted, walking down the busy street beside you.

“I know, but we talked about this. We have a plan and I’ll be fine!” You shot back, your hand reaching down to lace your fingers with his.

“It’s too risky. What if something goes wrong?” He asked, his brow creasing in frustration.

“What other choice do we have? There’s no way you could even get close to them without me. We’re not in ancient times, they can’t just attack me.” You shrugged. Dabi’s hand gripped yours tightly and he pulled you into the alley off to the side of the street. Your back was pressed firmly against the cold brick wall while his head lowered, a glare prominent on his features.

“You’re not taking this seriously.”

“I am! I promise. I want to help you, and I know that there are risks. I am fully aware of that. I just think it is highly unlikely that two people working in a large corporation are going to attack me out in the open. Especially with you close by. Once you come in, I’ll stay out of the line of fire and let you handle things. If things go sour, I leave as fast as possible and wait for you back at the hotel.” You said, holding his gaze.

“I don’t know why I let you talk me into this. This is going to be a disaster.” Dabi sighed, his forehead dipping beside you as he pressed it against the wall over your shoulder.

“We’ll be okay. Look at me.” You whispered, your voice soft and comforting. Dabi pulled his head back as he met your gaze.

“I love you. I’ll be safe. You can take care of your business, and then we’ll go home.” Your smile was gentle as your warm hand reached up to cup his cheek.

“Promise me you’ll leave if something goes wrong.” His voice cracked as his eyes shifted between yours.

“I promise.”

______________________________________

You were nervous. You’d be lying to yourself if you denied the sinking feeling that you had in your stomach. This was big. It was bigger than you. Lives were hanging in the balance, including yours. There was no room for error here. You had one chance, you had to do everything right or everything would be ruined.

You didn’t like what Dabi wanted to do, his revenge, but you were in this together and he needed this. Not just for his own desires, but also so that when he passes, he can return to his afterlife.

______________________________________

The next day, it was show time. You made your way to the building to make an appointment at the firm, requesting an audience with both Shouto and Enji. Your name got you a time slot, surprisingly. Your recent discovery at the tomb giving you a boost of popularity, and surely peaking the interest of the pair you had requested.

You thanked the receptionist and turned to leave. As you headed to the entrance, a familiar face caught your eye.

“Keigo?” You asked, more than a little confused.

“Well, well. Missed me so much you flew all the way to Japan to see me? I gotta say kid, I’m touched.” He laughed, walking up to you.

“What are you doing here?” You asked, taking in his dress shirt and slacks.

“Huh? I work here. Isn’t that why you’re here?” He asked furrowing his brow.

“No, I had no idea you were in Japan. When did you move here?” You asked surprised.

“About a year ago, I just flew back for Christmas since I hadn’t seen your family in a while. You’d have known that if you’d paid more attention to me.” Keigo huffed, crossing his arms with a pout.

“Sorry, I just wasn’t in a great mood. It wasn’t a very good day.” You rubbed your neck sheepishly.

“Thats the understatement of the century. You put on a great show though, let me tell ya. If only I’d had some popcorn for that Oscar winning performance you gave.” He laughed, and you did too.

“What’d they say after I left?” You asked, your voice quiet.

“Eh, not much. They were silent for a while. Your mom said she thinks she over reacted a little. Your dad said he was firm about the disowning thing, but I don’t really buy it. I think he was just trying to keep up the act.” Keigo shrugged and you nodded.

“I figured. It doesn’t matter though, what’s done is done.” You sighed.

“Yeah, just give it time. They’ll come around. Unless you guys split up, in which case, I would just like to point out that I am available.” He winked.

“I feel like you’ve been waiting the entire conversation to say that.” You deadpanned.

“Yep! Thought about starting with it, but decided to keep it classy.” He grinned.

“Oh, yeah. Wouldn’t want to lay it on too strong.” You shook your head.

“You got that right. But anyways, what are you doing here? You in legal trouble or something?” He asked in teasing tone.

“No, nothing like that. Just wanted to talk over assets and things. Was thinking about moving up here, buying a second home maybe. The Todoroki Agency was highly recommended, so I figured I’d just sit and talk and see what they say.” You smiled.

“Huh, well if you move up here you’ll have to let me give you a tour. I know some pretty great places around here, hidden treasures really.”

“Sounds good! Nothing is set in stone yet, but if we move here, I’ll definitely take you up on that offer. I’ve got to get going, but it was really good seeing you.” You said, giving a squeeze to his arm.

“Alright, I’ll see you around. Don’t get in too much trouble.” He laughed, waving you off as you made your exit.

______________________________________

It was finally time for your appointment, so you and Dabi made you way to the firm and checked in. You were led to a hall upstairs outside of the conference room. The receptionist told you to take a seat and that they’d call you in shortly. A few moments later, the woman came back and said you were free to enter, before departing back to the main lobby.

Dabi waited out in the hall, disguised in a high collared jacket, scarf and sunglasses. You had laughed when he had come out wearing it, but you knew he had too. He looked too distinct. Too easy to spot. And for everything to go smoothly, it started with him fading into the background.

You opened the large door to the conference room and stepped inside. The air was chilly, and you clutched your sweater tighter around you.

The two men greeted you, already seated at the table.

“Miss Y/N, it’s a pleasure to meet you. I am Enji Todoroki, and this is my son, Shouto Todoroki.” Enji said. His presence was intimidating, that was for sure. He was very large, standing both tall and broad. His face held a deep scar and though his eyes were the same color as Dabi’s, they lacked all of the warmth that his carried.

“The pleasure is mine! Thank you for meeting with me.” You beamed, extending your hand. Enji took it and his grip was firm, as you had imagined it would be. Then you turned to Shouto, but as he reached out you noticed his missing digit.

He paused his movement at your stare, before slowly continuing to give you a gentle handshake, polar opposite to his fathers.

“I’m sorry, I know it’s a bit unsightly to look at.” He said with a sad smile, curling his hand into a fist as it made its way back to his side.

“Don’t apologize, I’m not bothered. My step father is missing one of his legs, so I’m familiar with the sight. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.” You gave him a soft smile.

“No, you’re fine. Shouto just has a lack of confidence when talking with women. My boy is always assuming the worst!” Enji laughed, though it sounded more like a bark, as he slapped Shouto’s back. It was obvious Shouto was less than thrilled about his fathers contact and remark, and you almost laughed at the bizarre tension between the two, though you didn’t know if the impulse was from amusement or the sheer awkwardness hanging in the air.

Shouto cleared his throat, “I must say, I was surprised you had requested an appointment with us. We recently read about your tomb discovery and thought it was fascinating. If I may ask, what brings you to Japan?”

“Thank you, I’m glad my work interested you. I just wanted to talk a few things over, well, both of us did.” You smiled.

“Both of us?” Enji asked skeptically.

“Oh! Yes, I brought my husband with me, he’s outside waiting in the hall. I only listed my name on the appointment reservation, so I wasn’t sure if he could come in with me.” You laughed.

“Ah, yes, of course. That’s fine. Please, go grab him if you’d like.” Shouto smiled. You thanked him and walked to the door, peeking out to wave Dabi inside.

He strolled in, and you could feel the air shift to something sinister as he threw off his disguise.

Enji was the first to react, shooting up from his chair.

“How is it that you’re here?” Enji demanded, making Dabi laugh.

“I could say the same to you, old man.” Dabi sneered.

You backed away from the three to the far side of the room beside the door, making sure you could escape easily if it was needed. Though you didn’t want to, you’d keep your promise if things got out of hand.

“So, you’re finally here, big brother.” Shouto said, his tone bored.

“All thanks to you.” Dabi spat.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Enji said.

“Our dear Shouto has been pulling a lot of strings since his death, it seems. What I want to know, is why?” Dabi finished, directing his attention back to his brother.

“You ruined it all. You and your group of scum. So I talked to the gods, Set, Shu and Tefnut, and asked them for guidance on rebuilding our once great society. They were kind enough to help.” Shouto told him.

“Funny, Osiris and Neith were more than willing to bring me back as a favor to them just to stop you.” Dabi laughed.

“I’m aware. They warned me of your possible resurrection long ago. It’s why I had your tomb designed the way I did. Why I sacrificed a finger to keep you from returning to the afterlife if you actually did manage it, but I’ve got to say, I’m surprised you found a way back and tracked us down. I’m almost impressed.” Shoto smirked.

“You’re a real piece of shit, you know that.” Dabi growled.

“I didn’t want it to be like this. You were the one who came after us. I’m just trying to fix what you broke.” Shouto said, a glare prominent on his face.

“You keep telling yourself that. You’re just a pawn to him,” Dabi laughed, pointing to his father, “this was never what you wanted. This was what HE wanted. You’re still just following in his shadow. I gotta say, I didn’t think you’d be the one behind it. The old man, I get. But you, that was unexpected.”

“I just want a peaceful world where everything is in order. I’m not like you, making chaos, ruining lives, and in your spare time off playing house. What is that woman to you? A tool? Leverage? Will you just throw her away when your satisfied?” Shouto said, motioning to you.

“Don’t even fucking look at her. She’s not some petty tool. She’s my wife. She will be here long after you, both her and our child!” Dabi roared at him. You could feel the heat filling the room and swallowed thickly. There was silence. Something changed.

Shouto’s eyes wandered to you, he held your gaze for a moment, and then his eyes shifted to your stomach. Your hands wrapped around it instinctively as your heart skipped a beat.

“You’re unfit to be a father. After you pass, well make sure to help raise the child properly. Your “wife” will be well taken care of.” Enji said, breaking his silence as he stepped toward you. Dabi was quick to react.

“Stay the fuck away from her!” He yelled, blue flames igniting from his skin. Your eyes widened as you took in the beautiful fire before you. He truly looked like a god, an untouchable being, and you were in awe. You understood finally the gift he was given by the gods. The power he was handed.

The fire washed over Enji, as Dabi tackled him to the floor. He beat him, and you could do nothing but stand there and watch as Dabi’s fists connected with his face repeatedly.

It was violent and you wanted to look away, but you were rooted to the spot, frozen in shock. Your heart hammered in your chest as you watched the puddle of blood form around Enji’s head. Smelled the burning of his skin.

You were snapped out of your trance by a harsh tug to your arm.

“Hey, we gotta go!” Keigo whispered beside you, his other hand gripping the gun on his belt as he watched the scene before him unfold. You ripped your arm back.

“I can’t leave him. Not now. I have to stay.” You said, your voice cracking with every word. You knew Keigo was right, you promised you would leave if things got bad. Your mind was screaming for you to follow him out that door to safety, but your body wouldn’t move.

“Look, I’m sorry. I warned Shouto. I’m so sorry, I didn’t know this would happen, but we have to leave! Now!” Keigo said, his eyes watering as he pulled on you desperately.

“You...you did what!? How could you!?” You yelled shoving him. But his focus wasn’t on you anymore. You tried to turn, but Keigo grabbed your face and held it to look at him.

“Stop it, what are you-“

BANG. BANG.

Everything stopped. Tears fell from your eyes at the sound. You threw his hands from your face and whipped around, finding Dabi bleeding on the floor, his body stilled and unmoving.

“NO!” You screamed, running to him. You dropped beside him and pressed your hands to the wounds on his chest. The blood seeped between your fingers as you sobbed, begging him to stay.

Shouto stood back, putting his gun away, and watched you with a sad look on his face. He knew it would destroy you, that it would break your heart, but he knew it had to be done. He was regretful that you had gotten involved. That another innocent person was pulled into this war. You were just collateral damage.

Keigo approached your weeping form slowly, and rested his hand on your shoulder, trying to offer some form of comfort.

“I’m sorry, kid. He’s gone.” He whispered.

“But he can’t go back! He can’t die, he doesn’t have anywhere to go! And I need him! The baby..” You choked on your words and cried harder.

“The baby!? Oh...oh my god..” Keigo paled as his eyes shifted to Shouto.

“What the fuck did you do? You never said-“

“I didn’t know. It wouldn’t have changed anything...but for what it’s worth, I really didn’t know. I’m sorry.” Shouto said, cutting Keigo off, his voice solemn.

“You’re sorry.” Your cold stare landed on the man before you. “You’re sorry?” You repeated, a hoarse laugh falling from your lips as you pushed yourself up from the ground.

It happened in a split second, before you could even process what you were doing. Something snapped. Your hand grabbed the gun from Keigo’s holster and you aimed it at Shouto.

“You will be.” You said, and then pulled the trigger.

Shouto’s body toppled to the floor, lifelessly. A fatal shot. The door burst open behind you, and you heard the chaos immediately, the yells. They screamed to drop your weapon. The police, you recognized through the fog that clouded your mind.

You heard Keigo plead behind you, telling you to listen. Telling them to stop. To wait. But they didn’t.

You turned toward them, gun lowered but still in hand, and that was enough. You heard the shots, but you didn’t feel them. You were somewhere else. Somewhere far away.

You watched yourself fall to the ground, felt your body hit the floor. Within and outside of yourself simultaneously. And you smiled.

“Can you hear me!?” Keigo screamed beside you, “Stay with me!” He cried. Your eyes opened to take in his tear stained face.

“And never have I felt so deeply at one and the same time so detached from myself and so present in the world.” (Albert Camus). Your mind repeated the quote that you knew by heart, and it had never resonated more than it did now, in this moment.

And then, you closed your eyes.

______________________________________

You awoke on the floor of Dabi’s tomb with a splitting headache. You groaned, pushing yourself up as you spit the sand and dirt from your mouth and wiped off your clothes. Your brows furrowed in confusion. Had you just fallen and hit your head? Was it all some crazy dream? Your clothes were the same as when you had first found the tomb.

Tears fell from your eyes as you realized it had all been some fabricated story your mind made up. Your heart broke all over again. It had felt so real.

Saddened, you made your way up to the main chamber, your eyes taking in every inch of the tomb, fingertips tracing each wall you passed. As you neared the exit, your name carved into the wall caught your attention. Your heart raced, pounding in your chest as you took off to the doorway. You rushed outside to confirm your thoughts, you needed to make sure it was real. You needed it to be real.

It had worked. It had brought you to him. This was the afterlife, his afterlife.

Your face widened into a smile as you looked around at the ancient buildings, newly built.

“You about ready to go home, princess?” A voice called behind you.

He sat atop a camel, his white kilt, his golden jewelry and elaborate belt. The same as when you had first met him. The only difference was the bundle in his arms, the small hands that reached out from behind the cloth.

You ran to him, to your husband, the love of your life. He reached down to pull you up onto the camel and into his lap.

“Is this...?” You asked, your eyes taking in the baby cradled against his chest. He smiled and nodded.

“Our daughter.” He whispered, pressing his forehead to yours.

“Will she always be a baby? Can she grow up here?” You asked, taking your child from Dabi to plant kisses on her smiling face.

“No, she’ll grow. The afterlife is a continuation. It picks up where your world ends. Though she will never die, she will age. She will be healthy and happy, and with us.” He answered, his arms encircling you and your daughter, placing a kiss on your forehead and then on hers.

You smiled, as tears of joy welled in your eyes. You kissed Dabi, whispering I love you as he started off toward home.

Home. You were home.

[pastelsandpining]

congrats on 200 followers!! my request: botw zelink with Selfless by the strokes :)

this turned out a tiny bit more of a Zelda piece than a Zelink piece but it's still there! I hope this is to your liking volt my beloved

Selfless

words: 1806

warnings: read with caution; grief, death mention, vague disassociation

Masterlist

------

It was quite the feeling, to be everything and nothing all at once. Zelda couldn’t recall what it was like to be physical. She couldn’t recall much more than the blank space she existed in, and the horrible sounds that encompassed it every time she was so painfully reminded of where she was. Only in those moments of remembrance, of realization, was she able to get glimpses of the land she’d given up so much for. So much of her kingdom had been lost: children, buildings, the very friends she swore to fight alongside. The Calamity claimed everything in its path and it devoured her, too. It was only fitting, fair, even that she should suffer in the void of existence with nothing but a demon and whispers of hatred as her companion.

Zelda was not in Hyrule, not really. Her body might’ve been, but she was elsewhere, using every bit of strength that she’d failed to have before, in the hopes that her one connection to her home would find his way back to her. But for a very long time, he lay buried deep inside a shrine on a hill. The only evidence he was there at all was the warm, very small, and very dormant ball settled in her chest, pulsating softly with every breath he took in his endless slumber.

It was like that for one hundred long, lonely years. The rhythm of his heart, slow but stable, was what kept her from losing touch completely. Goddess powers or not, corporeal or not, someone could only take so much of corruption, of malice, until it started to gnaw away at her peace of mind. It was a good thing that peace of mind was not an essential part of the sealing power, but she’d already lost everything. It would be too easy to lose herself as well... No, he would come, she just knew it, and she would live against the odds, for him.

So Zelda waited, ever patient, watching the land of Hyrule pass in bleary, half conscious moments. A flicker of a new birth here, a wave of grief there, a family settling down, a crack of lightning, a call of a bird, all things once insignificant—common. Now, it gave her the assurance that people were still fighting on, continuing to push forwards despite a devastating loss. They were still Hylia’s people, after all, and the Goddess herself put up many good fights.

The kingdom was as still as ever, as silent as the heavy night, when the hero finally stirred. It was nothing more than a twitch of the eyelids, a strengthening of a heartbeat, but she felt it like a fire burning through her chest, sending hope to the tips of her very fingers. He was alive, to what extent, she didn’t know. But she took that warmth and reached out with it, surfing across Hyrule until finally, at last, he came into focus.

“Link,” she called out, into the void of nothing. His eyelids fluttered. If she was corporeal, if she had any physicality at all, she would’ve sobbed. Instead, she tried his name again, begging in a whisper, “open your eyes.”

Whether he was truly hearing her, whether he recognized her voice or not, his eyes opened. They’d never looked more blue.

But she was not the only powerful being with the capability to sense an awakening. Calamity Ganon could feel it too, and for a moment, Zelda was fearful that it would get to him before she did. It would cry out, loud and obnoxious and horrible, and get into his head like the monstrous thing it was. She couldn’t let that happen, not again. Link did not deserve the horrid fate of facing him twice, though the cards had already been dealt. So she did all she could, instructing him from afar until he emerged at last from his grave. The light was brighter now. She could see him better, all of him, from the scarred skin to the shaky limbs and anxious stature. He was lovely, still.

Zelda wanted nothing more than to burst from her prison and accompany him on his journey. She wished to heal his mind and heart, tell him everything so that he was no longer in the dark, and warn him about the horrors he would face. She wanted to feel his arms again, hear his voice, hug him in those moments she knew so well: those moments when it all felt like too much. But sealing the Calamity, caging its physical form in the very midst of Hyrule Castle, a mere few meters away from where her father and mother’s thrones once sat, took a great deal of power. She could not watch him, protect him as much as she wanted to. She wouldn’t last forever, and so conserving was key. Zelda did not rush him, she did not plead or beg. It was his decision to make, it was his readiness to determine, and she’d already waited a century. What was a little more time?

She lended him something else instead, with every break he took to confront the Goddess. She gave what she had plenty of: strength. Every bit of drained power, every little increase in difficulty to contain the demon, was worth it to see him thrive. Link would come in his own time, and she would be ready for him when he did. Besides, she didn’t mind waiting. She enjoyed those moments when clarity hit, when she could see his progress from her spot in the realm of nothingness. A naturally gifted boy in many ways, but there was something so precious in the way he worked. In the years before, Zelda had come to understand him as this hard working and duty driven boy, but it was so much more intimate to see his efforts herself. Oftentimes, she felt it was something she shouldn’t have been seeing, but she was proud nonetheless. Link would always come to be the hero he was meant to be. Courageous, determined, selfless.

And when he stormed the castle, the warm pulse in her chest thundering in time with his the closer he came, she’d never seen him look so angry. Of course, he’d lost as much as she, if not more. He had every right to be angry. For one bitter but sweet, satisfying moment, she felt for the Calamity. It had its victory, and Link would not let it get another. He was vicious and cruel and precise, and it seemed now, he was returning all of what she’d lent him. Perhaps it was just his presence that made her feel stronger in the midst of the first break she’d gotten in decades. It took hardly any effort to restrain the beast to Hyrule Field, and she took great pleasure in decorating it with glowing targets for the hero to strike.

In a brilliant moment of intensity, Zelda could feel the world around her again. She could feel her body grow solid, the golden glow encasing her with a divine power her mortal vessel shouldn’t have been able to handle, and she faced the Calamity head on for a second time. With a strained cry, with the fury of a thousand lost souls, with the hunger for revenge for her friends, her father, her kingdom, her hero, the princess took her duty upon her shoulders and swallowed the darkness in the holy light of the Goddess. She willed her magic to carve into every crevice, tear it apart, cause it to feel the very pain it rained down upon Hyrule tenfold, but it would never be enough. The Beast was gone too soon. After a century of holding everything hostage, it was reduced to nothing. That was perhaps the worst part of it all. They would never be able to cause it the pain it had caused them, because it was not human. It was not a thing that could feel pain or regret. The only thing it knew was hatred, and for a moment, as Zelda collapsed to her knees and dug her fingers into the dirt, she worried if she was too similar.

She hated Calamity Ganon, hated all it had done and all it had taken from her, and she hated that she didn’t feel satisfied. She was angry, so incredibly angry, that it got to crawl back into its coffin until another ten thousand years had passed, but all of those lost to its claws could never return. She was angry that she couldn’t cause it the pain that it caused her, that it could take everything away from her and no amount of revenge could ease her pain.

She was shaking. She didn’t realize she was crying. But Link, ever the kind, patient, selfless man that he was, did not leave her stranded. His feet came into view, prompting her to lift her head and blink hard to clear her vision just enough to see him kneel before her. He extended his hands to her. They were trembling just as hard. Zelda slowly pulled her fingers free of the dirt, uncurling them just enough to hesitantly slip her hands into his.

Once upon a time, she couldn’t read his expression. A century later, on the battered ground of Hyrule Field, his eyes were misty and he looked like he would crumble at any point, but he looked relieved. She grasped his hands tighter, more desperate than before, and sobbed out a “thank you.”

His thumbs brushed against her, gentle as ever, and she had very little composure left. Her anger, her dissatisfaction in the truth that the Calamity would never truly die, dissipated like it had never been there at all. She found she didn’t care anymore, at least not in that moment, because she had something. She had hope, she had courage. She had Link, if he wanted her. It was an ache in her chest, nagging in her brain, and before she could think better of it, she whispered, “May I ask…do you really remember me?”

She didn’t want to know the answer. He was quiet for what felt like an eternity, and she wasn’t sure she had another to give. But then he answered, quieter than the wind but as sure as the sky, “yes.”

He tugged her hands, pulled her forwards into an embrace, and she clutched the back of his tunic with eager fingers. She could cry again, but she realized with a start that he was the one sobbing instead. Zelda held him tighter, buried her face in his hair, whispered into the wind that she was here, that they were okay, that it was over.

And when they finally lifted their heads, when Link smiled at her, she had no trouble believing it.

[pl-panda]

The vines that bind us - Chapter 7

Chapter 1 || Previous || Next

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After double-checking with security, it turned out that Tim Drake did not show to work. She sighed. Looks like more work for her… Just like Nathalie said.

She started by greeting the two plants in Mr. Drake’s office. Both were incredibly satisfied with themselves that they earned bigger pots. They were also even happier to see her. Next, she took care of her new plants. The two on her desk she quickly took a liking to. They were cute. Only the large plant that now stood in the corner next to the vent was snarky and dared to make an inappropriate comment about one of the office plants. The hole in that leaf was caused by a bullet thank you very much. Mari quickly and clearly explained where it made mistakes. 

With that done, she got to the paperwork that was left on her desk. There were many things to be done before the lunch break.

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Chloe was giddy the whole day. She got a green light to deal with the Liar in any way she wished. So many plans. So many possible revenge options. So many lawsuits to be filled. But as she was walking to the cafeteria, a new, even more devious, plan formed in her head. She would need the help of a certain stuck-up brat, but if she got him to help, it would not only destroy Lila but utterly ruin her. She already had several ideas from her other schemes that could be adjusted. Oh, this would be glorious if only she found… there!

Damian Wayne was not having a good day. He was in fact having a really, really bad day. His father had forbidden him from bringing another sword to work until his previous one is returned. Given how efficient the GCPD is, he would be lucky to get it before thirty. He was the only one of his brothers to arrive at WE before lunch, which led to more irritation. He definitely hated the corporate gossip about one Marinette Dupain-Cheng. How she was awesome, how she was a 'bamf' (whatever that meant), or how much they adored her kind-but-still-no-nonsense attitude. She took his sword!

“Wayne.” An irritating voice came from behind. Damian was of course aware that someone was behind him but dismissed it as an employee doing something unrelated to him. 

“Bourgeoise. What the heck do you want from me?” He spat

“To show you something.” She pulled her phone from the pocket of her jacket. He quietly admired how she found female clothing with pockets that deep. At the same time, he kept frowning at her.

“I swear, if it’s…” He didn’t finish, because she pressed ‘play’ and the video started. The whole thing laster about seven minutes. With each passing moment, his frown deepened and by the end, Chloe wondered how can he see anything when his eyes narrowed to two tiny slits. 

“I. want. her. dead.” He seethed through the clenched teeth.

“Good. But we can’t kill her. Mari forbid it and I know your father isn’t exactly fond of killing.”

“Tt. What. do. you. want?” He pronounced each word clearly.

“Simple. Destroy her with her own words.” She pointed to the group where she was clutching to Adrien’s arm for her dear life. “Mari-bear is too moral to play with her lies like that. Us? We play to win.”

“Fine. But I want my sword back.”

“Clever boy. I knew you could break into an evidence room.” Chloe smiled. “They returned it cleaned of blood the same afternoon. Guess you were too late.” 

“Tt.”

“Fine. I will get your precious sword. But if you try to mess with Mari…”

“I got enough of it from my father.” He scowled.

“Good. Now, onto the plan.”

---------

Mari didn’t come to eat lunch with Chloe. She was perfectly aware that the girl would start one of their plans and wanted to have an alibi. Instead, she dived into the paperwork that had to be done as soon as possible. It was going on good and if she dealt with it before the day’s ended, she would have time to try searching for her mother in the evening. She even inquired with the City Hall about the ownership of their old apartment and the answer should be coming any moment now. 

She was broken out of her concentration by a scream of rage and frustration.

--------

A few moments earlier

Damian stalked toward the group of teens that were relaxing from their intern duties. He could clearly see the Liar clutching to Agreste boy like a leech. Perfect for their plan. 

The boy had to agree that what Blonde concocted was both deviously brilliant and brilliantly devious. A perfect opening play. He made sure that he looked flawless before suddenly ‘appearing’ behind Lila and Adrien. 

“How could you?” He asked in an emotionless voice. His face was showing only traces of sadness. Just like he would look if it was for real.

“Who are you?” She asked dismissively.

“Really Lila?” He asked, allowing a small amount of water to appear in his eyes. It was not like him to cry at all, but his mother taught him all useful ways of emotional manipulations and tears were all the way on top of that list. “After all these years, our relationship meant so little to you? I specifically got this trip so we could reunite and you are just… hanging off of some french model?” 

“Listen here you…” She was interrupted when Chloe stormed, her heels clicking loudly around the cafeteria. Conveniently, everyone removed themselves when they saw Damian stalking toward intern-bitch. Speaking to police two days in a row is not a pleasant experience.

“Wayne. What’s the mess here.”

“Tt. You were right. She is a harlot.”

“Wayne?” Alya asked with wide eyes.

“Yes. You have the questionable experience of meeting a pissed Damian Wayne. My poor cake…” She moaned.

“Would you let that go, woman!?” He asked. This time he had no need to play his emotions. Bourgeoise never forgave him and Drake that Cake incident and it grated on his nerves. He paid her back.

“It was my birthday!” She raised her hands up. “And you are all idiots. Lila kept telling you how great her relationship with Damian was. And yet she is hanging off of Adrien, sinking her claws into his arm. I think the English expression was… I swear I read a book about it. Something with red A…” She pressed a finger to her lips, acting like she was trying to remember. “Ah! Scarlet Woman.” She grinned. “That’s what you are, Lie-la. A scarlet woman using men to get what you want.” That was vicious even for Chloe. Adrien took the opportunity to push the fuming girl away and get back. He could admire the chaos that was about to happen very soon. 

To their surprise, Lila calmed herself and giggled. 

“ah! Silly Dami-boo! I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings. I thought we were always just friends. It must’ve been one big misunderstanding” 

The people around started to nod their heads, accepting what she said as plausible. Damian Wayne wouldn’t be the first to get the wrong idea. At least until their phones buzzed. Chloe was smirking.

“Misunderstanding? This declarations of love say something different though. I seem to remember there was even some talk about a ring.”

Lila checked her phone and her eyes went wide. There were messages that looked like from her. That witch even replicated her speech pattern. It was much better forgery than what she did with Maribrat.

“Lila?” Nino stared at her in disbelief.

“I’m disappointed. After all this time together.” Damian shook his head. He pulled a small bracelet off and tossed it at her. “Consider this a break-up.”

Chloe smiled. “So you are free now.” She asked him. Damian saw the predatory grin and felt a sudden need to run. But he knew that the witch was not yet destroyed. 

“Yes…” 

“What say I concede that the cake incident was entirely Drake’s fault. If you take me for a coffee after work?”

Damian gave a distraught Lila a look of hatred. Then, he turned back to Chloe. 

“I would like that. Does 4:30 pm works for you?”

“I should be free by then.” She smiled. “It’s a date.”

With that, she left with Damian toward the elevator. Lila had enough of it and stormed to the bathroom. Soon after that, a shriek of frustration filled the building. Since it sounded like the bratty intern, nobody cared enough. The class was not allowed to leave their posts, not that too many of them wanted to be near Lila at the moment. They had many things to think about.

Damian and Chloe sat in the Law department, both having a satisfied grin. It was totally worth it.

“Just to be clear. I still hate you.” He said to her. 

“Same here.”

“To the Liar’s fall.” They raised a cookie each and bit in. Most people that saw them had to check again because the Ice Prince was actually hanging around someone his age. 

--------

Mari managed to record the shriek and now used it as Lila’s ringtone. It was a nice mid-day surprise that brightened her day. It lasted all beautiful hour until Marleen White, the head of PR, started knocking on the elevator, demanding to see her. Given her state and that she didn’t even call, it was something urgent. Mari quickly let her in.

“We have a huge problem.” She tossed a folder full of pictures on her desk. There were prints of chat screens with various dates. The content was most troubling. 

“I assume someone leaked it to the press?” She shrugged. 

“How can you be calm? It’s a disaster!” 

“They are fake.” Mari shrugged again.

“Fake?”

“A. That’s not Lila’s number on any of her four mobile phones. B. I have no idea who made it, but they have no idea how Damian Wayne acts. It’s straight up the same bullshit she will be facing a lawsuit for once the Law Department gets through the tons of paperwork. And C. This is an American number. Lila had no way of getting it three years ago. Plus the timing is too perfect. She gets punishment from the company and then the scandal with her dating youngest Wayne gets out. Whoever made it settled on fast, not precise.” Mari circled things on the prints.

“So it’s all fake?”

“I suspect she wanted revenge on the company for the extra work I had her be assigned.” Mari grinned at the memory of the shriek. “Or, someone’s doing it in her name.” For a moment her thoughts wandered to Chloe. She would have to speak to her soon.

“We will deny it and post all of the details you highlighted. The tabloids might still latch on it.”

“To be honest, I think it will be better than being dragged through the mud for the deaths. Especially since there was no story attached. Personally, I can’t care less about celebrity romance.” She dismissed the concern. It pained her a bit to speak about the dead in such a dismissive manner, but through the day she slowly absorbed that it was not her fault. She couldn’t blame herself. That’s what Marinette would do. Marinette was left in Paris by the irritating classmates and had her luggage (full of Adrien’s cheese-stinking socks) sent to India or somewhere. 

“That’s… quite a good idea. I assume you will want this forwarded to the Law department to add to the lawsuit.” 

“No point. It’s fake and we have no proof who leaked it. I’m plenty certain we have nothing or that person would already be sitting in HR.”

“The IT is looking into it, but they have little hopes. It went through an external server that we can’t get access to legally. Whoever leaked it was smart enough to avoid easy detection.”

“Good. By the way, what about that statement?”

“I sent it to your email.”

“I see it. I will read it and send you eventual suggestions.” 

“Sure. It’s nice to have someone competent in place.”

“I thought Mr. Drake was quite a good CEO. He got this company from the hole back to the top?” She tried to remember what she knew about Wayne Enterprises and Wayne Tech

“Yeah, but he is… eccentric. And can disappear at weird times for hours only to then work through three days without sleep”

“Oh. And Sarah was unhelpful?” Mari winced, remembering her own runs when the deadlines approached and she realized she spent the whole week constantly fighting Akumas. 

“She was good with people, but…” 

“I get it.” Mari smiled. “Luckily, I have experience with babysitting.”

Both women cackled at that.

------------

Once Marleen was gone, Mari quickly called Chloe’s phone. The girl picked up almost immediately. She was speaking to someone. 

“I hope I’m not interrupting your work?”

“Don’t worry Mari-bear. I was just speaking with my newest side-kick.”

“Tt. I’m not a sidekick!” A voice came from next to her. Mari tried to resist the urge to facepalm. Chloe tilted the phone to show a pouting Damian Wayne. 

“Shut up Sidekick. I’m the mastermind behind our plans.”

“And I pay for them with my image and sanity.” He replied. 

“Hush you! I will let you know that some people would kill for the opportunity.” 

“Tt. Right now I want to kill someone.” 

“Har har. So funny, are you?”

“As much as I enjoy watching you two flirt… Get a room.” Marigold joked, watching both of them blush red. Before either had a chance to attack her for implying anything, she continued. “Chloe. Did you per any chance fabricated and published texts between Damian and the Liar?”

“Wait! That bitch actually published it?”

Mari facepalmed. She could feel the headache coming. In the hindsight, maybe it would’ve been better to just fire Lila’s sorry ass, together with the rest of the bunch. She could easily have Adrien and Chloe hired on some less permanent deal. They could both do without school for a while.

“Tt. Now I will really need my blade. Please tell me that nobody believed it?” Damian asked, frowning. 

“You’re in luck. Madame White caught the wind of it quick enough. She will be making a swift statement that this is an attack on your person and the image of Waynes as a whole. Plus publishing a detailed analysis of why it couldn’t have been you.” Bluenette reassured him that his precious reputation would not take any great hits. Or not too great of a hit at least.

“Good. Jon wouldn’t let me live it down.” He sighed in relief.

“Now, Chlo. You know I love and support your deviousness, but please try and limit the civilian casualties of your future plans.”

“Fine. I can’t promise Lila’s retaliation to follow the same rules.” She huffed.

“Good. You’ve got any plans for the afternoon?”

“She is already otherwise occupied.” Damian quickly interceeded. He might not like the blonde much, but his honor demanded that if he actually invited her for a date, he did his best.

“I will leave you to your scheming then. Or whatever else you are doing” Mari quickly hanged up on the couple before they could scream at her. She saw a bit of blush enter both of their faces so she counted it as a win. 

---------

The rest of the day passed relatively quickly. Tim Drake did not show for work, so she had to handle the paperwork herself. She never imagined how much work went into organizing one press conference. Sarah did absolutely nothing about it before she quit. Her biggest problem was that she needed to have it happen outside of WE since several journalists expressed their concerns about security. Now she was being hard-pressed to find a separate convention center. Except that things were expensive and Finances were definitely not being helpful. She posted the task to one of their employees. He would send her the offers before the day was up, but there was a slight delay and she would have to wait until four. Mari decided that she can wait and have it done that day. 

She informed Chloe and their teacher that she had to stay in the office after hours and get it done so they wouldn’t worry. Then, she dived into making what felt like dozens of phone calls. Out of four serious offers, three would actually pass the standards set by Mr. Drake in the email he oh so graciously sent her in response to a question about the situation. It was six when she actually got done with the negotiations, but the satisfaction was immense. The final price was ten percent lower than what she initially aimed for, so she had more funds for other things. The guest list was also reviewed in the meantime and already sent back, so that was one more thing crossed out of the list. 

After being done, she bid farewell to the receptionist near the entrance and went to the Taxi she called before leaving. It was already waiting, which was a nice boon for the end of the day. Her next stop was not the hotel though. She gave the address in the seedier part of town. Her old address to be precise.

----------

“Are you sure Ma’am?” The taxi driver asked unconvinced. “I mean it’s not the safest part of town.”

“Don’t worry. I can take care of myself. Besides, my mother used to live here.” She gave him a bright smile. 

“If you say so…” He shrugged and stopped before a rundown building. Moss and ivy had already overgrown this place a long time ago, but the plants seemed… unhealthy. Like they were left to fend on their own for too long. It was not a good sign.

Hesitating for a moment, Mari entered the building. She was hesitant, even though technically her mother was the owner. The ground floor was empty if one ignored several dozen wild plants in various states of growth. Some were dried and dead, while some others were lush and domineering. It used to be well-kept and ordered inside the garden that she and her mother tended to. She would fix that after she found her mother. 

The second floor was not much better. The dust everywhere was indication enough that Pamela Isley moved out long ago. Probably even years. Mari walked around, reminiscing about her childhood. It was not what one would call ordinary, but she would never settle for it anyway. She loved learning about plants with her mother. The martial arts lessons with uncle Wilson when he had time. Science with uncle Victor or her mother. Even the math with uncle Floyd. And Allegra and Claude were there to keep her company. 

Slowly, she trailed to her mother’s room. She hoped to find something useful there. She definitely did not expect to have to block a giant mallet with blue and red stripes. Ducking under it, she delivered a quick kick before running to the stairs. Mari dashed downstairs and burst onto the street. The Taxi driver actually waited for her. He was a godsend at this moment. She quickly jumped inside and ordered him to go.

“So? Unwelcome guests?” he asked a bit more cheeky than she would’ve liked. 

“Yes. But apparently my mom didn’t live there is some time.” Mari answered in a bitter tone. 

“Shame. Hope you have better luck, next time lass.” They rode in silence for a moment. “Name’s Chas by the way. Chas Chandler.”

“Marinette.” She smiled at the man. “Thank you for waiting. I would’ve probably been in a worse situation if not for you.” Mari did not add that the worse situation was ordering the wild plants to defend her. She worked with the wild plants maybe twice before and they didn’t listen that well to orders. 

“Where to now?”

Mari gave him the name of the hotel. When they arrived, she paid him and gave him a rather generous tip for the work. It was already dark, but apparently Chloe was not yet here. The class was supposed to be visiting some local museum or whatever. It’s not like she cared. 

When Marigold entered her room, there was a large book sitting on her bed. Tikki immediately zoomed out of her pocket and toward it. she hovered over for a moment before she huffed. 

“Of course he would do that. He is an idiot though. I would be a much better teacher.”

“Who are you talking about?” Mari asked the small goddess.

“No one!” Kwami said quickly and in a bit higher tone. The bluenette could’ve sworn she saw Tikki get even redder than before. 

“Okay… And what’s that? Nothing dangerous I hope?”

“It’s… it’s a spellbook.” Tikki said after hesitating a bit.

“Like magic?”

“Yeah.”

“Who would leave me a spellbook without as much as a note?” Mari asked. She could see Tikki was conflicted.

“I can’t say.” She finally let go of air. “I made a promise that I would keep the secret.”

“Fine. You’re sure it’s safe?”

“Yeah, but Magic is dangerous. You should only do it with some supervision.” Tikki warned her.

“Good thing I have you then.” Marigold grinned. 

“Mari! You know I can’t exactly just…” Tikki paused. “You know what, it’s actually not a bad idea. I can teach you some simple stuff for the starters.” 

“Huh? I actually expected you to be against it.”

“I trust you to act responsibly. And as a Guardian, you probably should start learning magic anyway.”

“Let’s get started then. Please tell me I can curse Lie-la!”

-------

NEXT

[justalarryblog]

💮give and take by @sky_reid (1k) | Explicit

sometimes louis just needs.

💮One for Luck by @leavingonatrain (96k) | Explicit

The very first time Louis remembers hearing Harry Styles’ deep, deep voice, he’s just won gold at the World Equestrian Games and he’s officially back on Great Britain’s Olympic team. He’s also three sheets to the wind, drunk on victory and champagne, and there’s a gorgeous boy whispering in his ear. Life’s grand.

(AU: Louis and Harry are professional riders on the British Olympic team.)

💮Am I More Than You Bargained For Yet? by @afangirlfantasy (45k) | Mature

“It sounds to me like the people you’ve allowed to be a part of your life, don’t deserve even a fraction of a minute of it.” As they repeat over and over, Harry calls out to fate and destiny, asking them why that can’t be true? Why can’t Harry be deserving of love? Why can’t Harry be as special as Louis argues he is? Louis’ beliefs ring in Harry’s mind like the most hopeful of gospels, and Harry wants to proclaim them as his new religion. But when his hands reach out into the vast emptiness of his flat to grab them, to grab Louis, there’s only a shard of a memory to clutch onto.

Or

AU where Harry doesn’t know what it means to be in love, and Louis’ still in love with somebody else.

💮I Cannot Dream Tonight Series by @afangirlfantasy (50k) | Not Rated

At 16 years old, everyone takes a compatibility test on their birthday. At some point after taking the test, and along with other data collected, everyone finds out if they are a Dom or Sub.

At 17 years old, everyone receives a bracelet that notifies them when they have been matched. Every Dom needs a Sub. Every Sub needs a Dom.

When Louis’ bracelet lights up weeks after getting it, let’s just say that who he is matched with, is not quite what he had been expecting.

💮Birds in Gilded Cages by @graveyardwitch (157k) | Mature

There is a hotel in London where beautiful young men and women are kept like birds in a gilded cage, prisoners bound to satisfy your deepest darkest desires….

After being kidnapped as a teenager, Harry Styles was forced into high-class prostitution by the evil Mr Cowell. Louis Tomlinson is heir to his father’s corporation, set to inherit millions…But engaged to a woman he doesn’t love and deeply unhappy. When they meet at a party sparks fly and they embark on a passionate and dangerous relationship…But can it ever be true love when one of you is being paid? And can Louis ever rescue Harry from The Bird Cage Hotel?

Warning-This story is about prostitution so there will be a LOT of sex. I do not own One Direction etc etc. I do ship Larry but I don’t care if it’s real or not, I just like reading and writing the fanfic.

💮Don’t Waste Your Time On Me, You’re Already The Voice Inside My Head by @afangirlfantasy (28k) | Not Rated

At 16 years old, everyone takes a compatibility test on their birthday. At some point after taking the test, and along with other data collected, everyone finds out if they are a Dom or Sub.

At 17 years old, everyone receives a bracelet that notifies them when they have been matched. Every Dom needs a Sub. Every Sub needs a Dom.

When Louis’ bracelet lights up weeks after getting it, let’s just say that who he is matched with, is not quite what he had been expecting.

💮driving instructor fic by @LoadedGunn (104k) | Explicit

AU where Louis is a 25-year-old driving instructor and Harry is a 17-year-old virgin who’s really awful at seduction, except for the time he gets Louis to fall for him and fuck him senseless and take him on kinky adventures.

💮His Submission Series by tonystankyall (orphan_account) (152k) | Mature

Louis Tomlinson lives in a world where Domination and Submission is a norm. When you are born you are either branded Sub or Dom. Subs get a little pink or blue, depeneding on gender, series of swirls on the back of their neck. Doms get Red or Black, depending on gender, series of swirls on the back of their neck.

Louis Tomlinson was branded with a Blue tattoo and his day has finally come. The day of his 18th birthday where he will be randomly assigned a Dom. This dom could range from younger to older, poorer to richer, and male to female. You never knew what you were going to get. Some Doms were more harsher and stricter than others. Louis didn’t want a harsh Dom to submit to.

Harry Styles was branded with a Black tattoo and he just recieved in the mail that he was finally getting a submissive. Harry was a 32 year old man, settled in, and very very rich. He’s been waiting for an assigned submissive to be chosen for him for a very long time. His Dom friend, Zayn, has gotten his submissive two years prior, a little spit fire irish boy, Niall.

*The rest is in the note*

💮Loving You Is Free by @littlelouishiccups (91k) | Explicit

Louis is a workaholic record label CEO who hasn’t been on a date in nearly a year. Niall and Liam make an account for him on a sugar dating website as a joke. And then Louis meets Harry.

💮sex shop fic (dildornado ‘verse) by @istajmaal, @LoadedGunn (96k) | Explicit

AU where Louis is the most helpful sex shop salesperson in the history of sex shops, and Harry really was just looking for a vibrator with simple instructions (yet ended up getting a hands-on demonstration).

💮Dance Floor Whore by @ropewithnoanchor (7k) | Explicit

Louis and Harry go to a club while on tour to blow off some steam, but Harry gets too drunk and lets another man dance up on him in front of everyone. Louis takes him back to their hotel and spends the next morning punishing Harry, making Harry work to make it up to him.

💮Hold On To The Words You Spoke (Anchored Down In The Throat) by @justletmegohome (13k) | Explicit

“No, no. Louis, just stop. It’s not stupid, it’s never stupid. Believe it or not, I care. I care so much. Do you honestly think I’d still have my dick in your ass if I didn’t?”

Louis chuckles at that, but it’s sad, Harry notes it’s not right. “That will change when I tell you.”

“Never.” Harry kisses every bit of his face he can reach, he has no idea how that can help but he’s going to do it anyways.

“I don’t like the way I sound. ’S all,” Louis says in one breath, going coy as soon as he’s done speaking, his eyes casting downwards.

For a moment, Harry can’t believe his ears. Or the words Louis just said even if he can see them hanging in the air between them. Harry is not even sure if he listened He doesn’t want to believe them, maybe that’s why he’s having a hard time coming up with his own words.

*** Basically, Louis is loud. And then he isn’t. Harry ties him up to find out why. ***

💮I’m Tired Of Using Technology, I Need You Right In Front Of Me by @Phillipa19 (6k) | Explicit

Louis goes away on yet another business trip, but when he stops calling Harry to check in, Harry decides to take matters into his own hands.

OR- Louis is Harry’s sugardaddy who has gone away on business and Harry feels neglected. Louis is possessive and gets a camera installed in their bedroom so he can check up on Harry, so Harry decides to use the camera to his advantage.

💮leave you drowning until you reach for my hand by orphan_account (16k) | Explicit

If Louis told him to do something that he really didn’t want to do, it would be different, but Louis’s never done that, never asked anything of Harry that he couldn’t handle. Except—except maybe this; to obey him without praise, reward, approval, or even mere acknowledgement.

💮Push You Over The Edge (So I Can Pull You Back) by orphan_account (16k) | Explicit

It’s after a long two weeks of interviews and non-stop appearances that have got Harry stressed to the limit of yanking his hair out and throwing a fit and crying that Louis shows it to him, walks in the door with a sleek black bag in his left hand and inconspicuous brown one in his right.

💮smile in slow motion by @istajmaal (24k) | Explicit

“It’s 2011, Niall. People can fuck their friends’ faces without it meaning anything more than that.”

or, Louis is Harry’s dom and maybe also his soulmate.

💮sticks and stones may break my bones but chains and whips excite me by @moonlightlouis (4k) | Not Rated

harry’s been a naughty boy and needs to be punished and louis is there to do it

💮Sweet Dreams by @dormant_bender (5k) | Explicit

When fantasies become reality.

💮To Be Loved To Be In Love by @Angel_Dust (129k) | Mature

At 18, every Sub must take a Match Test to find their Dom.

Poor, Farm kid Louis Tomlinson is matched with Rich, Businessman Harry Styles.

Or, where Harry thinks giving Money, expensive presents and luxuries proves how much you love someone, but Louis is about to turn his world upside down.

✨You can also check My Fic Tags for more fics! ✨

[southern-god1]

Welcome to Waynesville: Part 2

The two police cars escorting the Rolls-Royce pulled up to the town hall, a small building, but there was a stage set up outside, and the police had rounded up all of the town’s residents; just under 2,000 of them, the police keeping them under control. They watched as the tall, handsome young man emerged from the car, and walked on stage, a disarming smile on his scruffy face. He approached the microphone. His voice had a strong Southern accent, and his tone was friendly but with a paternalistic tone as well, as though he was talking down to children or lesser creatures. 

“Good evening everyone! Thank you all for coming almost without incident. It is unfortunate that some of you chose to resist, but they will be released from police custody immediately, isn’t that right Chief Nicholson?” 

The scruffy and handsome chief who stood beside Colin nodded to his men, who promptly rushed to go free the men from jail and bring them here. 

“I’m sure you all are wondering who I am and why I’m the one speaking to y’all this evening instead of your mayor. Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Colin Wayne. I am a proud Alabama boy, former US Army veteran of six years, fitness model, and a multimillionaire. I own Redline Steel, which has been rated as the 4th fastest growing manufacturing company in the US, and earns around 30 million a year in profits.” 

“Why the fuck are you up here then? Go back down to Alabama you cousin-fucker! Where’s Chief Bronson? Where’s Mayor Lyle?”

Colin stopped and glared directly at the person who had said that, having pinpointed him instantly, immediately memorizing his face. 

“...so much for polite introductions then. This is your new chief of police, Thomas Nicholson.” 

He paused, choosing his words carefully. 

“He’s...taken over from the former Chief Bronson. Now then, on to why I’m here! I am very proud to announce that your former mayor, Mayor Lyle, has resigned! I am your new governor-appointed mayor! I have also purchased all the land the town is built on, and everything for 15 miles in every direction. This means I now effectively own every building, every business, in town, and that, as a result, I employ every single one of you. So, it is with great pride that I announce that as of today, you are all employees of Redline Industries, and citizens of Waynesville!”

Immediately, anger and confusion rippled through the crowd, many people yelling about how he couldn’t do that. Only the Southernized police officers were enthusiastic, cheering him on. Colin rolled his eyes. Couldn’t these stupid Yankees see he was helping them?

He decided to make it quite clear who was in charge here. His voice instantly dropped an octave and was loud enough that he didn’t need the microphone. The result was like a burst of thunder with a Southern accent, echoing through the town, rapidly silencing the whining crowd. 

“SILENCE.”

The townspeople fell silent, many clutching their ears, all bewildered by this. Effortlessly switching his voice back to normal, Colin smiled as though nothing had happened.

“Some of you seem...unhappy with this arrangement. But, please, allow me to explain why this is the best thing possible for you. A good many of you are unemployed. Many of you are barely scraping by, some are even homeless. You lack discipline and direction, and you have no respect for your betters. I am going to fix all of that! You will all have a roof over your head, and you will all have plenty to eat and drink, and all the other basic necessities. You will be manufacturing the same products as in Alabama; wall art, decor, metal components for various items, in a brand new facility. And, because this is a new venture, there will be no worrying about who gets paid more, because you all start off with the same salary. The only thing I ask of you is to not try to leave, nor to contact the outside world. This is a brand new venture, and in the interests of corporate security, I must maintain isolation and security.”

More angry outbursts.

“You can’t do that! You can’t keep us prisoners in our own town!”

“Fuck you!” 

“You can’t do this you sick fucker! We aren’t your slaves.”

At this last comment Colin recognized the voice of the same heckler from before. He allowed himself a slight smirk...oh how very wrong he was. He spoke into the microphone again, his tone more aggressive now.

“I am afraid I must insist on these measures. You are all my employees now, and I reserve the right to punish you however I see fit.”

At this, there was a shuffling of boots as the police officers straightened up and stood to attention, ready to disperse the crowd if need be. 

“Now, I will demonstrate exactly why trying to defy these rules -put in place for your own good as well as corporate security, I might add- is idiotic and a waste for all of us.”

He turned to Chief Nicholson and whispered a few things. Three men were brought on stage, bound in handcuffs, faces bruised and bloody from resisting arrest. 

Colin looked them over. They looked so…fragile, so weak, even though one was of them was 6’1”, only an inch shorter than Colin himself. He squatted to be on a more even level with them, and a smirk played across his face. They were sweating bullets, one of them being especially confused and terrified by his own brother beating and arresting him and ignoring his pleas. Colin rose again and spoke into the microphone.

“All three of these men defied the brave officers of our police force, and shall be made examples of. Two of these criminals shall serve one of the brave officers they stupidly defied, and the third…well, he will serve me personally.”

Then, with a wink, he sat back and watched. George Rickover, brother of newly transformed Officer Alex Richards, felt his flesh begin to tingle, as did Doug Harris, who felt similarly tingly. Abruptly, the handcuffs they were bound in vanished. George tried to stand and make a fun for it, only to stagger and fall back down immediately upon standing, his legs…no, his whole body, felt like it was asleep. He, and the other Yankees began to panic as Colin seemed to grow bigger before their eyes, his sinews and muscles slowly stretching, bones cracking as they expanded, and he closed his eyes to enjoy the feeling; the crowd staring in awe as the Alabama God siphoned off 2 inches from each prisoner, growing to 6’8”, a full 6 inches taller, his muscles and other body parts and clothes being changed in proportion. He smirked as he glared down at the shorter Yankees, as though they were more akin to insects than people. Then, George and Doug were reduced another inch, their clothes now hanging off of them, as the already fairly tall Officer Richards grew two inches taller, now 6’2”. 

The two Yankees, already terrified by their inability to move, felt a sense of extreme weakness wash over them, fully aware of how tall the Alabama boy now looming over them was and how effortlessly he could dominate their paralyzed bodies. Then, Colin snapped his fingers, and the real transformation began.

There were horrified gasps from the crowd as their skin slowly began to change color, first becoming a pale blue, then a featureless grey. The terrified George looked over at his brother with terror in his eyes, but there was no hint of recognition, only a cocky smirk and a strange glee as he watched George transform. 

Doug began to panic, trying frantically to move, but his arms and legs were starting to fuse with his torso, and he tried to scream, but nothing came out; the horrified audience watching, speechless, as their mouths, noses, and other facial features vanished, simply becoming more of the strange grey material, which was seeming to harden. Their backs began to turn into a dull blue color, like that of a Civil War uniform of the Union, but made of a rubbery substance, squishy and comfortable, perfect for being stomped on by mighty Southern feet.

Then, both Doug and George’s strange grey and blue forms began to shrink down, getting thinner and shorter, until they were each perfectly suited for fitting into a size 16 boot. They ‘saw’ officer Richards stomp over, smirking down at them. He towered far overhead, like a giant, his bearded face almost blurry to them it was so far away. The crowd stared in shock, too bewildered by what had happened to react, as the huge Southern cop grabbed the two living insoles, removed his boots, shoved them in, and then put the boots back in. 

George was horrified. The immense weight of the huge, muscular, and beefy cop pressed down on him, and his huge boots and socks reeked of musk and sweat. When he lifted his boot to take a step, the pressure was momentarily relieved, but when the boot came stomping down again, he could only scream in horror and pain, the stink filling his senses, his body feeling the incredible weight of the immense officer atop him, an officer who had been his loving brother until today. He frantically tried to whimper out that it was him, George, his brother, but he had no mouth. Officer Richards could still hear his thoughts though, and scowled at the thought of being related to a Yankee. He smiled and stomped down hard on the boot to further break it in. 

His other boot, Doug Harris, was less terrified and miserable. He was gay, and a very very horny gay man at that, delighting in various unusual fetishes; he especially loved feet. He continued to freak out over his lack of limbs, and frantically tried moving, only to seemingly give the huge cop a foot rub with his gel insole. He couldn’t resist enjoying the masculine, manly, superior, stinky socked foot bearing down on him, his senses filled with the taste of sweat, the smell of feet, and the crushing weight of the Southern cop god bearing down on him. With each booming, earth-shattering step, his resistance faded and he rapidly succumbed, becoming a faithful and obedient slave, submitting to his urges and reveling in the chance to worship a foot with all his being. 

While this occurred, the formerly 6’1” Yankee, Adam Dunlevy, was undergoing his own terrifying changes. Colin seemed to be taking especial interest in him, seemingly annoyed by his height and watching with satisfaction as he had two inches drained from his body, his clothes now loose. His flesh began to turn a rich brown, as his arms and legs began to fuse to his chest as he shrank smaller and smaller, rapidly dwindling to a foot, then smaller, his clothes falling off him. His nerves began to grow abnormally more sensitive, every murmur from the crowd audible, every minute ebb and flow of the wind felt, yet his insides felt strange and...powdery? How could organs be powdery? His clothes were now like tents around him, and he just stared up in absolute horror at the cockily smirking scruffy Southern titan looming over him, his massive boots on either side of him. His head began to change, becoming a thick tip, even as his body dwindled smaller and shorter, a thick ring developing on one end of his body. His limbs completely vanished, and within moments, Adam was a cigar. 

Adam was horrified as Colin squatted, his handsome face literally filling the sky for him. His huge hand reached for Adam and as Colin grabbed him, shivers of pleasure ran through him, his hyper-sensitive nerves atingle. Colin brought the terrified Adam to his mouth and, with a smirk, lit him with a mere thought. In an instant, Adam began to feel what felt like an orgasm, an endless orgasm as the flames began to consume his body. With every puff of smoke, his mind vanished, simply becoming more and more overwhelmed by the increasingly amazing orgasm. He could dimly hear the horrified screams of the townsfolk, or his parents begging for mercy and weeping, but he didn’t care, he never wanted this orgasm to end! Colin smirked as he heard his cigar slave go from a state of absolute terror to a mindless slave reveling in the orgasm that destroyed his weak body. The Yankees were horrified by what they saw, and many begged him to stop, but he did nothing, his smirk growing wider. At several points he did remove the cigar from his mouth, only to cockily blow smoke toward the Yankees and go back to puffing away. Soon, there was nothing left of Adam but a pile of ash and a tiny bit of cigar, which Colin ground under the heel of his boot and the wind dispersed in seconds. With a thought, he repaired his mouth, teeth, and lungs to their perfect state, but was pleased with the demonstration of his power. 

He spoke into the microphone, his tone remarkably friendly and smooth for someone who had just smoked a man into nothing. 

“Now, you can clearly see that I can and will severely punish all those who attempt to disobey my new rules. However, I will be merciful. Each of you will have a very generous three strikes before you are dealt with directly by me, although certain violations will result in three strikes being issues immediately; namely, attempting to escape or contact the outside world. Your devices have already been confiscated and destroyed, and your vehicles will be impounded and sold. Work assignments will be distributed to all of you later this week, some of you may keep the same jobs, many of you will be reassigned. Do not interfere with police operations or you will be taken into custody and a strike issued. You may return to your homes now.”

He paused  and added with fake sincerity.

“Thank y’all for coming out to show support for your new boss. Bless your lil Yankee hearts.”

With that, he smirked and walked off the stage, leaving the bewildered and horrified crowd to process what had just happened. He heard them start to scream out insults and statements like “You killed them!” “Devil!” “You can’t do this you monster!”, but the multimillionaire did not concern himself with the opinions of his new subjects. So long as they obeyed him, they had nothing to fear. He also found the comparisons to the Devil laughable. He wasn’t some sort of agent of corruption, unless you considered Southernization corruption, but it was more of a reward, granting power to those who deserved it. They would, in time, come to see that resistance to him was futile.

 As he strode off, he received a text message from Officer Richards, thanking him for the insoles, who said that both of them had started to embrace their fate. Colin grinned and walked to the Rolls-Royce, heading for the outskirts of town...

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This concludes part 2 of Welcome to Waynesville! Many many thanks to @inanimatetffantasies​ for the amazing tf comic pic above, and for collaborating with me on this. I’d also like to thank the various people who helped me brainstorm! As always, comments are appreciated, and I’d love feedback!  Hope y’all enjoy, and don’t worry, there’s more Waynesville coming eventually!