#we began with deciding what New would call Moo

[placetneplacet]

Taynew Meal Date Special, celebrating New’s birthday and moms…

I love this already…

[sineala]

How would you say fandom culture has changed over the years? What are some differences you notice between older and younger fandom folks?

I’ve been thinking for a while about how to answer this, and I’m not sure I have a really good answer, but I’m going to try.

I’ve been in fandom since approximately 1995. Maybe 1994. At that point, the world wide web was a relatively new part of the internet, and the fandoms I was in had most of their activity on privately-hosted mailing lists (predating eGroups/OneList/Yahoo Groups) and on Usenet newsgroups, with fiction beginning to be available on websites as part of either fandom-specific or pairing-specific archives as well as authors’ individual pages. Fanfiction.net did not yet exist. LiveJournal did not exist. AO3 definitely did not exist. If you wanted real-time chat, there was IRC. I was coming in basically at the tail end of zine fandom; zines were no longer the only way of distributing fanfiction, as fandom started to move online. So I have a selection of zines from 90s-era Western media fandoms but even by then zines weren’t where I was doing most of my reading.

I think in terms of generally “what it was like to be in fandom,” the big-picture stuff hasn’t changed. Fandom still produces creative fanwork and likes to, y’know, get together and talk about fandom. Also, almost every fight or complaint that fandom has about something is a thing that has been going on for actual years. People complain that, say, the kudos button is ruining comment culture because back in the LJ days the only way you could comment on a story was, well, by leaving an actual comment, or sending an email on a mailing list, and this might mean that people who would have otherwise commented have left a kudos instead. But back in the LJ and mailing list days, people were complaining that commenting was going downhill since the days of zines, when in order to comment on a story you had to write a real paper letter and mail it and because you had to do that, the quality of feedback was so much better than you got nowadays because people could just dash off a quick email or comment. You get the idea. Top/bottom wars are not new either. Pairing wars are not new. If you’ve been in fandom a while, you will pretty much have seen all the fights already. I think one thing that is new, though, is the fandom awareness of things like privilege and intersectionality and various -isms, as well as things like “providing warnings might be nice” (do you know how much unwarned deathfic I have read? a lot!) and I sure won’t say we’re perfect at any of this now, but I think fandom is trying way way more about all that stuff than it used to.

There are some fights we actually don’t have anymore, as far as I can tell. I feel like it’s been years since I’ve seen the “real person fiction is wrong” battle, but also I don’t hang out in a whole lot of RPF fandoms, so it’s possible that’s still going and I just don’t see it.

There also used to be a recurring debate about whether gay relationships that were canonical were slash or not. When slash started, obviously this wasn’t a question because there weren’t canonical gay relationships in fandoms, period. But as gay characters began to appear in media, people started to wonder “does slash mean all same-sex relationships, or does slash mean only non-canonical same-sex relationships?” Now, you may be reading this and think that sounds like an incredibly weird thing to get hung up on, but that’s because what appears to have happened is that the term “ship” (originally from X-Files Mulder/Scully fandom) has, as far as I can tell, come up and eaten most of the rest of the terminology. Now people will just say, “oh, I ship that.” For any pairing, gay or not, canonical or not. Fandom seems to have decided that for the most part it no longer actually needs a term specific to same-sex relationships as a genre.

Similarly, there are a few genres of fic that we used to have also pretty much don’t exist anymore. There are also plenty of genres that are well-entrenched now that are also extremely recent -- A/B/O comes to mind. But there are some kinds of fic we don’t write a lot of now. Like, I haven’t seen smarm in years! I also haven’t seen We’re Not Gay We Just Love Each Other in a while. There was also a particular style of slash writing where you’d basically have to explain, in detail, what made you think that these particular characters could be anything other than straight. You’d have to motivate this decision. You’d have to look at their canonical heterosexual relationships and come up with a way to explain why all those had happened in order to reconcile how this one guy could have romantic feelings for another guy. When had he figured out he wasn’t straight? Who might he have been with before? How does he interact with people in ways that make you think he’s not straight? That kind of thing. You had to, essentially, show your work. And these days a lot of fanfic is just like, “Okay, Captain America is bisexual, let’s go!” It’s... different.

Fandom also used to skew older, is my sense. A lot older. I don’t know, actually, if it really was older, but I get the sense now that there are some younger people who are surprised that adults are still in fandom. I have seen people saying these days that they think they’re too old for fanfiction because they are not in middle school anymore. And I think a lot of this has to do with the fact that the barriers to access fandom are a lot lower than they used to be. You used to basically have to be an adult with disposable income (or know an adult with disposable income who was willing to help you out; but even then if you were reading explicit fiction you also had to swear you were 18+, usually by sending in an age statement to whoever you were buying the zine from or to the mods of the list you wanted to join, so a lot of fandom was very much age-gated). Internet access was not widely available. Even if you had internet access, you maybe didn’t have your own email address, so you couldn’t sign up for mailing lists; free email providers didn’t exist. If you wanted to buy zines, you had to have money to buy them. If you wanted to go to cons, you had to be able to afford the cost of the con, travel to the con, et cetera. If you wanted to have a website you had to know HTML. Social media did not exist. You want to draw art? Guess what, you’re probably drawing it on paper! You might be able to upload a picture to your website if you have a digital camera or a scanner, but both of those things are expensive, and also a lot of people don’t have the capability or the money to download pictures from the internet (some people have data caps with overage charges, and some people have text-only connections!), so they won’t get to see it. Maybe you can sell your piece at a con! You want to make a fanvid? We called them songvids, but, anyway, you know how you’re doing that? You’re going to hook two VCRs together and smash the play and record buttons very fast! If you want anyone else to watch them, you are either making them a tape personally and mailing it to them or bringing your vids to a convention. Maybe you can digitize them and upload them, but it’s going to take people hours to download them!

(Every three hours my ISP would kick me off the internet and I’d have to dial in again. If it was a busy time of day, it might take me 20 or 30 minutes to get a connection again. And that was assuming no one else in the house needed to use the phone line. Imagine if your modem went out every three hours now.)

And now, for the cost of my internet connection, I can read pretty much whatever fanfiction I want, whenever I want it. I can see all the fanart I want! I can watch vids! Podfic exists now! Fanmixes exist! Gifsets and moodboards exist! If I want to write fic I can write it with programs that are completely free, and as soon as I post it everyone in the entire world can read it. If I want to draw or make vids that may require some additional investment, but I may also be able to do it with things I already have. Do you have any idea how good we all have it?

There are a couple of kinds of fan activity that don’t seem to exist anymore, though, and I miss them. I know that roleplaying still goes on, but I feel like these days most people who do real-time text roleplay have switched to things like Discord. I know that in the LJ days, RP communities were popular. But I really miss MU*s (MUDs, MUSHes, MOOs, MUXes..), which were servers for real-time text-based RP with a bunch of... hmm... features to aid RP. There were virtual rooms with text descriptions, and objects in virtual rooms with descriptions, and your character had a description, and they could interact with the objects as well as with other characters, and you could program things to change descriptions or emit various kinds of text or take you to different rooms, and so on. Just to, y’know, enhance the atmosphere. It was fun and it was where I learned to RP and I’m sad they’re pretty much gone now.

I also don’t think I see a lot of fanfiction awards in fandoms. Wonder where they went.

Going back to the previous point, the barriers to actually consuming the canon you are fannish about are way, way, way lower now. You can pretty much take it for granted that if right now someone tells you about a shiny new fandom, there will be a way to read that book or watch that show or movie right now. Possibly for free! Of course you can watch it! Why wouldn’t you be able to?

This was absolutely, absolutely not the case before. I’m currently in Marvel Comics fandom. If there is a comic I want to read, I can read it right now on the internet. I have subscribed to Marvel Unlimited and I can read pretty much every comic that is older than three months old; the newer ones cost extra money. But I can do it all from the comfort of my own home right now. I was also, actually, in Marvel Comics fandom in the nineties. If I wanted to read a comic, I had to go to a comic book store and hope they had it in stock; if they didn’t, I had to try another store. Not a lot of comics were available in trade paperback and they definitely weren’t readable on the internet. I used to read a lot of Gambit h/c fic set after Uncanny X-Men #350. I never found a copy of UXM #350. I still haven’t! But I did eventually read it on Unlimited.

Being in TV show fandoms also had similar challenges. Was the show you were watching still on the air? No? Then you’d better hope you could find it in reruns, or know someone who had tapes of it that they could copy for you, otherwise you weren’t watching that show. It was, I think, pretty common for people to be in fandoms for shows they hadn’t seen, because they had no way to see the show, but they loved all the fanfic. The Sentinel had a whole lot of fans like that, both because I think it took a while for it to end up in reruns and because overseas distribution was probably poor. So you’d get people who read the fic and wrote fic based on the other fic they’d read, which meant that you got massive, massive amounts of fanon appearing that people just assumed was in the show because it was a weirdly specific detail that appeared in someone’s fic once. Like “Jim and Blair’s apartment has a small water heater” (not actually canonical) or “Blair is a vegetarian” (there’s an episode where his mother visits and IIRC cooks him one of his favorite meals, which is beef tongue).

Like, I was in The Professionals fandom for years. I read all the fic. I hadn’t seen the show. As far as I know, it never aired in the US, and it certainly never had any kind of US VHS or DVD release. I’d seen a couple songvids. I eventually saw a couple episodes in maybe 2003, and that was because my dad special-ordered a commercial VHS tape from the UK and paid someone to convert it from PAL to NTSC. I didn’t get to see the whole show until several years later when I got a region-free DVD player someone in fandom sent me burned copies of the UK DVD releases and then I special-ordered the commercial release of the DVDs from the UK myself. But if I were a new fan and wanted to watch Pros right now? It is on YouTube! For free!

I think also one of the things about fandom that’s not immediately evident to new fans is the way in which it is permanent and/or impermanent. There are probably people whose first fannish experience is on Tumblr or who only read fanfic on FFN and who have no idea what they would do if either site, say, just shut down. But if you’ve been in fandom a while, you’ve been through, say, Discord, Tumblr, Twitter, Pillowfort, Imzy, DW, JournalFen, LJ, GeoCities, IRC, mailing lists. And sure, if Tumblr closed, it would be inconvenient. But fandom would pack up and move somewhere else. You would find it again. It would, eventually, be okay. Similarly, if you’ve been in a lot of fandoms, if you’ve made a lot of friends, drifting through fandoms is like that. You’ll make a friend in 1998 because you were in the same fandom, and then you might go your own ways, and ten years later you might be in another fandom with them again! It happens.

But the flip side of that is that I think a lot of older fans have learned not to trust in the permanence of any particular site. If you like a story, you save it as soon as you read it. If you like a piece of art, you save it. If you like a vid, you save it. Because you don’t know when the site it’s on will be gone for good. I have, like, twenty years of lovingly-curated fanfic. And I feel like people who have only been in fandom since AO3 existed might not understand how much AO3 is a game-changer compared to what we had before. It’s a site where you can put your fic up and you don’t have to worry that the webhost is going out of business, or that the site might delete your work because they don’t allow gay fiction or explicit fiction or fiction written in second person or fiction for fandoms where the creator doesn’t like fanfiction, or whatever. Because all of those things have absolutely happened. But, I mean, I still save pretty much everything I like, even on AO3, just in case.

So, basically, yeah, fandom is a whole lot more accessible than it used to be. I think fandom is pretty much still fandom, but it’s a lot easier to get into, and that has made it way more open to people who wouldn’t have been able to be in fandom before. There is so, so much more now than there ever was before, and I think that’s great.

[immaculatetfs]

Hey! I have a story idea. What if a group of bros decide to go cow tipping on a farm and the farmer is a wizard. He stops them and attaches cow bells to their necks slowly transforming them into cows. Their utters produce muscle milk which he sells in stores.

Can do (͠≖ ͜ʖ͠≖)

                                                     Muscle milk

*Animal TF*

Jaques Caleb and Chad had been best friends since starting school together. All three had been quick to meet on the football field, their loud, immature humour making the trio thick as thieves, all the while making the rest of their classmates dismiss them as egg-headed and obnoxious, stereotypical jocks. This bond between these three only strengthened as they grew into their late teens.They spent most of their time together either working out, playing football or partying. There was a rumour that back in the 50’s there had been a tradition for highschool leavers to go cow tipping on their last day, a practice that had been outlawed after perpetrators had mysteriously disappeared. Perhaps it was this that gave Caleb the notion at the school ball afterparty.

“YOOOOO BROOOO We should go cow tipping Broo” he slured

“What? Nah bro well miss the party” replied Chad as he made out with his girlfriend

“WeRe gOnnA MIss ThE pArTY, nah man. It's gonna be a RIOT. Don't you wanna uphold the Greenfield tradition?” Mocked Caleb

“Nah man, come with us , it's gonna be HILARIOUS” Jaques chimed in

“Ugh you guys are such idiots. Seeya babe” Chad gave his girlfriend one last long kiss and the trio left the party’s smell of deodorant and booming music, their heads swimming  with fireball and beer and mouths chuckling as Caleb made ribald remarks of what they would do to the unsuspecting cows.

They chose a field that was about 20 minutes away from their school that just scraped the outskirts of town. They believed that nobody would be looking out as the last caught tipping was ages ago, but still wanted a quick escape. 

After climbing over the wire fence, the three made their way up a hill to the nearest heftier, a large cow with swollen udders and belly, likely late in the stages of pregnancy. 

“Nah guys we shouldn't do this, it's wrong” said Chad, having sobered up on his walk there, but both of his mates ignored him entirely as they usually did. The two snuck up to the side of the slumbering animal, creeping up until they had hands right against her hide. 

Caleb looked left to Jaques, who gave him a stupid grin.

“One……..”

Twooooooooooo”

“STOP” a deep, mature voice commanded. They  froze. Behind them a man had appeared, seemingly out of nowhere

“What are y’all doing on my property this time’a night” he said in a thick southern drawl

“You kids doin’ some cow tipping?”

They were unable to move, each standing like statues in the cold, night air.

“My bad, y'all can move now” he waved his hand

Suddenly they could breathe again

“Sir, We didn't do anything!” pleaded Jaques

“Yeah sir! Nothing!” Caleb paroted 

The stranger sighed. Well I ca……..

“Well do anything, just don't call the cops on us! I have a scholarship and iy that happens...!” Caleb cried out, interupting

For a moment there Caleb thought he saw a sinister sparkle in the strangers eye, but it  was gone as fast as it had appeared, if it was ever there at all

“Well i've been needing work done round here recently, how's that sound?”

The sobered younger men agreed, reasoning  it was better shovel some hay than get caught breaking the law.

“Great, Follow me” 

He led the group to a large shed, heavy with the pungent smell of animals. They could hear cows mooing

I’ll need y’all to stick these round yer necks” the farmer pointed to three huge, steel cowbells, attached to leather harnesses that laying together on the barn floor.

“What?” exclaimed Caleb

“Put it on or do I need to tell the cops what I saw tonight?” the man said darkly

Begrudgingly, the three men lifted up the heavy metal bells and clasped them around their necks, struggling with the weight. 

“Don't we need better fitting ones? This is almost down to my belly button, and it's so heavy as shit!” complained Jaques

“Oh that's gonna right itself now don't you worry kid” the man clicked his fingers and all three of the jocks began to feel queasy. “Now y’all will stay here now wont you? I need to go get some things.” The man walked out of the barn, followed by an *click* as the door was locked.

The three jocks looked at each other, a mixture of fear and confusion on each of their faces. 

Suddenly, Caleb moaned.

“Oh guys, I feel really fucking weird” he said. He felt his balls tight against the fabric of his underpants, and when he looked down he could swear his bulge was bigger

“Guys, what’s happening?” His bulge was definitely getting bigger

“I don't know, but it's happening to me as well!” Jaques stared in horror as his sack grew with exponential speed until became so large it was visible against his baggy workout shorts 

“Ohhhh” moaned Caleb as his jeans tore apart with a RIIIP and his engorged sack spilled out, exposing himself for all his bros to see. 

Bonus pic

“What the fuck is that!” he exclaimed “It looks like a, a …”

“An udder”

Behind them, the farmer had returned with two buckets in hand. He was grinning

“The fuck is happening? I thought we were just gonna shovel some shit and be done?” the panic was clear in Caleb’s voice

“Never said nothing ‘bout that, told y’all that I needed work done. I ain't had no new muscle milk cows for a while, bout time I got myself a breeding pair or two” he smirked at the terrified jocks

“Speaking of” he looked over at Chad, who was growing a bulge of an entirely different sort than Caleb and Jaques. While their balls swelled to inhuman size, his member was growing longer and longer while his balls dropped lower and lower. His dick’s tip thinned, losing its mushroom-shape and becoming slender and pointed. Chad stared at his new member in horror, “I'm becoming a Bull” 

“There's a smart kid! and what are thems bout to be?”

“C..Cows''

The stranger walked over to Caleb, grabbed his member and gave it a firm tug. Orgasmic pleasure rolled over Caleb as thick musky cum squirted out his erect cock from his full sack, causing him to moan

“Hear that? yer gonna be a cow. Looks like you two are coming along nicely, rest of yer new nipples should be coming bout now”

And so they did, pushing out of the two jocks swollen new udders emerged round fleshy nipples, each was a size and thickness that made indistinguishable from what had been their loved cocks.

With the udders fully formed, the farmer tugged the two shell shocked jocks over buckets, his skilled hands milking them simultaneously. At first, hot jets of thick white pungent cum squirted out of their udders, but as the rhythmic tugging and squeezing and massaging continued, the content of these spurts became thinner and turned pink until what they excreted was entirely warm, creamy, muscle milk. The farmer dipped his finger into the liquid for a taste. Satisfied,  he then took the entire bucket and chugged, with each gulp his already toned frame grew harder and harder, his muscles expanding. “ ahh always best fresh.” he exclaimed, wiping his mouth of the warm, rich, creamy substance. 

the already muscular jocks began to bulk as well, though not solely with muscle. Their stomachs, pecs and asses swelled bulbously with muscle that was then smothered with a thick layer of wobbling fat. This expansion left the clothes of the men as little more than rags. Their fingers merged together, nails thickening and darkening as their thumbs sunk into their hands, all the while the same was happening to their feet concealed by their worn sneakers. Soon in place of hands and feet, the jocks had hooves 

As his body bulked up further, Caleb’s centre of gravity began to change. For a precious few seconds he wobbled and flailed, until ungraceful falling onto all fours. Try as he might, he would never again stand up. Jaques had better luck, keeping balance until he felt a harsh shove on his thick muscle ass and he too fell on his new hooves, humiliated.

Chad’s bull cock had been hard and throbbing all the while watching this, pumping him to the brim with raging bull hormones. He was overcome by the tide of  testosterone, surrendering to base animal instinct. Nothing mattered save eating sleeping and fucking. Gone was all of his higher brain functions His body expanded thicker and thicker as he grew to a size that put his two  bros to shame. From his head he felt a splitting pain as horns flushed out through his skin. No longer capable of speech, he roared in pain, a sound that deepened as it went on, becoming entirely animal as his vocal chords rearranged. He fell onto all fours, his feet and hands having been replaced with hooves and raw muscle.

As all three stood on all fours, the transformation accelerated. They felt as their organs rearranged in their massive bellies, their stomach splitting into five chambers as to better digest huge amounts of food. They lost control of their bowles, leaving piles of filth behind the widened holes. The taints of Jaques and Caleb sucked into their bodies, changing into the fertile wombs of muscle milk cows. The pheromones that they released drove the new bull into a frenzy and he mounted Caleb, who had only moments before been his best bro.

“I’ll leave you three too it, see ya tomorrow bright an early for milking” the farmer left the barn, not even bothering to even close the door. 

The skin of the young men began changing, it hardened, thickening into a rough and thick hide as short, pink hair sprouted across it. The last thing to change was their heads, noses moistened, becoming wide flat across their faces, eyelashes grew and hair fell from their heads. The men’s ears elongated into cow ears, being covered with the same hair that was now thick across their bodies. Their mouths pushed out, becoming snouts as their screams of lust as they mated lowered to base, animalistic grunts, moans then finally moo’s. Finally, Jaques and Caleb began to lose their minds, Chad having already succumbed to his base animal lust. Memories of being human disappeared from them, lives at school and at home, their crushes, their best and worst games everything was replaced with memories of gorging on grass, being milked (or mounting) and restfully sleeping in the barn. 

Despite this, there is evidently still present a bond between the three .The two new cows are inseparable. The same might be said of our new bull, though his mind would treat anything with a hole as an intimate friend

The Muscle milk produced at Green Valley farms is the best protein supplement on the market. Made free range, muscle milk cows are cared for in their every want to get the best possible product for you!

[nose-bandaid]

the little flower on your wrist

Wonwoo x (gender neutral) Reader | soulmate AU angst + fluffy ending i promise:) | 4.2k words

sequel to: the moon told me so ☾~ (highly suggest reading it first !!)

synopsis: four years have passed since wonwoo left to study abroad. four years without your soulmate. four years, spent doing all you can to stop your heart from racing every time you thought of him, because he wasn’t ready for love. and yet, suddenly, with a little mistake on your part, you find yourself next to him again, picking at the same flowers in this flower field of life.

a/n: hey thanks so much for loving the first part guys, it made me so happy to hear that people actually wanted it to continue too !! i hope this second part matches what you’re looking for and that you enjoy:)

=====

You spilled everything to everyone eventually. As the years passed and people constantly pestered you about your mark, you didn’t see that much harm in telling them. Especially with the fact that Wonwoo was away.

With the fact that you practically had no hope for a relationship at this point.

To put it simply, your friends were all shocked. Shocked that, with everything’s that’s happened, you somehow managed to hide your mark from all of them — save for the few who knew about it. After the initial instinct to chastise you for keeping such a big secret, they resorted to pity and sympathy, though you honestly didn’t need it. You’ve done enough pitying on your own.

In the loneliness of your bedroom, your hand drifted to your ankle where the mark resided, and pulled down your sock to check in on it — a habit you’ve developed recently. You weren’t quite sure when it started, but at some point, the flowers next to your crescent moon began to fade away, as if someone had taken an eraser and decided to wipe off the petals one by one. 

And every time you woke up to see that another petal had disappeared, a part of your love for Wonwoo faded away as well. You took it as a sign that maybe it really was time to try and move on.

Your plan to move on did end up actually working. You busied yourself with work and picking up new hobbies to dwell on so that your thoughts wouldn’t return to him. And in your spare time, the other boys happily took you out on adventures around the city — Chan and Seungkwan especially — and you’ve never been more grateful to have them by your side. You still kept in touch with Wonwoo, sparsely, but once in a while you would contact the other to check in on how they’re doing.

To your surprise (and joy you suppose), it didn’t take too long for you to learn the art of letting go. Perhaps it was because there was only a single flower left on your ankle, or because Jun got you hooked on this amazing game you’re now obsessed with. Or perhaps, your heart had finally lost all hope in being with Wonwoo and was starting to back off. While you were far from being a master of letting go, you were content with where you were, and for the first time in a long while, you felt optimistic about yourself.

=====

“Now, why didn’t you tell me?”

That effort all fell apart when you received the phone call. You really had no clue how you were supposed to prepare yourself for it — if it was even possible for you to prepare for it. 

Wonwoo had just called to inform you that he was going to come home that month because of a job opportunity he managed to score that wasn’t half the world away. That was already a piece of news you were trying to recover from because Wonwoo? Coming back? As in your soulmate is going to return just as you were getting over him? It was some stupidly accurate timing on fate’s part.

Then there was that sudden shift from joy to fear the moment he asked the question out of the blue. If you couldn’t wrap your head around the fact that you were going to see him again, how were you supposed to react to this? You didn’t know why, but you froze in fear when you heard the question, as if he caught you red-handed.

Your lips parted as you stared at the wall in front of you, not a single clue of what Wonwoo was referring to on your mind. “I’m sorry, what?” You managed to whisper back.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” He repeated, voice devoid of emotions and you struggled to recall the events of the past few days. You didn’t do anything wrong, did you? The last time you spoke to him was last week, and to be honest, you didn’t even really think of him after that.

A few seconds of silence passed until you sighed in defeat. “Wonwoo you’re going to have to be more detailed than this, I have no idea what you’re talking about.” You didn’t know why he was suddenly being so cryptic with you, it was unlike him to have this hint of bluntness in his tone.

“Chan posted a photo last night.” Was all he gave and he left you to your own thoughts once again. Then it suddenly clicked — no matter how far Wonwoo was, you still managed to slip up.

You had gone to the beach with Chan, Mingyu, and Joshua yesterday, and you so ambitiously didn’t cover up your mark, because why bother? It’s not like Wonwoo was there to see it, and no one else would even care about your mark. They were so common and seen everywhere, letting your guard down once in a while wouldn’t hurt, right? 

Or so you thought.

And of all the days and outfits you wore, and all the times you hung out with your friends, Chan just had to choose a picture where you didn’t have your socks on.

“Ah, well…” You really didn’t know what to say. You weren’t even able to tell him the words that you rehearsed before he left, and now you had to come up with something on the spot?

“How long have you had it for?” He asked quietly, he sounded more betrayed than he did angry.

“I got it before you did.” You replied meekly.

“Then why didn’t you tell me? Was it because of what I said? About not wanting to get in a relationship?”

You didn’t have an answer.

“I—” He let out an exasperated sigh. “I was so worried about meeting my soulmate before I left, and then I spent the what — the last four years? For the last four years I was still waiting and worrying about them, wondering if we were ever going to meet, but you were my soulmate the entire time?”

“I’m sorry…” The mark on your ankle burned as if it was ashamed, and you trembled along with it.

“No, I should be sorry, I didn’t mean to get mad about this.” Another sigh. “I’m just a little overwhelmed, and maybe even a little desperate now that everything’s falling into place. It all makes sense.”

“So what happens now?” You dared to ask the question that’s sat on the tip of your tongue ever since he called you out.

“I’ve — I’ve actually been thinking.” He started, and you heard shuffle around on the other end. “Maybe it’s because for these past 4 years I’ve been a little bit lonelier, living away from you guys, or maybe it’s just because I’ve grown as a person and got to learn more about myself.” There was a short pause.

“But I’m willing to, you know, try for a relationship. A romantic one, I mean. I think I’m willing to try it out, especially if it’s with you. And if it doesn’t go so well, then I was hoping that at least we could go back to being friends again, like the ones we used to be.”

Your head hesitantly nodded at his words until you remembered that he couldn’t see you. This wasn’t supposed to happen — this was hardly part of the plan. Your heart pounded rapidly in your chest as your mind repeated his words over and over again. Wonwoo was ready. 

Wait, Wonwoo was ready?

So what happened to the whole getting over him part? It was thrown out of the window, clearly, seeing that your mouth couldn’t form any kind of disagreement to his suggestion.

“Ah, yeah, I’m willing to give us a chance.” You said.

He let out a small hum and then there was silence on the line. Though the conversation was quiet, your ears burned until he finally spoke up again.

“Also, now that this has been confirmed, I’ve been meaning to ask.” 

“Mhm?”

“Has your mark been disappearing recently? Like the flowers?”

There was an odd sense of relief, hearing that you weren’t the only one experiencing that.

“Oh… yeah they’ve been disappearing.” You confirmed.

“Any idea on why that’s happening?”

You considered your next words before replying. “It could be because things weren’t going so well between us? Not that something wrong happened, but I guess, you know, we’ve been so far apart, and as time goes on, things change, we change. Maybe our marks are trying to tell us something.”

You heard him click his tongue. “That’s reasonable.”

More silence.

“Then,” He spoke up again. “I hope that when I come home, we’ll be able to give each other enough chances so that our marks go back to the way they were.”

Of all the emotions in the world, you never thought that you’d feel hopeful about the thought of Wonwoo coming back, and yet you smiled softly into the receiver.

“I’ll look forward to seeing you then, Wonwoo. Let’s try this all over again.”

=====

Chan called the next day sputtering out an apology about the picture and saying that he took it down despite you insisting that those measures weren’t necessary. What’s been done has been done. You weren’t really sure how the news got to him, but you suspected that Wonwoo must’ve shot him a message earlier. About what exactly? You didn’t know.

It took some time for you to calm the poor boy down, though you ended up having to agree to his persistent plans on buying you something to make up for his mistake.

You settled for a modest cup of coffee — he was still trying to get through school after all, and you didn’t want him to spend his money on something so futile. As a last-minute decision, you also invited Seungkwan to join in on the meeting after you told him about the phone call. 

When you arrived with Chan in tow, he was already sitting there, arms crossed, steaming like the cup of white hot chocolate sitting in front of him. For some reason, during the call he had sounded angrier about the situation than you were, and you shared a wary glance with Chan when you realized that his mood hadn’t changed. He greeted the two of you dismissively as if he didn’t really want to be there.

You pushed it aside at first and spent some time talking about random topics and catching up with each other in an attempt to lighten up the mood. Then you relayed to them the exact details of the call and when you noticed that Seungkwan still hadn’t smiled at all that day, you bit your lip and took in his disheveled appearance.

“Seungkwan… Is everything alright? You seem kind of mad about something.” You tentatively asked.

“That’s because I am kind of mad.” He replied

You didn’t know what you were expecting, but that was not the answer you were hoping for.

“What are you so mad about?” Chan pressed further.

“What am I mad about?” He huffed and took a sip of his drink before continuing. “Everything! This whole situation is just wrong.”

You cocked your head at his words. “Wrong?” You echoed, a little lost.

He dropped his hands to the table in exasperation. “Yes, wrong! I understand that he wasn’t ready for love. That, I totally understand and respect him for, but the whole ‘leaving you to move across the world without even considering your feelings or asking how you felt about it’ just pisses me off in so many ways.” His hand waved around to accentuate his points and continued.

“Y/n, you’re an unbelievably kind person so you probably didn’t even notice, but as a bystander watching this whole situation play out, I just can’t help but feel that Wonwoo is just doing you so wrong. You don’t deserve to suffer like this. I don’t think he deserves another chance so easily.” 

“I’m fine though, really…” You reached out in an attempt to hold his hand and calm him down, but he edged away from you instead.

“You’re not fine though! Don’t lie straight to my face and say that you were fine when he left you at the airport, crying, or when you ignored our messages for a week because you were ‘trying to get over the heartbreak’. I don’t understand how you’re still willing to give him a chance after everything he’s done to you.” He shot back, voice thick with spite.

“Dude you need to chill out. Wonwoo didn’t really do anything wrong, he had no idea they were soulmates.” Chan interjected, voice firm as he stared at his friend in disappointment. Neither of you could believe that Seungkwan, sweet, lovely Seungkwan, was the same man standing in front of you. Sure he had his petty moments, but he’s never lashed out at a friend like this before — his sassiness was all supposed to be saved for jokes.

Said person scoffed at Chan’s words and then turned to look at you.

“All I’m saying is that he doesn’t deserve you! Is it wrong for me to say that?” He defended and stood up from his seat. The chair was pushed back with a noisy screech that made you wince.

In the midst of his wild gestures, he’d accidentally knocked over his cup, spilling some of the leftover contents onto the table. The people sitting at neighbouring tables cast curious glances your way and you frantically gestured for Chan to grab some tissues as you started to clean the mess with the ones you already had.

“Seungkwan please calm down, I’m alright now, seriously.” You tried and looked up at your friend who was still standing, angrily watching you clean up the drink as if it offended him.

“I’m leaving.” That was all he said. It came out quiet, barely a whisper, but you heard it, and you could do nothing but watch him grab his jacket and stride straight out the door, bringing a draft of the cold air into the shop.

Being left to deal with the commotion he created, you and Chan gave a small apology to the people in the shop and tried to ignore the awkward stares and mumbling directed towards you. If only people could mind their own business, the world would’ve been so much better. 

Taking a deep breath as you tossed out the soiled napkin, you tried to calm yourself down. You reasoned that getting yourself worked up about his attitude would only make things worse and decided to leave the shop as well, after Chan suggested you go to the comfort of his house to talk it out instead.

You didn’t know what riled Seungkwan up so much that day. 

=====

“The mall?” You got another impromptu call the following weekend when you were gently washing what was left of your mark. Rumours had it that if you took care of a mark well enough, it’ll flourish. Especially if you use bath salts, they said. The lavender ones. 

Maybe it was silly to believe so, but when the petals started fading away daily, you grew desperate, and you were desperate enough to believe anything that was told to you. Either way, a little self-care didn’t really hurt, right?

“Yeah, I just thought that you know, two friends, we haven’t seen each other for a while… hanging out at the mall sounds nice doesn’t it?” The voice on the other end chirped back.

“Jeonghan, I literally saw you yesterday.”

“So you’re saying no?” You could imagine him childishly pouting right about now and you sighed, shaking your head.

“I’m not declining the invite, but there’s something else going on isn’t there?”

He let out an awkward laugh at your skepticism. “I just wanna see my friend, is it too much to ask for?”

You let out another sigh. “When were you planning on meeting up?”

“How about now? I’m right at your door.”

And sure enough, Yoon Jeonghan was standing right outside your door, all dressed and ready to take you to the mall on a Saturday morning.

=====

You couldn’t place a finger on what made the meeting so suspicious. Jeonghan acted normal the entire time, even offering to buy you a snack when he noticed you eyeing the tempting display. But he didn’t hint at anything he needed to say, and you began to wonder if he really did just want to see you. The man could be a little ambiguous at times.

He did end up having something to talk about. On the bright side, at least your suspicions were correct. On the… not so bright side, that probably meant there was some bad news to share, and you weren’t so sure how much more you could take before you combusted.

You realized his true intentions behind the meetup when he grabbed your hand and led you to one of the benches nearby, nudging you to take a seat as he joined you. He didn’t hesitate to get to the point.

“I heard about what happened the other day.” He had entered therapist Yoon mode.

“What happened?” You played it dumb — you’ve been a fool your entire life, falling for Wonwoo and not doing anything about it, so acting a little oblivious wasn’t too farfetched from your character.

“With Seungkwan, about the little incident.” He spoke to you in a hushed tone, as if there was someone to hide from, but all around you were people milling about, minding their own business. No one was really going to care about what he said to you, nor were they even going to listen in the first place. That idea didn’t seem to occur to him though.

“Oh, that.” There was nothing else to say, and you just nodded your head at his words.

You began to jokingly wonder if there was a secret group chat about you behind your back, and that that was how all these messages were being passed around because you sure as hell didn’t tell anyone about it.

(There was)

“You know… Seungkwan…” He trailed off for a moment and absentmindedly tugged at the hem of your shirt to smoothen out the wrinkles. He was buying time, but there was only so much he had to spend. Taking a deep breath, his hand stopped fussing over you.

“He likes you, yeah?” 

You blanched. “He whats?”

Jeonghan stared straight into your eyes and repeated what he said. “Seungkwan. He likes you. He’s liked you for a while now.”

“I,” You faltered as you searched for ways to respond to that; nothing came to mind. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to say to that.” You admitted. You didn’t know why your body was defaulting to cry at the news, but it did, just like when you said goodbye to Wonwoo, and Jeonghan soothingly stroked your head in an attempt to calm you down.

“Hey, it’s alright, I’m sorry to tell you so suddenly, and I’m sorry that it’s not him who’s telling you, but honestly, I don’t think he ever would, and you wouldn’t have ever gotten a proper explanation for his actions.”  He comfortingly laced his fingers into yours. “Take some deep breaths first — can I continue?”

“Go ahead.” You whispered as you followed his instructions and inhaled deeply. The faint smell of pretzels from a nearby shop entered your mind and in its own way, grounded you as your mind tried to catch up with everything that was going on.

Seungkwan… likes you? Boo Seungkwan, one of your closest friends, your confidant when you learned about Wonwoo’s mark, had liked you this entire time?

“You know things didn’t go so well with him and his soulmate.” It was hardly an explanation, but it was all Jeonghan offered. If anything, it made you feel guilty. What if you were the reason why they didn’t love each other happily? Seungkwan hadn’t told you the details of what happened, all you knew was that someone came in the way, that they just didn’t feel like they were actually soulmates.

And perhaps, you were that certain someone. Now it made sense why he didn’t tell you anything.

Thinking about it now, you felt so bad for pining for someone who didn’t love you back — or at least someone who didn’t love you back then — while someone else close to you had been loving you without you even knowing. It hurt. It hurt to suddenly learn all of this when it was too late. But what would you do if you were to learn about it when Wonwoo hadn’t left yet? When Seungkwan had just met his soulmate? 

You didn’t have answers, but it explained why Seungkwan got so mad when he heard that Wonwoo decided to give you a chance. It makes sense that he would’ve felt cheated off of. 

You probably would’ve felt the same way.

“So,” Jeonghan hesitated and drummed his fingers on the bench before continuing. “The question now, it’s been four years… do you still love Wonwoo?”

The years prior to his departure were dedicated to pushing your feelings aside, and the past four years had been dedicated to finally picking up the dustpan and throwing them in the trash. But now, the emotions came piling on you once again and you were drowning in it.

“Yeah, I still do.”

=====

Jeonghan had advised that you didn’t let Seungkwan’s feelings get in the way of your potential relationship with Wonwoo. The latter was supposed to come home by the end of this week, and now it felt like there was a time bomb ticking away. Any hour not spent in preparation for his arrival felt wasted. You argued Jeonghan’s statement, saying that it was rude of you to pretend like Seungkwan didn’t exist, that to not acknowledge his feelings was essentially the same as saying he didn’t matter.

But then he said that he needed to let go of those feelings and learn to give his soulmate a chance. Apparently, she was willing to love him, but he was still blinded by his love for you. It’s kind of funny how you were in the exact same situation, except with Wonwoo instead.

Maybe you were all fools.

You listened to Jeonghan and gave Seungkwan the space he needed, only sending him a small message that he has yet to reply to. Your time was instead spent on preparing yourself for Wonwoo’s arrival, which came much too quickly for your own good.

=====

Standing there anxiously at the airport your ears perked when you heard the announcements above your head state the arrival of his flight. That’s when it really hit you that you were actually going to see him again.

You were going to see Jeon Wonwoo again.

You were going to see your soulmate, your soulmate who has finally acknowledged you.

Before you knew it, he was there, standing right in front of you.

In all honesty, he didn’t change much in appearance. He was still the soft boy you remembered him to be, with sweater paws covering the hands that carried the bags trailing behind him and round glasses perched on his face.

His small, polite smile was still the same too.

“Hello, y/n.”

Instead of returning the greeting, you found yourself rushing into his embrace, hugging him tightly as if he was going to disappear again.

“I’ve missed you more than I’d like to admit, stupid.” You muttered into his body and you felt him chuckle at that. Pulling apart, you looked at him in the eyes to make sure that it was actually him holding you. “Welcome back.” You smiled.

“Well, I don’t plan on leaving again anytime soon, so we can have more time together then. That is, unless you get sick of me and shoo me away.” He joked lightly and ruffled your hair.

“Me? Shooing my soulmate away?” You replied dramatically, before clearing your throat and getting serious again. “Any time spent with you — romantic or not— is valuable to me, and I don’t plan on ever getting tired of you.”

The hand resting on your head made its way to your side and he timidly took your hand into his, studying your face to make sure he had permission. It was a little awkward, a little clunky, but you thought his hand fit perfectly into yours and you smiled, leaning into him a little bit. As you made your way out of the airport, you glanced down at your hands intertwined with each other and noticed the familiar navy blue beads on his wrist.

“You’re still wearing the bracelet I gave you.” You pointed out.

“This?” He brought his hand up to inspect it. “Of course I still wear it, it’s a gift from you—”

You halted your steps when he suddenly stopped speaking.

“Hm? What is it?”

Still staring at his wrist, his mouth quirked into a small smile and he chuckled.

“Huh, funny.”

You strained your neck in an attempt to see what he was looking at. “What? What is it?” You asked again.

“There’s a little flower on my wrist now.” He replied softly, tilting his arm for you to see, and sure enough, in the midst of the faded flowers by his moon, was a bright blue forget-me-not.

=====

The next morning when you woke up, there was a little flower on your ankle, next to the crescent moon. Though the mark wasn’t the same flowery sky it used to be, the little flower was a start.

And maybe one day, those flowers will flourish along with your love for each other.

=====

epilogue: kairosclerosis

[queerbutstillhere]

Operation Chick Liberation

"Oh my God. Dick, you're not gonna believe this."

Dick sighed  and looked up from his phone. The news had been playing on mute on the tv while both he and Jason were busy doing other things and not really paying attention. But now Jason unmuted it, and Dick could hear the report. Did he believe it? No, not one bit, but he could definitely hear it.

"...Robin and Red Robin have been seen making off with boxes of chicks from a local pet store, more after the break."

.....

"Dick is going to kill us."

"Hush, Drake. This will be better for them."

"Why are we stealing chicks again, Damian?"

Robin looked up at his brother, the white lenses of his mask hiding the mischief in his eyes. His small smirk, however, gave him away all too quickly.

"Because if we don’t liberate them, who will?"

Tim snorted, then smiled as he shook his head. "You know what? Hell yeah, let's steal some chickens."

So, they executed their meticulously thought out plan. Sneaked in through a skylight, found the chick boxes, picked the lock to the cage and carefully packed up several of the boxes with as many chicks as Damian deemed appropriate. 

Usually Tim didn't encourage petty theft, but Damian had come directly to him with a rather clever plan for chick liberation and Tim couldn't help but say yes. Partially because he just wanted to see how this went, and partially because the little puppy dog look that Damian had given him had been enough to make him crumple. 

For as much as they fought, Tim still loves the little gremlin. 

Getting the chicks back out was a lot harder than getting in had been. Damian was very adamant that they couldn't jostle the poor chicks in any way, so it was a very slow process of hugging a box of chicks with one arm while slowly grappling back up through the skylight. Slowly, they managed to get all the boxes up, replace the skylight, and then they began slowly transporting the boxes back to their bikes.

"I can't believe we just stole three dozen chicks."

"Believe it," Damian said with a little giggle, grinning brightly at Tim.

He looked happy, and that alone was worth it.

Carefully, they secured the chicks to the back of their bikes, and took off towards home. Part two of Damian's brilliant plan was to sneak the chicks onto the manor grounds. Tim wasn't exactly sure where Damian was planning to put them after they got the chicks home, but the manor certainly had enough property for a chicken pen. They just didn't have one, so he was curious what the plan here was.

They got home, and then the operation became, "Sneak The Chicks Past Bruce," which was not easy, due to their constant cheeping. They covered the boxes with their capes and very quickly darted from where they parked their bikes over to the lift. Tim heard Bruce call to them, asking what they had, but they didn't stop. Inside the lift, they looked at each other, serious for a moment, before breaking into laughter.

"Where the hell are we putting these?!"

"Well, I had considered Todd's room—" Damian started.

"Oh no..."

"—but I decided that would not be best for their own safety. I have created a pen for them in the BatBarn."

"Oh my God, you really thought this through?"

"Tt, I'm not a fool, Drake." He's still grinning, so Tim knew he was still in a good mood, but they ran into a problem when they got upstairs.

The “problem” being Dick and Jason.

They were waiting at the back door, arms crossed, looking like they were fighting smiles.

"What are you two doing?" Jason asked.

"Taking trash out," Tim volunteered, gesturing at the box.

Soft cheeping betrayed his lie immediately.

"And why didn't you change before coming up?" Dick asked, failing to hide his smile.

"We wanted to go back out later," was Damian's response.

More soft cheeping. Rattling in the boxes. A little beak peaked out of one of the air holes. All three of them looked at it. Tim and Damian slowly looked at each other, then up at Dick and Jason.

"I can't believe you guys stole chickens," Jason finally cracked, starting to laugh.

"We were saving them from an unfortunate life!" Damian protested, immediately looking distressed.

"Damian, you could have just bought them! You remember who your dad is, right?" Dick's also started laughing now.

He reaches out and opens the lid of Tim's box, still chuckling.

"They are pretty cute."

"Come on, let's get them outside before Alfred finds out."

Damian led the way proudly, carrying his boxes of chicks. They walked out to the barn, which, yes, they do call the BatBarn. Batcow greeted them from her pasture with a deep moo, and Damian called back to her in arabic, something soft and sweet.

Inside the barn, the second stall had in fact been converted to a chicken pen, complete with a heat lamp, water bowl, and feed trough filled with chick feed. It was clear how much time Damian spent at the Kents’. Tim and Damian knelt down in the sawdust and carefully removed the chicks from their boxes, setting them in the soft, fluffy shavings. They ran around, cheeping in confusion for a bit, investigating everything, and eating the shavings.

Damian sat down against the wall. He pulled off his mask and gloves then reached out, picking up a soft, fluffy little brown mottled ball. Tim couldn't help but grin at his little brother. The kid looked so happy, surrounded by all these fluffy, mixed breed chicks. The only type of chicks the two of them liked-

Tim glanced up to find that Dick and Jason had disappeared. He shrugged and moved over, sitting next to Damian after shooing some chicks out of the way. He picked one up and gently cupped it in his hands.

"They are pretty cute."

Damian hummed, glancing up at him. 

"Do you think Alfred will let them stay?"

"As long as you let him use their eggs, probably."

Damian tilted his head, thinking.

"I think an arrangement can be made," he hummed, then focused back on the chicks.

They stayed out there for a long time. When the chicks finally started getting too annoyed with them, Damian stood and started fiddling with the heat lamp.

"Come along, Drake. We should let them sleep," he said, turning to Tim.

"Yes, of course."

Tim stood and dusted himself off before following Damian out. They walked up to the house in silence. It wasn't until they had reached the back door that Damian spoke.

"Timothy?"

"Yeah, Damian?"

"Thank you."

"Any time, squirt."

"Tt."

Tim stood by the door, watching Damian walk towards the office that would lead him into the batcave. And he just grinned to himself. Today he stole chickens, and bonded with his little brother.

It was a good day.

For @absolute-0zero !!!! Brothers bonding over chickens! Thank you to @wisdom-walks-alone and @battoad for betaing this cute thing for me! Find it here on ao3!

[slippinmickeys]

Five Seconds (7/8)

If you’d like to read on AO3, you may do so here. 

October 23, 2018

Scully was in labor. At least, she thought she might be. She hadn’t been sure, but in the last hour she was now more certain, though her contractions were eons apart. The timing was obviously less than ideal. She was two weeks short of her due date, and when they had pulled off the state highway to the road that led to the cabin, she began hoping for a miracle -- what kind of miracle, she wasn't sure -- that the cabin was spacious and clean and up to date with a fully staffed Labor and Delivery wing? That someone would come and whisk them away to safety? She worried about preeclampsia, prolonged labor. She worried she might need a C-section. She worried she wouldn’t be able to do it.

In Virginia, the mid-morning sun would light up their bedroom like a hot set, dust motes floating through the spotlight of the shine and even the greys that now peppered Mulder’s temples would be lost in the chocolate ganache luster of his hair as he laid in their bed. That was where she wanted to be, laboring to bring this new child into the world -- in the bright, soft light of their bedroom, with Mulder kneading the labor pain out of her back as she kneeled on all fours in the rumple of their king-sized bed. Not here. Not amongst the pines and the cawing of crows. Not in a little bed in a musty-smelling shack with the pictures of people on the wall that were unfamiliar and long dead. This wasn’t right. This wasn’t how it was supposed to happen at all.

William was again fiddling with his improvised hockey stick; he always fiddled with something when he was anxious, a nervous tick picked up when he was little. She remembered him crawling into bed with them when he was five, a thunderstorm outside or a bad dream. He would tuck himself into Scully's side, and she'd tilt her head until her cheek rested against the hard round of his skull, breathing in the inky smell of his wiry hair, his compact little body tight against her. He had Mulder's long, elegant feet and piano playing fingers, and he would play with the buttons on her pajamas and suck his thumb and rub his face into Moo, the stuffed cow, the fur of which was worn and well-loved and smelled like his sleepy breath. How she'd longed for those days as the kids had gotten older. How she worried for this new little one coming into this particular world.

Evening was falling outside, the long light through the pines running shadows through the small windows of the cabin.

"Will, can you throw another log in the stove?" she asked. The cabin was cooling quickly and Mulder and Lily would be back at any time and probably chilled right through.

"Sure, Mom," said Will, setting down his stick and moving to the potbellied stove, slipping on the worn and singed oven mitt that one needed to wear to grab the handle to open the small door. He threw in a couple pieces of wood until the flame began to roar, licking up the black sides of the feed chamber. He closed it and gave her a smile, looking at her kindly. "Are you okay, Mom?"

She could feel what she took to be a contraction coming on slowly; they were still pretty far apart and not yet at the stage where she would disappear inside of herself to get through the pain.

"I'm-"

The door to the cabin opened then, and Mulder and Lily stumbled in, rubbing their hands together and griping about the cold.

Mulder came over to her and kissed her forehead gently, his lips cool from being outside. He smelled of fresh air and woodsmoke and rubbed his hands up and down her arms once.

"How'd it go?" she asked, ignoring the growing pressure on her womb.

"Okay," Mulder gave her a clipped smile. "I got in touch with the guys, but the connection was terrible. Looks like Darlene will be okay. Otherwise, not much information was relayed one way or the other. We'll try again tomorrow."

She nodded at him. By tomorrow they would likely need to request some kind of medical help. Not sure who they could contact or who they could trust, she tried her best not to despair. She thought of her first labor, with Lily, how Mulder had stayed up with her all night. The drive to the hospital in the dark hours -- the forgotten sandwich on their dashboard, his face and how it looked each time a streetlight flashed upon it.

William's labor had been long and scary -- full of complications and made worse by the fact that Mulder wasn't with her. But she remembered when they placed the baby on her chest, the warm little bundle of him so much heavier than he looked. She remembered how his skin was still purple and mottled. She remembered his serious little eyes and his sweet grasping hand, the damp curled wisp of his marigold hair.

She had gotten through that. She could get through this. With Mulder beside her, sometimes she felt as if she could do anything.

"I'm going to heat up some water," Mulder said, and she could hear him trying to infuse his voice with optimism, "make some soup."

She smiled at him. Nodded. She knew she should eat something and try to get some rest. There was still time, she told herself, there was still time.

XxX

She had actually fallen asleep. After eating a bit of the soup, she'd lain down and closed her eyes and when she opened them, she was met with nearly absolute darkness. Only the glow from the small window of the feeder door on the stove issued forth any light, but it was paltry and she could still barely see her hand in front of her face.

She was alone in the small bed and could hear the heavy breathing of Mulder and their children from the bunk room. He must have decided to leave her be when she'd fallen asleep, and she was grateful. The tightening pain around her middle had awoken her and it squeezed until she gasped. It took her by such surprise that she almost didn't hear the scraping at the door of the cabin, the thump that followed.

She looked up just as the door to the cabin burst inward and she was blinded by a flash of light. She heard the action of a pistol cocking back.

“Do not move,” said an accented voice laced with venom.

XxXxXxXxXxX

Lily didn’t know what was happening.

She awoke in darkness and chaos -- to the scraping of furniture in the beam of a flashlight, her father's harsh swearing and the smell of apocrine sweat.

"Dad?!" called Will, and Lily heard the harsh sound of a blow to a body followed by a grunt. More scraping, the sound of a struggle and then a gunshot rang out. Lily jumped so high, she found herself standing.

“Mulder!” her mother cried.

“Everyone okay?!” from their father.

"Shut UP," hissed a voice thick with accent, and everything stopped. The beam of light finally stopped swaying and fell on her father, who was wincing and touching a hand to his lip, which he pulled away to look at -- the crimson smear of blood like neon in the light.

The generator hummed on the other side of the wall, the only sound in the silence that followed. And then Lily heard a scrape and the overhead light was switched on, blinding her momentarily. When she pried her eyes open again, she took everything in; a grizzled man with a long nose and close-set eyes stood in the open doorway of the cabin, his cheek red and swollen, pointing a gun at her father, her mother just behind him, sitting on the cot near the stove. Her brother was standing just beside where she stood in the bunk room, his eyes wide in shock.

The gunman turned to look in her direction, then nodded his head at her parents.

"Both of you," he said, "in here, now."

She and Will, both a bit dazed, made their way silently to their parents, where their father reached an arm out and pushed them behind himself.

“You guys okay?” he whispered.

"Weapons," the gunman said. Their parents traded a look, and Mulder moved the few steps to the kitchen, where Scully's Sig was sitting on the kitchen counter. The gunman took a step closer to them all and aimed his gun directly at Will, who inhaled sharply.

"Easy," her father said, and ejected the clip from Scully's gun and handed them both to the man, who examined the pistol closely before shoving the gun and clip into a pocket in the back of his pants.

"Where's the other one?" the man asked.

"Left it downstate," Mulder said, raising both hands. "That's all we have."

“Lift up your shirt,” the man said, and Mulder did as he asked, turning around to show he wasn’t armed.

The man narrowed his eyes and then looked about the room, his gaze coming to rest on the rifle that was perched on the deer rack on the far wall.

"Get that down," the man said, "bring it over here."

Mulder, moving slowly, carefully and purposefully pulled one of the old chairs from the small dining table over to the deer head and attempted to lift the rifle from where it rested. It wouldn't move. He pulled harder.

"It's wired on," he said, "it won't budge."

The gunman took a moment and moved his jaw around, assessing.

"Then leave it," he finally said, "that thing hasn't fired in twenty years."

Mulder stepped down off the chair and moved back, putting himself, once again, between his family and the gunman, who glanced at his watch. Then, keeping his eyes on the Mulder family, reached into his pocket and pulled out a phone. He fiddled with it for a moment and then swore.

Her father, in his most soothing voice, said, "There's no signal here."

The man shoved the phone back in his pocket. "Doesn't matter," he said, checking his watch again. Then, he pointed the barrel of the gun briefly at the dining table. "You three, sit there."

Mulder didn't move, and Lily and her brother both looked to him. Lily didn't want to do anything without his okay, and the moment was tense as a piano string.

"Mulder," her mother finally said shakily. Her father looked to his wife and she looked back. Finally, Mulder moved to sit at the dining table, and Will and Lily followed, gingerly sitting down.

The gunman took a step toward Scully and Lily felt her father tense next to her.

"So," the man said, pointing at her pregnant belly, "the miracle child." He pronounced it like meericle . "You have been a hard woman to find."

Scully said nothing.

"What's your name?" Mulder asked from the table, drawing the gunman's attention.

The man stood for a moment, his eyes blank. Finally, he said, "Luis."

“Luis, what are your intentions for my family?”

The man looked at him. “For now, nothing. For now, we wait.”

XxXxXxXxXxX

The wind picked up as the day wore on, rattling the windows and pushing at the outside of the cabin in a dull roar. She had not had a contraction for an hour, and the last few had been dull. Perhaps it was Braxton Hicks after all.

She thought how fitting it was to be at a hunting camp when, for the last nine months, she’d felt like prey. Every day the fear would work at her, wending its way through her veins like ichor.

The man who held them, Luis, didn’t talk much. He sat by the door, silent and grave, with one hand wrapped around the handle of his Glock. He would check his watch occasionally and scowl. Every now and then he would pace. Eventually he let the kids go into the bunk room, obviously not thinking them much of a threat. He was waiting for backup of some sort, and the only thing Scully thought was at least it was buying them time. Time for what, she wasn’t sure.

Scully looked at her children through the room’s doorway, sitting next to each other on a bunk and was reminded of the old adage: “to have a child is to give fate a hostage.”

"Luis, do you have children?" Scully asked the man before her, her voice like a bell peeling through the silence of the cabin. She could tell she had surprised him. He looked at her for a long moment but did not answer. He looked away.

She thought perhaps if she connected with him he might be reasoned with, but he was cold, his mood foul.

Scully reached for Mulder’s hand and held on tight.

XxXxXxXxXxX

The intense heat coming off the wood burning stove in the main area of the cabin did little to heat the bunk room. Lily and William sat together on one of the lower bunks, taking solace in both proximity and shared warmth.

The man, Luis, stood in the center of the room. His nose was bleeding less now, but his face was swollen and red, and he seemed to get angrier with every passing minute.

Their mother was standing, leaning against the back of one of the kitchen chairs. She looked miserable. Their father was sitting in one of the other kitchen chairs, eyes swinging perpetually back and forth between the gunman and his wife. He was as tense as a coiled spring, and Lily worried he would make a move that would get him shot. Luis still had the gun trained on him.

In the tumult of the attack at Darlene's house and their ensuing escape north, Lily had forgotten about the cell phone that Darlene had given her. When she found it later, she left it off and shoved it deep into her go-bag.

“I have a phone in my backpack,” Lily finally said to her brother in a whisper.

He turned his head sharply to look at her.

“What?” he kept his voice low, “I thought Dad left them all out in the car.”

Lily’s eyes remained on the mercenary and her parents, but none of them turned toward where the kids sat in the bunk room. Lily suspected that they couldn’t hear them over the roaring, crackling fire in the stove and the wind pushing at the cabin from outside.

“He did,” she said, “I have another. Darlene gave it to me.”

“You have a burner?” Will said earnestly, his eyes round and his look impressed.

Will’s eyes suddenly took on disappointment.

“There’s no way we’re getting a signal. Dad had to go all the way out to the road and even then he said service was shoddy.”

“So we go to the road,” Lily said, shooting looks into the other room.

“How?” Will hissed, his nerves finally catching up to him. “Just stroll past the pissed off merc with a gun?”

Lily shook her head and pointed toward the far corner of the bunk room, to where a few bits of leaves had blown in from outside.

“We wait until Mom has to pee again and then we go through the wall,” she whispered. The man had been letting their heavily pregnant mother use the outhouse, but he always took their father with them and held the gun on him outside while she used the facilities. He padlocked the kids in the cabin when he did so. Lily could see the fading autumn light coming through a crack in the far corner. The wall was weak with age and weather.

“You have some Hulk powers I don’t know about?” Will said.

“Look Will, the sun is shining through it. I’m betting money the wood is totally rotted out,” she said, “we move two boards and we could both fit through there.”

Will looked skeptical.

“I don’t want to leave Mom,” he said.

Lily reached over and squeezed his hand.

“Listen,” she said, “if we take ourselves out of the equation, Dad has a much better chance of protecting her. If he doesn’t have to worry about us, maybe he can do something.”

Will bit his lip, thinking.

“You think?” he said.

“Yes,” Lily hissed, sensing him coming around to her way of thinking. “Go put on another sweatshirt and whatever else you have in your bag. We can hike out to the road and get a signal. Call for help. But it’s going to be cold.”

The cold was already pushing at them from the outside walls of the bunk room.

She slipped off the bed and over to her bag, quietly pulling out the winter hat that she’d had wrapped around the phone. It was a cheap little Nokia -- old and barely capable of texting -- but Darlene had given it to her for a reason. Hopefully it had held a charge well; she’d kept it switched off. She wouldn’t turn it on until they were out by the road. She hoped like hell the archaic little thing could pick up a signal.

She threw on another sweatshirt and the knit hat and once again glanced at the door to the main room. The man Luis kept glancing at his watch. He didn’t seem the least bit interested or worried about the two teenagers in the bunk room -- Lily hoped he would continue to underestimate them.

She glanced over at her brother who was pulling on a fleece jacket and shoving a pair of wool socks into his pockets, and then moved surreptitiously to the far side of the room, pushing experimentally at the wooden wall of the cabin where the crack of weak sun shone through. It gave, easily.

She nodded at her brother. They could do this. They just needed to wait for the right opportunity, which came about twenty minutes later when Lily heard the low words of her mother asking to once again use the restroom.

Once they heard the click of the padlock on the front door, she dropped to her knees and pushed on the wall in earnest, the old construction tack paper disintegrating in her hands. The outhouse was on the opposite side of the cabin -- they had to be fast. The boards on the outside of the cabin were so rotted and moist that she met little resistance when she pushed again, and a small part of the board popped off with barely a sound and thunked to the leaves outside. If they were careful, they could get out without anyone noticing they were gone until they were well away and into the surrounding woods. Will dropped to his knees next to her, eying the small hole in the wall.

“Whoa,” he said.

“Help me,” Lily whispered, and she began pushing at the boards with more desperation.

Will grabbed the edge of the hole and started pulling it in, and after a moment it snapped off with a crack which sent him sprawling backwards onto his butt, a piece of the board still in his hands. Wind started coming in through the hole, blowing in leaves and other debris.

Lily looked to the doorway of the bunk room, ears tuned to listen for the scrape of the padlock on the cabin’s door. The hole in front of them was probably about two feet by one foot. One more chunk of board coming off and they could probably scramble through. They pried at the next piece in earnest, but it was drier and much stronger than the first piece had been. Her heart was hammering in her chest --  they were running out of time.

“Here,” she said, shoving the cell phone into Will’s hands, “take this. You’re smaller than me. If I can get one more piece off, get through the hole and run like hell.”

“Lil-” he said, leaning back as though he were about to argue with her.

“Do it,” she hissed at him, once again looking to the doorway, “I’ll be right behind you.” She heard a thump from the cabin’s door.

William shoved the phone into his jeans pocket and looked at her, his face pale. Lily reached out and squeezed his shoulder.

“For Mom,” she said, and he nodded.

She assessed the board in front of her and pushed hard with her legs. It cracked under the pressure, the sound of each splintering seeming to ring out like a gunshot. Will glanced nervously at the door, and she reared back and gave the board one more sharp kick, sending it flying outside with a loud clatter.

She heard a sound of alarm from the main room as the cabin door burst in and Will dove easily through the hole, shimmying outside quickly. She heard the clumping of boots coming toward the room, and dove headfirst through the hole, the sharp edges of the remaining boards catching on her sweatshirt and holding her fast. Her hands clawed into the mulchy substrate of the forest floor, giving her nothing to push or pull against.

A shout rang out behind her, followed by two gunshots. She kicked out with her feet, the boards scraping her lower back raw and then she was through and free. She scrambled up from hands and knees and took off in the direction of the county road, running as fast as she could -- the wind whipping fiercely at her face, the skin of her back on fire.

XxXxXxXxXxX

“Fuck!” Luis hissed, stumbling back into the room, smoke from the nose of the gun still leaking out of it.

Mulder’s gut was still in his shoes, blood thrumming in his ears, bowel-loosening fear for his kids running roughshod through his heart.

Scully’s eyes were wide with terror as she looked between Luis and Mulder, her mouth open in a round O.

“Your fucking kids are gone,” Luis said, his accent getting thicker with the force of his fury. He was bouncing the Glock angrily against the side of his leg.

Mulder felt a wild rush of relief and had to stop himself from outright grinning.

“Good luck to them,” Luis then said after a moment, his voice returning to the oily slickness of a man used to getting what he wanted. “They’ll probably freeze to death or get mauled by a bear. I still have what I need.”

At that he looked to Scully and smiled smugly, and Mulder’s relief turned back to worry.

The mercenary appeared to be waiting for something or someone, most likely transportation to whisk Scully off to God knows where to do God knows what with her and the baby. Mulder thanked whatever entity was responsible for getting his other kids out of harm’s way. He now only had Scully and the baby to worry about -- he was more than confident that Lily and Will could take care of themselves, so long as they stayed out of the way of whoever was coming to assist Luis.

XxXxXxXxXxX

Lily tore through the forest, expecting at any moment to hear more gunshots or the sound of the mercenary pursuing them, but she heard nothing but the sound of her feet churning through the duff and her own breath and heartbeat, pounding in her ears. She avoided the overgrown path that led to the cabin, instead running through the forest alongside it. When she felt she could run no more, she slowed and stopped, leaning her hands on her knees to catch her breath. She had not run since completing varsity cross country the fall before, and her lungs burned from the effort. Will, who had been consistently playing hockey or some variation thereof pretty much since he turned 10, was hopefully far ahead of her.

Keeping the path to her left, she knew she was headed toward the road, though the daylight was waning. There would be no one on the seasonal road that hit the path from the cabin -- they would have to hike all the way out to the county road -- and even then she worried that there might not be a car for hours -- even days -- it was as remote a place as she had ever been.

The skin of her back had begun to hurt less, though it occasionally stung when brushed with the tee shirt she wore under her baggy sweatshirt. Her mouth was dry and she had a headache from the adrenaline surge -- and, she suspected -- dehydration.

Eventually she passed the CR-V off to her left through the trees, parked where they had left it in the middle of the forest, inert and dark, a membrane of dirt and leaf detritus built up on its wiper blades.

The forest around her seemed a darker shade of brown, as if she were in a horror movie and the director had swapped out a gel to give everything a more sinister feel. Tree branches creaked as wind blew through the upper branches and the only other sound was the hollow rat-a-tat of a woodpecker doing its duty somewhere far away. Lily pulled the loose sweatshirt tighter around herself and trudged on with her head down.

She heard a branch or twig snap from ahead of her and froze, eyes and ears attuned to any sign of movement. Another broken twig and then she heard the whisper-shout "Lily!"

"Will!" she called out, trying not to do it too loudly.

Then it was all crashing twigs and shuffling leaves and her brother broke through a line of bracken to her right and practically tackled her with a hug.

"Oh my God, Lily," he said, breathing hard, "I didn't think we were going to make it."

She pushed him away from her so she could catch his eye and said, "I did. I knew we'd make it. We've got more to do, though, come on."

With that they kept trudging through the woods in silence, until finally they spilled out onto the seasonal road that was really no bigger than a two track.

"Give me the phone," she said, turning to her brother.

He reached down into his pocket and pulled it out.

"I haven't been able to get a signal yet. I've been trying."

Lily looked down at the display. The old Nokia screen read "No Service" and showed barely half a battery's worth of charge.

"Okay," she said, "I'm turning it off. We need to save the battery until we get to the main road." She pushed the phone into the kangaroo pouch on the front of her sweatshirt -- it was a Michigan State hoodie that she'd borrowed from Travis. If she stuck her nose into the collar and huffed, it still smelled like him.

She took a deep breath and tried to center herself. "Come on," she said after a moment, "let's go."

XxX

Darkness had fallen by the time they hit the pavement of the county road. The moon was half full and the little light that it provided turned the shadows menacing, each dark space a void of whispered threat. The temperature had dropped with the sun, and they could see their breath in front of themselves, standing on the side of the road. Will's shoulders were hunched and he had his hands crammed deep into his pockets for warmth. He'd been sweating when she found him, which was now coming back to bite him.

Lily was holding the phone up above her head, walking up and down the pavement, trying to get a signal.

"Anything?" Will said hopefully.

"No," she sighed, dropping her arm. She once again flicked off the power button and pocketed the phone. They were now down to about a quarter's worth of battery power.

She reached back to flip the hood over her head and pulled the strings tight. Will appeared to shiver, once.

"We should probably hunker down. Close to the road, in case a car comes," she said. Her brother nodded his head miserably.

The embankment next to the road wasn't deep, but it was wet, so they had to hop across it. Lily slid down the trunk of the first big tree they came to and Will sat next to her, leaning into her side for warmth. She put her arm around her brother and squeezed his shoulder.

"My sweatshirt is pretty big if you want to try to share it," she said kindly.

"You mean like our Get Along Shirt?" he chuckled.

Their father had once, when they were much smaller and fighting almost constantly, taken one of his old grey tee shirts and put both kids inside of it side-by-side, each with an arm out one hole. They'd had to wear it for twenty minutes, and while they had stopped physically fighting (it had been admittedly difficult to do so with only one free hand), they had instead complained so loudly and vociferously (the teamwork their father had been ironically pulling for) that he whipped it off their heads after ten minutes and never forced them to wear it again. Their mother, bemused and watching from the kitchen, had never said a word.

Lily laughed out loud. "Something like that," she said.

"Nah," he said, "I'm okay." He shivered once in counterpoint and pushed himself a little further into her side.

XxX

When the grey dawn broke, they both stood and stamped feeling into tired, cold feet. They hadn’t slept much and had yet to see a car. They were hungry, thirsty and each a bundled coil of nerves.

"Do you think we should hike out? Down the road? See if we can get a signal?" Will asked. His wiry copper locks were plastered to his head on one side where he'd been laying against her.

It was then that Lily heard a distant hum. She and Will moved to the edge of the trees, and she leaned slightly out to try to get a look at the approaching vehicle. It was a grey van, pulling a trailer that had two ATV four-wheelers strapped to it.

"What do you think?" she asked her brother. The van was coming on fast and if they were to try to flag it down for help, they'd need to do so in the next few seconds.

Will nodded at her, and they both darted out of the tree line simultaneously, waving their arms in the air. The van slowed as it approached and Lily saw the driver's side window come down. It rolled to a stop about ten feet away from them and a man leaned out and gave them both an assessing look.

"You guys okay?" he asked.

"We're-" Lily started and then stopped herself. "We have someone at our camp who requires medical attention. Can you call 911?"

"Sure, I can do that," the man said, and then pulled out a phone. He leaned it away from his ear and waved them closer to his vehicle. When the call appeared to connect, he leaned back into it and said, "Hi yes, I've got a medical emergency here at... Christ, where are we? Uh, M-95 about ten miles north of Felch Mountain... Yeah... I'm not exactly sure, I got some kids on the side of the highway here... Uh-huh... Okay... You bet."

He disconnected the call and lowered the phone. "The dispatcher wants y'all to wait here until they can get the Sheriff and ambulance out here. You guys want to wait in the van? It’s cold and I got some water and snacks..."

Lily was about to refuse when she heard Will's stomach growl loudly.

"Yeah," she said, "okay, thanks."

The man leaned over and unlocked the passenger door as they approached and rolled down that window as well.

"Sorry," he said, "got the back full of hunting crap. Hop on in."

With a hand on the door, she thought about just asking the man to hand them a bit of food and water, but Will looked so cold and miserable that she opened the door and swung herself up and into the seat. Will followed her, and they sat cramped together in the passenger seat, which was at least fairly substantial in size.

The man handed them each a bottle of water and a Slim Jim from a cooler just behind his seat and nodded at the door.

"Can you close that behind you? I want to pull us off the road."

Will did as the man asked, guzzling the water and ripping into the meat stick, chewing loudly. The man nudged the van forward, but instead of immediately pulling off the road, he drove a ways down it, though not fast.

"Hey, mister," Lily started to say, studying him. He was roughly their parents’ age, with dark thick hair and an almost feminine nose. He wore black tactical pants and a black jacket, and emerging from just below it, Lily recognized the bottom of a holster. It was the same model as the one her mother carried. When she looked back up to find the man's eyes, he was holding a gun aimed right at her face. Will had yet to notice, busy as he was stuffing his face, and he only looked up when the driver pulled into the entrance of the two-track that led to Camp Hi-Early. Will's face went ashen.

Lily, her guts gone liquid, cleared her throat. "You didn't call 911, did you?" she asked, and the man's face pulled into a slow menacing smile.

"No," he said, "I didn't."

[queenoftheworldisdead]

Unbetrothed

Summary: Let me just say I am an American with no idea of how royal hierarchies work. Just made something up.

Governors are basically kings of the states they run with their own armies and mayors are dukes. Women are not allowed to work, only marry.

Dark MCU royal AU [but not really grey at best]

Sam Wilson x reader, dark Thor x reader [not really i don’t think. more like grey Thor]

Warning: attempted suicide, sex

----

"She's old Margret" your father huffed.

"Dear no I think you're being harsh" your mother defended.

You sat in the kitchen peeling potatoes for tonight’s dinner as you listened to him complain.

"I most certainly am not! She is old. Way past her prime. Am I supposed to work myself to death to  support her?" He grumbled.

"Her brothers have long sense left this house. Started families of their own. Making their own way about the world."

"Dear they are men. Made to labor. What would you have her do? You refused her education. She has little options"

Women were with few exception not allowed to work. If you were not aiming to be a nurse, maid, or teacher. Most girls stopped their education after they learned to read or their parents stopped paying for tuition.

"Well, I would have assumed she would have been long sense married by now. What would be the point in wasting the money on education?"

He would often complain after doing his monthly expenses. Paying for the loan on the house, paying to feed himself and his wife, but the extra cost of the spare mouth of a daughter drove him up the wall. He actually calculated how much extra money he would have if you were not there draining his savings. As if it would by him a cottage on a beach in the state.

A popper he was not but a frugal bastard he was indeed. Only spending extra if he could come out ahead in the end.

It was like this most days, the only time it wasn't were when your father stayed out to drink. Pouring his sorrows into a pint and from your mothers presumption whores.

"Joseph, from work, told me that the Governor's having a ball. Says that his son told him that they send all the army boys there, most bachelors the lot of them. You know those army folks are quick to wed." He told your mother. He had planned this out thoroughly it would seem. "Lets put some lipstick on this pig and send her off"

"She is not a cow you sell at market!" Your mother was outraged out the notion.

"Well Moo Moo Margret. She is going. If she doesn't find a suitor then she is out on the streets. Have the state worry for her."

"Dear you cant mean that. She is our blood." Your mother would do nothing more than speak of her disapproval.

"It's my mother's fault." He said as he walked to his favorite sitting chair. "She was a bit misshapen. Got her damn jeans from me. Swear if she didn't look like her I would deny her my name" your mother gasped loudly at the insult.

"She tried to marry the Wilson boy and you denied her! Now look at him, second in command of the states army."

"Well, I thought when she...uh" he paused to find the right word to say. "Bloomed she would bring better prospects."

When you were 14 you fell in love with Sam Wilson and he with you. Children of the same age, same culture and you two had become fast friends. He had always made you laugh and it was not uncommon to be betrothed at such a young age.

One day while playing by the creek he had pushed you against the old oak tree and kissed you. So innocent and sweet, but it only lasted a fraction of a second. You had stared at him with your eyes wide with shock and surprise.

"Y/N I love you. Marry me?" He had no ring just a wild daffodil half ruined from being hid within his pants pocket. You had hugged him so tight he teased that you almost broke his bones. You had loved him for ages and to have your best friend love you back was truly a delight any girl could ask for.

The day felt like a dream as you two lay in the field and talked of your future. How many children, where the house should be, what the wedding would be like. You hadn't even noticed that the sun was setting as the euphoria of your love took over.

Kissing him on the cheek with a promise to meet again tomorrow you rushed home. With a smile that would not falter.

"Mom! Mom!" You burst through the door.

"What is it girl? You're so loud. What is it?"

"Sam! He asked me to be his wife!" Barely able to catch your breath as you retell the events.

Your mother's sweet smile showed of her approval in the union. The excitement of telling your father made the hands on the clock drag. When you saw the cart finally drop him off you exploded through the door and rushed to tell him your joyous news.

But your joy was short lived. Sam's family was not the status that he wanted for you. He gambled that when you were to hit puberty you would attract hire quality suitors. To hedged his bets he pulled you from school and refused you out to see Sam.

The decision crushing you completely, your home had become your prison for over a decade. Only allowing out into the world to join your mother for her weekly shopping.

He broke you back then and thought nothing of it. Unmoved by your constant tears and sorrow. Eventually you cared not for the fancy things in life. Your hair unkept, your clothes unpressed and makeup was as foreign to you as the neighboring states. Your mother would often scold you for not putting out your best as to catch the eyes of a suitor. But what was the point?

You lived only in the fading memories of Sam. Replaying ways to have made things different. Your mother took pity allowing you stationary upon which to write. Sending him love letters, but sadly with no replies.

"Well I buying her a ticket to the governors ball. We have enough for a decent enough dress so get her ready." Plopping down he opened his smoking box to take out his pipe. Lighting it up with long puff signaling to your mother that the final word had been spoken.

Your mother with your fathers pocket book went all out. When he saw the receipts he almost had a stroke. He swore never again to make that mistake with your mother again.

Your hair, makeup and dress were all done for the affair. When she showed you the results in the mirror before you left with your father you swore someone had bewitched the mirror.

When you two arrived at the Governors estate your father pushed you to mingle. But you had not the heart for music and fun. Walking aimlessly about the crowded event until you spotted him.

It couldn't be could it?

Walking up to the man you presumed to be your long lost love you call out.

"Sam?"

It was him, adorn in his formal military uniform.

"Y/N?"

Your heart felt like it beat for the first time in ages. Swelling with joy tears almost fell from your eyes at the sight of your long lost love.

You hugged him instantly, but it took a moment before his arms reciprocated the gesture.

"I always wondered what happened to you. I even went to your house but I was always turned away"

"It was all my fathers doing. Did you receive my letters? My mother made sure to mail them daily, but I never got word back."

Even through your despair you had never stopped writing. Everyday even when your mind tried to insert logic you still wrote. You could barely spell and your mother was of no use in that matter, but that did not stop you.

"What letters?" He was at a loss and that is when your heart began to hurt a little at the betrayal of you're only ally.

Every shopping day your mother would buy you the most gorgeous letter paper to write to him with, only to never send them. But why?

"I wrote to you every day Sam I swear it" you were in denial. She wouldn't have done that. No never her. Not your mother.

"Honey who is this?" A beautiful woman appeared from his side.

"This is an old friend. Wanda this is Y/N"

She was so striking and much younger than you. "Oh hello he talks much about his youth here in this state, but I'm sorry I don't recall you." You could see her trying to recall a memory and even with the scrunch of her brow she was a sight.

What would you say to her? That you were his first love, first kiss, that he had proposed to you. That you still had the daffodil he gave. Now pressed in the holy book on the page that would have held your vows.

"I.." You looked at him. His smile was for her now. You were nothing, but a ghost playing among the living. "I went to school with him when I was much younger, but never completed." She smiled at you so pure and overflowing with love for him that it made you sick, but you forced yourself to mirror her.

"Well it was nice meeting you, Y/N.." She said through the loud music."but if you will excuse me I would love to dance with my fiancé." Pulling him away. As they departed what was left of your heart felt as if it had rolled in glass.

Every breath brought a pain and as your vision began to blur you saw your father approached with that look. That look that you had not the energy to deal with. So you took off. Walking swiftly through the crowded ballroom zigging and zagging not knowing where to go. You were boiling over, but you didn't want the world to see. For Sam to see.

As you scanned the massive room filled with people you spot a staircase that wrapped along the wall. You don't know why you went to it, but you did. Ascending the stairs as quickly as you could in your full dress. Tripping only twice on the petty coat underneath, but still able to stand up right. There were fewer people on this level, each in their own conversation of this or that. Taking a deep breath you decide to turn left. Passing awkwardly by the smaller groups of people before stopping at the door at the end of the hall.

The massive wooden door was unlocked when you tried the handle. Pushing it open you could see no lights. Entering the darkness of the room, the blackness poured over you then the tears fall before you could close it behind you. With your back pressed to it you slid down the door and on to the floor. The sound of the booming music from the band hiding you're sobbing from the world.

As you cried you felt the cold breeze of the night prickle your skin. Looking you see the sheer curtain dance in the wind the color of the moon light giving it a soft ghostly hue. Standing up you walked to it. Opening the curtain you found the window to actually be a small balcony.

Walking out to the banister at the end you stare up at the moon and the sight of it filled you with loneliness. A small part of you had held out hope that Sam still loved you, would come for you and you two would live out those childhood wishes from long ago. But he wasn't and your father would surely be tossing you out by the morrow.

You didn't know how, but somehow you had climbed over the railing. Staring at the earth below.

What was the point? You couldn't work, too old to marry. Born to be nothing.

"You shouldn't be here." A voice came out from behind the ghostly veil.

Turning your head you look back to see, but when you spotted him you only stared through him.

Holding on to the steel frame of the balcony you lean forward. Hoping that when you fall and kiss the ground that the pain would be swift. So you let go.

"No you don't"

He was fast. Catching your wrist before you descended. Looking up at him you could see him clearly now. The strain on his face had his veins busting through his flesh as he pulls you back up and over the banister.

He had pulled you so hard that he lost balance and landed on the  floor with you on top of him.

Pushing yourself off his chest you straddled him. Your dress almost swallowing him whole. When he sat up he rubbed the back of his head and hissed. As he straightened himself, his height could not be ignored.

"Are you mad wo.." His words were cut off by the crashing of your lips to his. You just pressed them hard into his, your eyes shut tight as your fingers clasped the fabric of his formal uniform.

His hands came on to your shoulders and pushed you back. "They had told me these events were to be a prudish affair. Had I known women of this state were made of fire we would have united our states long ago." His strange accent had you gawking at him.

Your eyes fell to his uniform, the colors were all wrong. It was not of your state's formal wear, but anothers.

He kissed you this time, his tongue tickled your bottom lip the sudden wetness of it made you gasp and he took that opportunity to invade. Yours sat frozen in your mouth bewildered by the intrusion.

When his hands fell on your hip you yelped in his mouth. "Move for me" he said as his hands guided you back and forth on his lap. The friction of his pants on your bloomers was delightful. Moaning in his mouth your eyes shot open wide. Embarrassed by the foreign noise, but the man only chuckled on your lips.

Your hands released his clothes and wrapped around his neck. When he bit your bottom lip you bit his, when his tongue flicked yours you flicked his in turn. You let him guide you to every move. His hands fell from your hip, but you still kept the pace as the warm fuzziness of the feeling building in your core wanted more.

Placing his arms on your back he pushed you backwards on to the  cold balcony floor while never breaking his kiss. Your heart beat hard in your chest as you felt him press you into the unforgiving floor with your dress the only bit of comfort to it.

He pulled away again making you whimper. His smile looked so devilish as he stared down at you. "Your pure aren't you girl."

Your ears felt hot as his eyes looked upon you. "Yes" it came out almost as a whisper.

He bit his lip almost fighting off a bigger grin. Moving his hands from your back one hand glided atop your dress. Grazing both breasts before hooking his in it. Pulling the fabric down allowing your breast to bounce free in the night air. His warm palm overtaking the circumference of one breast filling your body with more fire.

Bending down you closed your eyes to receive a kiss, but it never came. His wet mouth latched onto your exposed bosom, making you pant. The flicking of his tongue drove you mad with wanting. His soft lips kissed each breast before sucking your nipple into his mouth. "Your flesh is sweeter than any honey I've ever tasted." His rugged voice sent you soaring to the heavens.

Bunching up your dress his hand moved slowly up your thigh. Stopping at your bloomers. "What do you want little dove?" He looked down at you again. Waiting for your answer.

Was this what Sam does to Wanda?

For whatever reason your mind could not picture him this way. So your mind drifted, thinking of the women of the night. The women that lived for the night as you are now. Your mother had spoke often about loose women. Whores she would call them. Good for nothings seen as no more than the corrupters of men souls. That’s why she never blamed your father for his misdeeds. You wanted to be a corrupter of men, to hold a power over them. Seeing as giving them power had brought you no joy in this world.

"I want to be a whore" at your words his smile dropped and a hunger unfamiliar to you grew upon his face.

Hurriedly pulling your bloomers down you could hear a growl from him. As if by the moon he would change into a wolf right before your eyes. His focus strayed from you but for only a brief moment as he fiddled with his own attire.

He lay between your spread legs poking at your muff with a rod harder than the floor that ached your back. "Then my whore you shall be" without another word he forced himself into you.

The pain and discomfort had you screaming into the night. Pushing him off, but he held steadfast deep in you up to his hilt. Tears prickled your eyes as the pain felt unbearable. Lifting your legs onto his shoulder allowed him deeper still and you felt too full.

"Please sir it hurts" you hissed. Your eyes pleading up at him.

"Not for long my dove" His hips slammed against you with such forced that you tried to crawl backwards away. But with his hands on your shoulder he locked you in place. Each time his hips slapped yours it sent jolts throughout your body.

Your mewls mixing with his groans while the music played from the ball down stairs. "It hurts!" Your voice quakes as he continued his punishing thrust. Your breasts jerking harshly from his movements while your legs try and force him off, but he went on undeterred.

"My..dove.. sing for me" and you did with every thrust.

Your back arched off the unforgiving ground as you felt your cunt stretched beyond its limits to receive him. Your nails dragged along his coat sleeves, snagging on badges here and there.

The pain of him faded into a wave of ecstasy. "More please" you panted.

"Does..my..dove..love.. my..cock" he teased as he watched your face transform from pain to pleasure. Hitting your core harder with each word, moaning deeply as he filled you.

"Mmm so-so good." You moaned. The pressure from him electrified your whole body. You could feel every inch of him and you wanted more.

"A whore..only for...me" he groaned. His chest pressed into your legs as his movements grew wilder. Your body felt a buzz, your flower so alive, clenching feverishly around him. His member started twitching, flexing inside of you and filling you with more warmth and wetness.

"Such a good little dove" he praised.

When he stopped he gave your lips one last kiss before falling over to your side. Your legs flopped to the floor landing with a thud shaking like a leaf in the wind. Turning your head to him, you examined the glistening features of his face.

"Who are you?" You panted out half exhausted.

As he began to speak the door creaked open in the distance.

"Y/N!" Your fathers voice shouted out. You sat up with a cold splash of reality hitting you.

When your father came into the room he had only seen the aftermath. A compromising position that sent him into a tizzy. Racing over to you he grabbed your for arm pulling you from your savior.

Pulling up your top and cleaning off your dress you prayed he had not noticed your very bare chest in the confusion.

"What are you doing who is that?" He roared furiously. "Speak"

*Smack

His slap faded into the nights air. He must be getting older, much more older than you thought him to be. His strikes barely fazed you now, but you held your face as if it still held the same power as they used to have.

"What were you thinking you stupid girl? Your chastity is you're only saving grace." He was furious. "I can't believe my own daughter a whore."

"Ah heeeehhhmmmm" the stranger cleared his throat behind you. His height towering over you and your father.

"Excuse me sir, but in my state we do not take Kindly to the striking of innocent women."

"And who are you to speak to me in such a ways army boy?"

"I'm lieutenant Governor Thor Odinson of the Asgardian state. New allies of your Governor's state."

Your father's eyes widened in shock as did yours.

"We were just admiring the constellations as we are ought to do in my state. Isn't that right milady?"

Your father looked to you to answer while Thor shot you a knowing wink.

"Well if you would excuse her intrusion sir, but she is supposed to be finding a suitor not laying about star gazing" he spoke nervously.

Pulling you out of the room by your arm as Thor faded into the darkness.

"What happened to your face girl you look a sight?" He said annoyed. "Go to the mirror and fix yourself" he pointed to a mirror along the wall right before the entrance to the room. "Had someone else spotted you, you would have been thought a harlot for sure" he huffed.

Hurrying away you rush to the mirror all the while you felt Thor's seed snake down your leg.

[katehuntington]

Title: Ride With Me (part eight) Fandom: Supernatural AU Characters series: Reader, Dean Winchester, Bobby Singer, Ellen Singer-Harvelle, Jo Singer (Harvelle), Benny Lafitte, Ash Miles, Garth Fitzgerald IV, Castiel Novek, and many more. Timeline: 2008 Pairing: Dean x Reader (eventually) Word count: 5550 words Summary series: Y/N is a talented horse rider who is on her way to become a professional. In order to convince her father that she deserves the loan needed to start her own farm, she goes to Arizona for six months, to intern at a ranch owned by Bobby and Ellen Singer. Her future is set out, but then she meets a handsome horseman, who goes by the name of Dean Winchester. A heartwarming series about a cowboy who falls for the girl, letting go of the past and the importance of family.  Summary part eight: It’s one of those days for Dean where everything that can go wrong, goes wrong. After one hell of a day, Bobby has to break the news to Ash, who doesn’t take the lay off well. Warnings series: NSFW, 18+ only! Fluff, angst, eventually smut. Swearing, smoking, alcohol intoxication, alcohol abuse. Mutual pining, heartbreak. Crying, nightmares, childhood trauma. Description of animal abuse, domestic violence, mentions of addiction. Financial problems, stress, mental breakdown. Description of blood and injury, hospital scenes, character death, grief. Music: About Today - The National (final scene). Check out ‘Kate Huntington’s Ride With Me playlist’ on Spotify! Author’s note: Thank you @kittenofdoomage and @girl-with-a-fandom-fettishfor helping me. You girls are awesome betas. Thank you for your endless patience!

Ride With Me Masterlist

     7.30 AM, Monday morning. Several hundred hooves tremble the ground. Earthy colored dust has turned into dark mud overnight as the heavens unleashed a rainstorm that still hasn't stopped from raging down. The cattle moos anxiously, trying to stick together as a herd. Bobby’s dog, Rumsfeld, barks over the sound of it all, his enthusiastic calls trumped by the shouts and whistles of the wranglers.       "Yah!” Dean shouts, cutting off young stock that threatens to fan out.

     Droplets as big as marbles fall from the grey sky, the water caught in the brim of his hat pouring from it whenever he tips it down. It’s unusually cold this morning without sunshine to burn the night away. The long, leather coat he’s wearing protects him from that, but the rain started coming through the seams on his shoulders and elbows two hours ago and a steady drip down his neck has drenched his shirt already. Dean has been in the saddle since four o'clock, ever since the thunder woke him up and an eerie gut feeling began to unsettle him. Something was wrong, he felt it in his bones. As he stepped out onto the porch, he immediately noticed the distressed young stock on the wrong side of the fence. Apparently, the cattle panicked in the thunderstorm, took down a gate, and escaped the pen, splitting the herd in two. They were absolutely all over the place, roaming over more than forty acres. With a buyer coming in at 9 AM, he had to gather the two hundred cows and bulls fast, if he wanted to avoid a financial disaster.      So here they are; wet through, tired and miserable, trying to maneuver their horses on the slick surface. A perfect start for this dreadful Monday.

     A sharp whistle reverberates through the valley, requiring his attention. It's Bobby, looking over the mayhem from a small hill, calling his horse to a stand. “Dean, stragglers!”      His head wrangler notices three steers swaying away from the herd. Dean turns from the tail of the group and pushes his horse forward, but immediately senses the loss of grip in the slippery mud. Led’s hind legs skid from under his body, forcing the buckskin to the ground. As the horse's knees buckle, the experienced rider decides in a split second not to leave the sinking ship. Instead, he skillfully sticks to the saddle like he’s glued to the leather, and moves his weight to level out the balance. At the same time, he pulls Led’s nose from the ground and gives enough free rein right after, simultaneously pushing his heels into the horse’s flanks, encourages him to give it his everything to get back on his feet. His quick thinking enables the stallion to break the fall and thankfully; Led steadies himself. Dean breathes out; that was way too close.      “Well done, bud,” the rider soothes, ruffling the Quarter’s mane, glad that he was able to prevent a possibly painful crash.      “Hell of a save,” Benny comments from several yards away. “You alright?”      “I'm good,” Dean assures his best friend. “We need to round them up fast before this whole pasture turns into a mudslide.”      He pushes Led forward, who picks up speed carefully, smart enough to not make the same mistake twice. It takes a while to make up for the lost time, but then he wings the three bulls, guiding them back to the group. Slowly but surely, the wranglers manage to maneuver the large number of animals back into another secured pen. It’s past eight o’clock when Jo closes the last gate and they can all take a breather. Too bad they cannot head back to bed just yet, the day has only just begun.      “Next time you wake me up in the middle of the night, make sure it’s because there’s some hot gal waiting for me on my doorstep,” Ash mocks as he slows his horse down.      Dean looks aside, grinning at the guy that’s in charge of the cattle. “You have enough problems controlling your cows, let alone women, Ash.”      Benny laughs at that, so does Jo. He’s sure Bobby would have laughed at it too, if it wasn't for the troubling decision that has been made. The ranch owner rests his hand on the horn, taking in his dream team as the rain finally stops falling. Today is the day that he will sell over three-fourths of his cattle. Decades of blood, sweat and tears, sold for a dime. Damage control, they call that. It ain't pretty, but it’s necessary to prevent this place from drowning. What else is necessary is cutting down on personnel. Collateral damage is the term, Bobby believes. There’s that word again: damage.      “Is Rufus still dropping by at nine?” Dean, who held up his horse to ride next to his uncle, checks with him.      “Yeah, but you know Rufus. Could be eleven just as well,” Bobby mutters, aware of his old friend’s carelessness.      “Better ask Ellen to break out the Johnny Walker Blue if you're aiming for a good price,” his right hand suggests, before he halts at the tack up area.      The sound of horseshoes splashing on the wet surface draws Y/N’s attention. She parks her broom against the stable wall and peeks around the corner, spotting the wranglers under the Yucca tree, which seems to cry silently as tears of rain drip down from its branches.      “Garth! They're here!” she shouts at the stable boy on the other side of the barn.      The slender guy pops his head out of a stall, then walks out and closes the door behind him. Like the wranglers, he and the intern got up at four in the morning as well. During the weekend the stables aren't mucked out, which adds to the work on Monday, and with Bobby, Jo and Dean handling the breakout, the two of them had to feed and turn out the animals as well. Getting up early was the only way to get all the work done without falling behind.       As the dark rain clouds pass, everyone on the square gets off their horses. Y/N walks up to Bobby, sensing the low morale. No wonder, because all five wranglers are soaked, probably sore and tired too.      “I got him.” She takes over his chestnut named Seger. “Ellen has breakfast ready for you.”     “Thank you, Darlin’,” the old man mumbles, stiffly making his way to the cafeteria.      While tying up Seger, Y/N watches the ranch owner hobble off, wondering why he seems so burdened. When she glances back to loosen the horse’s cinch, a handsome cowboy catches her eye on the other side of the chestnut. Dean takes off Led’s bridle, the last waterdrops rolling from the dip of his hat. Mud splatters have sprayed across his leather overcoat, his boots covered in dirt. There are smudges on his face, along with a weekend stubble still on his strong jaw. The knuckles of his firm hands have a blue shade, so do his lips; he must be so cold after four hours in the pouring rain. With sympathy, she looks at him.        “Hell of a morning, huh?” she comments, trying to make small talk.      Dean looks up and pauses his action. He seems a little surprised by her voice, as if only just now he realized she was behind the horse next to him. The line parting his lips breaks in a small smile. It’s the first time he hears her use a word as such. His language is terrible, he throws in a variation of the words ‘fuck’ and ‘shit’ wherever it fits. But Y/N on the other hand, coming from upstate, says ‘gosh’ at most, and uses terms such as ‘for heaven’s sake’, which he finds quite cute. Apparently she’s adapting to her company.       The wrangler scoffs. “You can say that again.”      He unbuckles the cinch and removes the saddle from Led’s back. The mud sticking to the saddle pad is hard to miss and it catches the intern’s eye. Led must have hit the ground at some point, how else would the animal have dirt caked thick in his coat on his entire side?      “Did you fall?” she asks.      Dean chuckles, slightly amused, while he puts the heavy saddle on the bar his horse is tied to as well. He heard that, the worry in her voice.      “Led slipped, but he was able to steady himself,” he reassures.      The cowboy returns his focus to the buckskin next to him as he turns the faucet of the water source. Led might be wet through just like his rider, but he’s covered in filth as well, and that's no way to bring a horse back to his stable. He quickly hoses down his Quarter, while Y/N washes Seger’s feet. When she’s done, she follows Benny and Jo as they return their horses to the stable. Coming back to pick up the saddle, Y/N finds her supervisor crouched down next to Led’s left front leg.      “Shit…” he curses, feeling the cannon bone.      The saddle is left on the bar. Instead, Y/N comes to see what Dean is annoyed with. With just one glance she can determine the swelling on the back of the leg, a little above the fetlock joint.      “Tendon?” she assumes, petting the horse on the shoulder.      Dean carefully feels the tissue, causing Led to flinch. It’s painful, but with all the fluid that is building up around the injury, it’s hard to tell what exactly is causing the reaction.       “Could be. He seemed sound after he tripped,” the wrangler contemplates. “Can you jog him?”      “Sure,” she replies, after which she unties the horse.      Y/N leads the beautiful Quarter in a straight line and starts to run after a few yards. With the first stride it’s already clear that Led is anything but even. Only the  click-clack  sound of Led’s shoes on the surface is enough to state the obvious.       “Well, that ain't good,” Dean sighs as Y/N walks the palomino back.      “You didn't feel him at all?” she checks with the wrangler.      “The poor bastard must have worked through the pain. He’s a tough horse,” Dean ponders, running his hand down Led’s face with sympathy. “I'll cool his leg for a while. Can you get a rug for him?”      “What about you?”       He shrugs selflessly. “I’ll skip breakfast.”      “You’re not skipping breakfast. You've been working nonstop since four AM, you deserve a break,” Y/N decides, strong-minded. “I have cooling leg boots which Led can wear while he's stabled. It works better than cooling with water.”      “Alright then.” He smiles, appreciating her firm response.      He takes over his horse and leads Led back to the barn without hasting him. Silently, Dean turns the Quarter in as his intern walks to the tack room to get the leg wrap and a rug, followed by a stop at the cafeteria to pick up two cool packs from the freezer. On her way over, she notices the handsome wrangler staring at nothing in particular, lost in thoughts. His fingers absently rub Led’s withers, who on his turn bends his neck and seeks the cowboy’s free hand, nuzzling his nose against his skin, as if he is trying to comfort his rider in return. Although it’s a heartwarming sight to see the man having a moment with the beautiful animal, Y/N can sense something is off about him. Not that she knows him all that well, but she can tell that he’s carrying a crippling weight. He’s quiet, for one. No smart answers or perky remarks that could easily be mistaken for flirting. There is also something about his eyes, something weary.       “Here you go,” she says, handing over the boot.      Dean takes it and straps around the injured leg, while Y/N lays a fleece rug on Led’s back to prevent the horse from cooling down too fast. When the wrangler rises to his feet and lets his fingers glide through Led’s golden coat while waiting for her to secure the rug, the silence is awfully evident.        “Are you okay?” she asks carefully.      Dean glances up, caught off guard by the question. For a moment he reckons she’s asking because of the almost crash and now Led’s injury, but when his eyes meet hers, he sees that the question is more layered than that. His first instinct is to throw her a cocky comment, that a little mud isn't ever going to bring him down, but he decides against it. He’s not sure if his hesitation is caused by her ability to read between the lines, but the young man suddenly feels vulnerable, intimidated even.      “Yeah, I'm fine,” he says. “Let’s eat. Don't know about you, but I'm starving.”     She fakes a smile. Of course, she could eat after a morning like today, but she was hoping Dean would take the opportunity to get it off his chest.       A pleasant heat and the smell of bacon and toast welcome them like it does every working day, when Y/N pushes open the door to the cozy personnel hangout. Ellen’s breakfast is always something to look forward to, but today it’s a true gift from heaven. The rest of the crew sits down after having changed into dry clothes and wait impatiently for their bacon and eggs, as Bobby finishes his plate first. When the door creaks, Ellen looks up from behind the stove.      “Oh honey, look at you,” she says when Dean follows you inside. “Did you drown out there? You're soaked through.”      Her nephew hangs his dripping coat and Sheplers on the hat rack above the heater and is welcomed by his aunt with a clean towel, a warm flannel and a pair of jeans      “Why don't you freshen up first and put on some dry clothes. Wouldn't want you to catch a cold,” she insists.      “Thanks, Ellen.” Dean takes the neatly folded pile from her arms after which he places a short, genuine kiss on her hair and moves to the backroom to change.      Y/N can't help but smile when she sits down, delighted to witness the wrangler’s soft side for the second time today. The warmth spreads through her like the hot coffee that she swallows down and settles in the pit of her stomach. She folds her fingers around the mug as she takes another sip, peering over the edge at the man she is losing her heart to as he closes the door behind him. A kick against the shin awakens her from a trance, the action causing her to almost choke on her coffee. Jo sits across the table, her deadly glare demanding to get it together. Flustered and caught, Y/N averts her gaze at the plate that Ellen just set down under her nose.       “Dig in while it’s still warm, sweety,” she insists, oblivious of how the intern feels about her nephew.      Y/N does so, partly as an excuse to not look Jo in the eye and be confronted with her judgment. But when Dean enters the room again, cleaned up and wearing a comfortable red plaid flannel, she just has to take him in for a second. Before Jo can kick her leg again, someone knocks on the glass window from outside the cafeteria. Everyone looks up at the doorway when an old friend of Bobby’s appears.      “Well, I'll be damned,” Ellen says, delighted. “If it ain't Rufus Turner.”      The African American with a pearl white smile and a rascal look in his eyes enters the cafeteria.      “Ellen Singer, you haven't changed a bit.” Rufus takes his hat off for her, but then he turns to face her husband at the head of the table. “But you on the other hand,” he pats Bobby on the back, “- you got old.”      The joke attracts a laugh from the others.      “Good to see you too, Rufus,” the ranch owner responds.      “Grab a plate and dig in. There’s plenty,” Ellen offers.      “I’d love to, but if you don't mind, I wanna get down to business. I've got places to be later.” He puts his hat back on and turns to the rest of the company. “Mind if I steal him for a bit?”      “By all means, steal away.” Ellen smiles politely.      Bobby gets up and excuses himself. When he has left the room, the workers finish their breakfast. Nobody says anything, and although Y/N doesn't understand what has caused the grim mood, she keeps her mouth shut. Instead, she takes in the people surrounding her. Jo, Ellen, and Dean seem to ignore the elephant in the room, while Garth, Benny and Ash exchange puzzled looks. Rufus’s visit to the ranch has stirred things up. Who is he? A business partner? A trader, maybe?           When the break is over and the crew gets back to work, the air is more suffocating than it is on a hot day. It has nothing to do with the weather, though.      “Why is Bobby selling stock?”      It’s Ash who asks as the gang walks down to the paddocks between the stables. The question breaks the silence, but it also adds to the tension. Jo and Dean exchange a look, but both keep quiet, which isn’t sufficient for the worker with the odd haircut.      “That’s why Rufus is here, ain’t it?” Ash pushes, a worry in his tone that seems foreign for the carefree guy.       The head wrangler sighs and turns to his friend.       “Look, business has been slow, y’all know that. Rufus is here to discuss the value of the cattle, to explore our options,” Dean tries to reassure not just him, but the rest of his staff.      When he can read from Ash’s face that his reassurance doesn’t have much effect, he adds a few words he might regret later.  “No need to worry just yet. We’ll figure it out. Now let’s get to work.”      And so everyone does, some left with a few questions, but the leader of the team has managed to take away most of the concern. All this time, the intern hasn’t said a word. The young woman with a master’s degree in business and a nose for bullcrap only observes. She observes Dean, when he glances at his cousin, troubled, right after Ash walks off to fill the hay barn in the main pastures. She observes Jo, who looks at the ground and keeps quiet, as the two of them walk over to the paddocks to turn the horses in. She observes Bobby Singer and Rufus Turner, who are seated on the back porch of the house, accompanied by a bottle of Johnny Walker Blue, tied up in a dialogue that seems to be a negotiation more than it is a casual chat. She observes the handshake, the ‘glad to do business with you’ grin on Rufus’s face opposite of the defeat in the ranch owner’s eyes. So much for not needing to worry just yet.

     The early morning rain has cooled down the dusty lands and doesn’t allow the temperature to rise like it did the previous days. Clouds keep rolling in from the east, cutting off the sun. This weather suits Y/N better and she works extra hard now that her body doesn’t seem like it’s overheating. It gives her a good feeling that she is able to take some of the load from the other workers. Dean even allowed her to train two of the horses, since he had a meeting with Bobby. He didn’t return until an hour before supper. After dinner, Benny and Garth head to the shed to fix the tractor, that on top of everything else, started spilling oil. The rest of the crew is about to retreat back to the bunkhouse, when Bobby calls back one of the workers.      “Ash?” he says, his voice matching his serious expression. “Can you come into my office?”      “Sure thing, boss,” he responds, joining the ranch owner.      Dean can read from Ash’s facial expression that he’s uneasy, but doesn’t have a clue what is coming for him. The ranch hand who is in charge of the cattle probably assumes that Bobby is going to update him on the reason why Rufus was here. Shit, he wishes it was just a simple briefing. Poor bastard…      The head wrangler exhales as he walks on, shaking off the cold that hasn’t seemed to leave his body after the rainy morning. Jo follows him silently, kicking the clotty earth with her dragging feet, hands shoved down in the pockets of her denim jacket. Y/N is on his other side, wonderingly looking over at them every now and then. She has kept quiet long enough. So when they step up the stairs to the porch first, she drops the bomb.      “So, Ash is getting sacked, huh?”      Dean has stopped in his tracks and instantly shoots an angry glare at Jo. “You told her?!”      “I didn’t tell her jack shit!” she counters, insulted.       “She didn’t need to, Dean,” Y/N backs her up, having turned around before opening the front door. “Livestock sales have plummeted nationwide, yet Bobby is selling now, so times must be desperate. With no cattle to handle it’s only logical that Ash will be let go in order to cut down on costs. I have a business degree, remember? I can do the math. Here, you guys look like you can use these.”      During her flood of words, she had strolled to the fridge, taken out three beers, and popped the caps off with an opener. Not sure if he should be impressed or feel threatened by the intern’s knowledge, Dean takes the drink and has a swig of the brew. She’s right about more than a few things; he needed a beer.      “Is Bobby breaking it to him now?” she wonders.      Dean glances over at Jo, who leans back against the kitchen sink, nursing her bottle. It’s not something they would usually discuss with interns, but since she already seems to be fully aware of the situation and he trusts that she will keep this between them, he confirms with a nod.      “Damn…” Y/N ponders, biting her lip as her eyes drift away to nothing in particular. “How long has he been here?”      “For about five years now,” Jo thinks back, clearly sad about having to say goodbye to a good friend. “I can remember the day he arrived. He caught Dad’s eye at the Holbrook Rodeo, where he worked in the arena. He couldn’t keep a job long enough to rent himself a roof over his head, mostly because of his looks and his ‘fuck you’ attitude, but he was good with the bulls. That’s when Dad asked him to come work for him and for the first time, Ash found a place where he belonged. He’s been here ever since. Never stayed in one spot this long. Mom and Dad have a habit of taking the misfits under their wings.”      It’s quiet for a few long seconds, as Dean recalls Ash’s early days on the property. Then he goes back further, to the day he himself set foot on these lands, with nowhere else to go. They did exactly the same for him as they did for Ash; offered him a comfortable bed, warm food, a rewarding job. A safe haven where they didn’t have to worry about how to get through tomorrow, where they didn’t have to be scared. One would perhaps expect Bobby and Ellen to take Dean in, him being their nephew. But it didn’t matter that the funny looking bullfighter called Ash wasn’t related. He became family, too.      “How do you think he’s going to take it?”      It’s Y/N who breaks Dean’s train of thought.      He ponders for a moment before he answers. “I dunno. He’s a pretty chill guy these days, but this is so much more than just a job.”      Dean pauses, putting himself in Ash’s shoes for a moment. Who is he fooling? His friend is going to lose it.      “Guess we’re gonna find out in a moment,” Jo says, nodding at the portrait outside.      Y/N glances through the dirty window while Dean holds the bamboo fly curtain aside to step onto the porch. It’s Ash who approaches the bunkhouse, but he doesn’t have the swagger he usually has in his stride. The ranch hand is looking down at the ground, the soil he used to call home. Every muscle in his face tensed, balled fists move alongside him with each step. Dean watches the guy for a brief moment, then descends the stairs to meet with him, but Ash does not want any of it. Instead, his friend walks past him, dismissing the head wrangler.      “Ash. I--”      The words trigger something in the lean guy, because after taking two strides up the steps, he turns around, a pair of piercing eyes startling Dean.      “You knew, didn’t ya?” he questions, his voice heavy with frustration.      Dean needs a moment to recover, staring up at the cattle worker, but Ash doesn’t grant him that time.      “That whole ‘no need to worry, we’ll figure it out.’ It was bullshit and you know it. Hell, I ain’t surprised if you’re the one who decided that it was my ass to fire.”      There isn’t much Dean can say to that, because it’s true. He did know, he knew for a long time, and yes, it was him who told Bobby it had to be the man who’s standing before him right now.       “We…” Dean pauses to correct himself, because Ash is right; this is on him. “I didn’t have a choice.”       “Oh, but you did. Instead of telling me that things were gonna be A-okay, you could’ve told me what was gonna happen. But no, you were too fucking scared to look me in the eye and tell me the Goddamn truth,” the worker says accusingly.      Dean stares back at him, his jaw flexing, but then he looks away as he swallows down the guilt. He knew those words were going to bite him in the ass. When he straightens himself again, Jo has appeared in the doorway, with Y/N right behind her.      “Ash, we’re all sorry it went down as it did, and we wish it didn’t have to be like this--”      “Then why the fuck do I have to leave?!” he shouts at the daughter of the ranch owner, his eyes noticeably shimmering in the lights above the porch.      Jo isn’t impressed with his anger, on the contrary; she replies professionally calmly.       “I hate to see you go. Shit, we all do. But the ranch isn’t going to survive if Dad doesn’t cut costs,” she reminds him. “There’s barely any cattle left to maintain, and you were hired last.”      “Right. The ‘last in, first out’ rule. Then tell me, what the hell is  she  still doing here?”      Suddenly, the newest crewmember is dragged into the argument as Ash nods at Y/N. Her heart skips a beat when it dawns on her what he holds her accountable for; he thinks she stole his job. Shocked, Y/N looks at the man who directed the focus on her. It’s a side of him she didn’t know he had and is overwhelmed by the accusation, causing her mind to fail miserably when trying to form any kind of response. Feeling helpless and exposed, she glances at the other two, desperate for back up. Thankfully, the head wrangler got the message, because seeing Y/N’s expression change from compassionate to fearful, triggers something inside him.       “Y/N’s an intern,” Dean returns, the tone of his voice colder than a moment ago. “Y/N is still here because she doesn’t cost Bobby anything.”      But Ash disagrees. “She’s another mouth to fill, just like every single one of us. She has a horse here who needs a shit ton of feed--”      “- and she works hard for that,” Dean overrules him, staring him down. “Look, man. I know you’re pissed, I get it. But don’t you put this on her, it ain’t her fault.”       “Are you saying I don’t work hard for my pay?!” Ash snaps back angrily.      “I didn’t say that,” Dean rights, gesturing with a lowering hand to calm down. “I’m saying that down the line, Y/N is a free hand.”

     Ash scoffs at that, biting his lips as he looks away and clenches his fists, his knuckles pressed together in order to manage the exasperation. He’s so hurt and upset that he doesn’t even think about the consequences of the words that follow.       “Oh, she’s a free hand, alright,” he states, shooting the guy opposite of him a penetrating glare.       Jo gapes at Ash, mouth falling open, then turns her head to witness Y/N having the exact same reaction. Dean stares at Ash too, first in astonishment, wondering where he got the nerve to insinuate something like that. Within a second, that emotion is pushed aside by brewing anger. The need to defend her honor causes him to step towards Ash intimidatingly, but Jo gets in between before things escalate.      “Whoa, now! Can we just keep it cool and not get nasty?” she demands, having both Dean and Ash at arm’s length.       But Ash, apparently, isn’t done. “You’ve always been a screw around, man, but shit, I did not expect you to stab me in the back just to get in a girl’s pants,” he sneers, pushing Dean’s buttons and seriously applying for a punch in the face.      “This is fucking bullshit, Ash, and you know it!” Dean counters, so worked up over the allegation that his heart is beating out of his chest.       “Okay, that’s it! If you don’t shut your mouth right now I’m gonna pull out that mullet of yours!” Jo warns Ash before she turns to Dean. “And you need to walk it off, right now!”      The ranch owner’s daughter pushes him back gently in order to raise her finger at him sternly. He steps away, offering a little air to the suffocating clash, and so does Ash.      “Don’t bother, I’ll leave.” He scoffs. “That’s whatcha want, ain’t it?”       The cattle worker turns around, the rage slowly seeping from him, leaving the space for sadness and disappointment to fill. Y/N watches the guy, still mind-blown by all the words that were said, but now that a fight is avoided, she can only feel pity. The blame that he put on her and on Dean is only a response to his world crashing down on him. She cannot really condemn him for lashing out. After ten or more steps, the guy in a dirty shirt and a plaid jacket with the sleeves ripped off turns around. Normally everything about the guy is either hazardous or comical, depending on how well you know him, but not now. Not now that his eyes are glistening in pained emotion.     “This wasn’t just work, y’know. This is my life. This is home,” he says, his arms spread in desperation. “I thought that all of us here - that we were in this together. That we don’t turn our back on family.” He pauses, eyes fixed on Jo, then on Dean. He continues with a broken voice. “Y’all did exactly that.”      With those words, he turns away and heads off to his cattle, like he always does after dinner. Silenced, the three watch him leave, until Dean sighs and looks around lost, as if he hopes to find answers in the earth-colored gravel. He doesn’t look at Y/N, he’s doing everything to avoid her questioning, sympathetic gaze. When the air gets too thin to breathe, he walks away in the direction of the barn, off to his horses. The intern allows her eyes to linger on the defeated figure that becomes smaller as he drags his feet down the worn path to the stables, the grey sky above him that darkens by the minute only adding to the grim atmosphere. Instinctively, Y/N reaches for the handrail of the steps down the porch, intending to follow him, but Jo stops her.      “Let him be for a bit.”      Y/N halts and listens to her friend, then lets a breath slip from her dry lips. “So no one wins today, huh?”     “Nope. Not today,” Jo responds, moving through the doorway after throwing a glance at Ash’s silhouette in the far pasture. “Comin’? I have a bottle of something a-hell-of-a-lot-stronger-than-beer stashed somewhere.”       Y/N huffs and turns to join her. Jo pours her some rum in a jar, which she sips on silently as she looks out the window, watching the day end. But the alcohol cannot wash away her thoughts that are with the two ranch workers: the one who lost his friend, and the one who lost everything else as well.

Told you guys there was gonna be angst? Thank you for reading. I appreciate every single one of you, but if you do want to give me some extra love, you are free to like or reblog my work, shoot me a message or buy me coffee (Link to Kofi in bio at the top of the page).

Read part nine here

[fericita-s]

Vanished (part 3)

Part One Part Two

on AO3

Third installment of four, Rated M, an Agduna Frozen story, amnesia AU. This chapter owes a debt of gratitude to @the-spastic-fantastic​ who pointed out we hadn’t yet let Iduna notice Agnarr with his sleeves rolled up, requested drunk and depressed Agnarr (and added even more devastating details to that scene) and as always did a wonderful job beta-ing and working through this with me.

Part Three

The letter arrived to the Sommerhus before she and Elsa did, Agnarr’s mark in the wax that sealed it together.  Iduna thought he must have written while she was packing clothes and toys, directing which servants were to accompany them.   She had also scribbled off a hasty note to Thea and Linnea inviting them to come visit and putting a cheerful slant on her hurried departure. 

Please come see Elsa and me at the Sommerhus! Agnarr is staying in the palace, royal duties preclude his presence.

Elsa loved the journey north, looking out the window of the carriage and pointing at every new animal and person and house she could see.  “Baa! Sheep! Cow! Moo!” When they arrived at the house, Elsa had craned her neck around each corner as she toddled through, calling “Papa?” Iduna felt the prick of tears in her eyes, and swept them away quickly, before Elsa would see and turn the whole cottage cold with frost in sympathetic worry.

As the servants unloaded the carriage and trunks and the cook set up the pantry and a light meal for dinner, Iduna put Elsa in her crib for a nap and took the letter upstairs.  She settled into an unused bedroom. She couldn’t bring herself to use the room that she and Agnarr had occupied on previous trips.  For having hardly any memories, the ones she did have were certainly plaguing her now.

She expected a quickly jotted note, a “Please forgive me,” or a “Please come home,” or perhaps even a “I am your King, you must do as I command.  Come home now or I’ll take our daughter away from you.” It didn’t seem like him to do that, but then did she truly know him?  After keeping such a big lie, what else could he be hiding?

Instead, the note was two pages of cramped writing, Agnarr’s hand faint in some places and overly strong in others as if he was having trouble controlling his emotions as he wrote.  She put a hand to her cheek as she read, and this time, let her tears fall.

             My Dearest Iduna,

I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness, but I’ll ask for it just the same.  I will write down for you all that I know of you, some in this letter, and more to follow each day.   But if you find that your tastes have changed, know that my love has not. I loved you when we were fourteen.  I loved you still at twenty-four when we pledged ourselves to each other. And I love you now at twenty-six with a child of our own.  I will love you whether or not you remember anything and whether or not you are the same girl with whom I fell in love.  I will love you in this life, and every life, and hope that we can share this one again soon.

Your lips were cold the first time we kissed, almost frozen.  You took me to a spring of water, you told me it was the purest in the whole forest. The water was clear and cold and you said there was legend about it wielding the power of truth.  That those who drank of it would tell their secrets.  You drank first, cupping your hand into the water and bringing it to your mouth.  The water dribbled down your hand and from a corner of your mouth and I was mesmerized by the sight, wanting nothing more than to kiss the spot on your lips that was wet, to take your truth and make it my own.  I dipped my hands in the water and drank too, and said the first thing that came to mind, a truth so basic and fundamental but one I had not said out loud to you before. “I love you." You smiled and said “I love you too.”

I leaned in to kiss you, and the cold water made us both gasp and then laugh.  But soon we had made our own heat and the relief and joy I felt at saying those words and hearing you say them warmed me brighter than the summer sun at noon.  I wish I could tell you if you were nervous or excited or impatient for me to say those words but I don't know. As well as I knew you then, I won't guess at your inmost thoughts and I hope they come back to you someday. But I will tell you mine - and they are that I love you wholly and desperately, that I am so sorry for betraying your trust, that being your husband and the father to our daughter is worth more than this kingdom or any other.  I love you.  You don't ever have to forgive me but I hope you will believe that I love you.

Yours, Agnarr

Iduna folded the letter and got into the bed, letting herself cry for the girl she was and couldn’t remember, and over the husband who knew them both but had kept it from her.

***

Every day, letters came.  Some were as long as the first, some were short. They made her laugh and cry and rage. She might have ignored them altogether, but she was so eager to know about who she was and who they had been. And she hated that she was dependent on him for that.  That he could have told her this a year or two ago and chose not to.

***

My Dearest Iduna,

Your anger is justified, but please know nothing will ever change my love for you and our daughter.                                                                                                                   Yours, Agnarr

***

At the end of the first week, Agnarr arrived and delivered a stack of letters to her in person. She was holding Elsa who squealed and clapped her hands together at the sight of him, and she wiped the tiny icicles that grew from Elsa’s fingers.  Agnarr kissed Iduna on the cheek and whispered urgently in her ear. “Read them alone and burn them when you’re through.”

When she started to read, she knew why they couldn’t be kept.  He had written to her about the Northuldra – the rituals, the legends, the spirits, the names of her family members and what they were like. Songs that he remembered.  Foods she liked to eat. Speculation on how Elsa’s powers might be related to the enchantments of the forest, though it was a unique magic he didn’t think had been seen there before.  He had given her his study of the Northuldra people. 

Having it might get her killed, even as the queen. Lord Hannesel and others still fueled resentment against the Northuldra and there were rumors he was gathering support.  Agnarr had even told the maid who had heard Iduna sing the Northuldra lullaby a carefully concocted story of his remembrance of the tune from a trip there, explaining that he had taught his wife.

She put the stack into the fire but held the last one a bit longer, waiting until all the others were burned before parting with it.

My Dearest Iduna,

Your birthday is September 5th, a time when the leaves in your forest start to change and the colors are so bright it seems like the trees have dressed up to celebrate you. Your mother gave you a shawl at birth with the patterns of the spirits on it.  It wasn’t with us the day we escaped the mist.  

We wrapped it around our hands when we were handfasted.

I was so hopeful we would create peace between our people.  My father had been getting more aggressive and insistent in matchmaking for an alliance with a European nation, angry at my declaration that I would marry you. I thought if we had our own ceremony, just the two of us, and if we had the privilege of creating a new life, it would force him to accept us. We could also create a new and peaceful life for both of our nations.

You took me to a cave and we sat alone. How my hand trembled as you held It.  How comforting it felt to be wrapped up in your shawl, and how impossible it was to imagine my life without you.  It still is.                                                                               Yours, Agnarr

***

At the end of the second week, Thea and Linnea came to visit.  Linnea and Elsa played outside while Thea and Iduna took tea in a private area of the grounds. 

“I’m surprised the king’s not here.  Elias said council meetings were cancelled last week and this week too.  No one has seen him for some time. I half thought I would find him here when we arrived!”

Iduna shook her head.  “No.  He’s been to visit, but not to stay.” She looked at Thea, deciding if she could share the reason why. But if she told her, would she be in danger too? 

For the first time, she understood Agnarr’s decision to keep her identity hidden. But it didn’t give her any relief.

***

“Agnarr.  Ag! Wake up!” Elias entered the king’s bedchambers, waving off the guard and servants. He shut the door behind him and moved to open the tightly drawn curtains.  The sunlight streamed in on a sorry sight.

Agnarr was lying face down on the bed, clad only in trousers.  Elias looked to the heaps of clothing on the floor, the trays of untouched food, full glasses of water, and the two bottles of akvavit uncorked, empty, and lying on their sides.

He sat on the bed next to Agnarr and began slapping the soles of his feet.  “Sit up, Ag.  Get up!”

Agnarr groaned and rolled over, putting an arm over his eyes.  He made a move to sit up, but groaned again instead.

“Thea sent me here.  She visited Iduna this week and could tell something was wrong, though Iduna didn’t say what. She told me to come here and fix whatever it was so her friend won’t be so sad anymore.  So you see? You’re making a liar of me too.  Because I can guess what this is about.  And if I’m right, I won’t be able to tell my wife the truth.  So thanks for that.”

Agnarr remained silent, but managed to move into a sitting position.  He cradled his head in his hands and leaned his elbows on his knees.

Elias’s voice was sharp, his words meant to hurt. “Thea was always talking about how romantic it was, the two of you, and how amazing Iduna told her the…physical aspect of your relationship was.  How intuitive you were.”  He snorted and shook his head.  “And I'll never tell her it's because you've loved Iduna since you were fourteen and were handfasted at twenty-four, and married a whole year before this fiasco began to unfold.”

Agnarr blindly groped for one of the glasses of water, knocking one over but grabbing one next to it.  He drank slowly, eyes closed.

“Did she find out? She knows who she is and she knows you lied about it?”

Agnarr set the glass down and turned to face his friend.  Elias saw the red rimmed eyes, the unshaven cheeks, the sunken look of him.  “I've ruined it. I've ruined us.”  His voice was raw.  “And now she has no one and our child won't know me.  And why should she? A liar and a coward is all I am.  Better fatherless than to have me.”

Elias was silent a moment and then moved to put an arm around his friend.  “What will you do? Is it really beyond fixing?”

Agnarr took a short breath, his breath hitching and his voice held a strange timber as he replied.  “I don’t know.”

“Give her time, Ag.” Elias sighed.  “Keep apologizing and give her time.”

***

He kept writing and at the end of every week he came to the Sommerhus to hand-deliver letters about Northuldra customs and the details of her family in the Enchanted Forest.   Iduna would read them and then burn them as she looked out of the upstairs window as Agnarr and Elsa played outside. Father and daughter would walk through the fields or woods, stopping to inspect interesting insects and beautiful flowers and the feel of a small creek. Iduna could see them from her upstairs window.  She would pause in her reading to see Agnarr with his shirt sleeves rolled up, holding the flowers that Elsa picked or lifting her high onto his shoulders so she could get a better view of a woodpecker.  There were times she wanted to go and hold his hand, to run her fingers along the familiar curve of his forearms she so admired.  But after he read their daughter fairy tales and rocked her to sleep, he slept on the floor in her room on a pile of blankets and cushions.  And, after silently checking in on them, Iduna would retire to the room where she slept alone.

***

My Dearest Iduna,

             My greatest fear, other than harm coming to you or Elsa, is that Elsa’s magic was given to her because I lied to you.  Did the spirits see my actions and give us a child with magic so that I would tell you about your ties to a land so blessed with it? If so, they must want to punish me greatly for failing that twice.  And I want to punish myself.  But Elias, who has known all of this, says it is not helpful.  That I should be patient and contrite.  So I will be.  Because you deserve that and so much more.  Yours, Agnarr  

***

“Happy Birthday, Elsa!” Linnea jumped out of the sled as soon as it pulled up to the Sommerhus.  Elsa waved and Iduna shouted from the front steps.

“It’s so cold! Hurry inside!”

Captain Calder helped his wife down from the sled and then collected a pile of brightly wrapped presents from underneath their seats.  They hurried to the warmth of the house, shucking their coats and hats and mittens and knocking snow from their boots as they came through the door.

“Are Elias and Thea here yet? The roads are treacherous today.”

Iduna took the topmost packages and shook her head. “No, not yet.  But they might have waited on Agnarr to join them.  And I’m sure Elias will ask the driver to go slowly.  He has been so cautious since Thea began to show.”

Linnea took a present from her father’s arms and gave it to Elsa.  “Open this one now! I made it for you!”

Elsa took the package and hugged it to her chest. “Thank you!”

Iduna laughed.  “You’ll have to show her what to do.  She doesn’t know she has to open it.”

Linnea pulled at the ribbon and it fell to the floor, and then pulled at a corner of the wrapping until it ripped.  “Now your turn!”

Elsa looked doubtful about the wisdom of ripping the paper, but did as she was told and soon discovered a fabric doll, with a blue dress, yellow hair, and a small crown on its head.  Elsa hugged it to herself.  “Baby!”

Linnea smiled. “Yes, a babydoll! I made her look like you, only I had to guess at the hair color since you’re still mostly bald.  And I used one of my old dresses for her dress so she is a very fancy baby doll.  Shall we go show her your room?”

They ran upstairs, the other presents on the pile forgotten.  Iduna breathed a sigh of happiness, a tight feeling in her chest at Elsa’s delight, and bent down to pick up the strips of wrapping paper that had scattered on the floor, like bright and cheerful snowflakes.  “She loves it when Linnea comes.  I think she gets lonely here.”

Mrs. Calder tilted her head and looked at Iduna. “Agnarr hasn’t joined you here yet?”

Iduna looked down, looking to where Captain Calder had stacked the remaining presents. “No, it’s been too difficult for him to leave the castle.”  A blush was creeping up her neck and she pressed the wrapping and ribbon into a ball and worried it with her hands.

Mrs. Calder looked to her husband, who cleared his throat and changed the subject. “I’m fairly certain Agnarr was bald for the first two years of his life.  It’s quite common in children with light-colored hair.”

A gust of cold air swept in as Thea, Elias, and Agnarr came inside. “Did I just hear someone call me bald?”

Captain Calder laughed and clapped him on the back.  “Happy birthday to your little one!  Two years old!”

Hugs and greetings were passed around as everyone discussed the snow, the cold, and the delight of celebrating a birthday with the happy royal family. Agnarr and Iduna shared an awkward look, and Agnarr leaned over to kiss Iduna’s cheek in greeting. She stayed very still, hands grasping the ball of paper, unsure if she should respond or not, wishing her body wasn’t longing for more touch from Agnarr, the heat from his kiss making her feel as if the whole room had been warmed.

Thea groaned. “Having children is a blessing, but being pregnant is surely a curse of biblical proportions. Elias, help me take my coat off.”

Mrs. Calder and Elias both helped her, and then ushered her into a chair by the fire and Iduna excused herself to get her a glass of water. She listened to their voices as Captain Calder mused about the state of the roads, Elias wondered whether or not the driver needed help settling the horses in the barn, and Thea and Mrs. Calder decided if it was better to sit close to the fire and prevent a chill or further from it so as not to get overheated.  Iduna smiled, glad to hear the voices of friends, of her family.

“Iduna.”

She turned and saw Agnarr, his hands behind his back. She wished she hadn’t discarded the ball of paper.  Bunching it in her hands to conceal her emotions had felt satisfying in a way holding a glass of water did not. Her heart sped up and she wondered if he had a new letter for her. She wondered if he would kiss her, hug her, hold her, now that the Calders were here to see their interactions.

She wondered if she wanted that.

“I didn’t write a letter this time; with the Calders here, I…”

She nodded in understanding, trying to keep any look of disappointment from her face. Today was for Elsa, not her.  “Of course.”

“But also, with the Calders here I thought we could, if you want to of course, and only if you feel comfortable, we could tell them about your origins.  Elias knows already and I know you think of them as family.  We can trust them. And I don’t think it would endanger them, with Lord Hannesel off the council and public opinion slowly changing.”

“If we can trust them, why didn’t you tell them three years ago?”

A faint redness appeared on Agnarr’s neck and he nodded quickly to her, almost a bow.  “I should have.  I should have told you too. Every day I think about how I could have gone about this all differently.  What I could have done better.  What I could have done right.”

Iduna handed him the glass of water. “Bring this to Linnea? I’ll get the glogg ready for everyone else. I gave the staff the week off since the weather looked to be so bad.  I knew they’d want to be home with their families.”

Agnarr took the offered glass.  “Think about it? You don’t need to give me an answer, now or…you know, ever.  But think about it.”

Their fingers touched as the glass passed between them and Iduna felt a shiver run through her.  She turned quickly so he wouldn’t see the confusion on her face.

Wasn’t she still mad at him for lying to her?

“Yes, I’ll think about it.”

She heard his footsteps and the conversation in the other room growing in volume as his voice was added to it.  She knew she had a lot to think about.  What was easy to ignore while playing with a toddler all day was harder to ignore now. As she poured raisins and almonds to the glogg on the stovetop, the feeling of safety Agnarr’s touch gave had stayed with her.  She did feel safe with him.  He had done all he could to keep her safe, both during the battle and every day after.  He had done all he could to make life safe for Northuldra in Arendelle, whether or not the mist ever opened.  He was a good man, a just king, and a devoted father.  And she could forgive his mistake.

Through his letters she had fallen in love with him in new ways.  Learning all she had lost was a heartbreak, but what she didn’t have to lose was him.

She didn’t have to be without family, either.  The Calders loved her, and would keep loving her even if they knew her past the way Agnarr did.  She could trust them and not shut them out in fear.

***

After a cold walk with Elsa pushing her new baby doll sleigh around the yard, eating cake, and Agnarr playing his violin while Elsa spun and danced in delight, it was time for her to go to bed.  Iduna picked her up and carried her to each guest for a goodnight kiss and then she and Agnarr took her upstairs.

Iduna laid her in her crib and watched as Elsa’s chubby arm slung around the baby doll’s neck, pulling it closer and breathing deeply. Agnarr reached into his violin case and took out a red and purple shawl, soft and trimmed with fringe.  He covered Elsa with it and ran his hand up and down Elsa’s side, humming the tune he had been playing on the violin a few moments before.  She smiled and closed her eyes.  Agnarr straightened.

“That’s my present to her.  And you too, really.  I had a weaver make a shawl like the one your mother gave you when you were born.  I know it’s not the same, but you can tell her about your family and maybe this will help.”

Iduna reached over and ran her hands along it, feeling Elsa’s sleeping body and wishing she could remember being wrapped up in her mother’s shawl, safe and protected, loved and cherished.

“Thank you.”  She looked at him and hoped he could see in the low light that she truly was thankful.  That it was a thoughtful gift that she would treasure and one that proved again how much he valued that part of who she was. She hoped he could tell she wanted to say more but didn’t want to wake their daughter or break this spell of calm and quiet, of understanding and maybe even forgiveness that felt like a shawl around her shoulders.  “And I thought about it.  I think we should tell the Calders. This weekend while they are staying here.  But maybe not tonight.  I’m tired.”

Agnarr nodded.  “Would you like to go to bed now? I can give them your excuses and show them to their rooms if you’re too tired.  I’ll go sleep with the drivers in the guesthouse.”

Iduna stepped towards him and reached for his hand, the same sensation of safety and calm reigning over her as it had earlier in the day, as it did every time they touched. “No.  You can show them their rooms but then come to our bed.” She turned and left the room, heat building in her cheeks and in her stomach and she wasn’t brave enough to look in his eyes and see what he thought about that.

***

“They’re all settled.  And I looked in on Elsa just now - she’s asleep.” He shut the door gently behind him and looked around the room, still not quite sure if Iduna had meant for him to share their bed.  Was it merely for appearances? So they had one less thing to explain to the Calders tomorrow?   He looked around the room, searching for something to say.  Something to break the awkward silence.  “The room is so clean and orderly.  It doesn’t even look like anyone has been staying here.”

Iduna was sitting on the bed, changed into her nightclothes.  “I haven’t been.  I stayed in the room next to Elsa’s.  I didn’t want to stay where we once had.”

“Oh.” He winced, sorry again for how he had hurt her, once more wishing he had made a different choice.

She looked at him and then spoke quickly. “No, I don’t mean that I was angry with you.  I missed you.” She paused and took a breath.  “Well, I was also angry with you. But I didn’t want to be in our bed without you.” She put her hand down next to her on the bed.  “Will you come sit?  I think better when I’m touching you.”

He laughed a little as he came to her and sat down, their thighs touching and her head even with his shoulder.  “I have a hard time thinking when you’re touching me.  Except about how much I want to be touching you.”  She leaned into him, her head on his shoulder.

“When I touch you, it’s almost like remembering.  I know I’m meant to be with you.  That it’s right.”  Agnarr turned his head so he could kiss her on the top of her head.  He brought his hand up and ran it through her long hair.  It was unwound from the neat crown braids she usually wore as queen and reminded him of the way it had been in the forest.

“Your hair was like this when I first met you. Down and a little wild.  Wavy and dark and beautiful.  I was staring so much at how it moved in the wind that I fell into the river because I wasn’t looking at how close I was to the bank.”

Iduna laughed. “You didn’t write about that in any letters!”

He brought his hand to her shoulder, running it up and down her arm.  “Some things were too embarrassing to commit to paper.”

Iduna reached to his face and cupped her hand around his cheek.  She ran her thumb over his mustache, back and forth and back and forth, like she was soothing his worry. “Thank you for giving me all of those memories.  And for all of the ones here in Arendelle that I can recall – being your queen, being the mother of our daughter, knowing the Calders.  That’s all thanks to you.”

His hand stilled. “Iduna, I’m so sorry.  Truly.”

She stood and nudged his knees apart to stand between them and then brought both hands up to this face. “I forgive you.  And I love you.”

He gripped her under the thighs and lifted her up so she was seated on his lap, chests pressed against each other and her legs around him. He buried his face into her chest but she could still hear his whisper. “I certainly don’t deserve it.  But I love you too. I wish I had the words to tell you how much.”

She leaned to his ear, kissing it on the lobe and shivering at the feel of his hands on her back, the movement of his hips into hers. “It’s not your words I want right now.”

***

The Calders didn’t seem surprised or upset to hear that Iduna was Northuldra. Captain Calder even suggested that they tell the council.  “They, like everyone else in the kingdom, love the queen.  And they will see it as a chance to strengthen the statement of peace: naming the queen as Northuldra and your marriage as an alliance that respects and honors their people.”

Mrs. Calder hugged Iduna tightly. “Our love for you has not changed.  Perhaps richer now for the truth of things, but not changed.”

“It makes sense.” Linnea spoke as she reached to pick Elsa up out of Iduna’s lap. “Is that why Elsa can make ice?”

The adults in the room all stared at her. Her mother spoke first.  “She can…do what?”

Agnarr cleared his throat.  “Yes, it seems she can make ice.  And snow as well.  But it’s not a known gift among the Northuldra and we don’t know what it means.  We don’t know if the power will strengthen or fade as time goes on and she grows up.”

Thea reached to take Elsa from Linnea.  “Show us, Elsa, dear.  Show us the snow.”

And Elsa did.

[recentanimenews]

IN-DEPTH: How The God of High School Revealed the True, Weird History of Taekwondo

  If, like me, you found yourself yearning for some physical activity and breaks from the tedium of schoolwork as a kid, you might have found yourself wanting to learn some martial arts. Watching action stars like Jackie Chan and Bruce Lee, as well as anime, playing fighting games and more, left me with an interest in learning a martial art myself. I found myself at the door of a local Taekwondo school and was instantly hooked. Sadly, like many things, time and obligations got in the way and I had to give up my pursuit of martial arts, but I always found the subject interesting. When I started reading The God of High School, I was instantly hooked by the idea that Jin Mori used Taekwondo, but suddenly, I found myself questioning things: What did they mean, that there were multiple types of Taekwondo? Wasn’t all Taekwondo the same? What was “Renewal Taekwondo” and was it a real thing? The answer to that question is... sort of. Also: There are some light spoilers here! Be warned!

    In The God of High School, the revelation that Jin practices “Renewal Taekwondo” serves as a shock to the cast, particularly the Judges and Park Mujin, as it reveals the fact that Jin’s grandfather, Jin Taejin, was not only still alive, but that he had passed on the incredibly powerful skills of Renewal Taekwondo to someone else. At this point in the anime, the reveal has played out far differently, although there’s no telling whether this might change as the anime progresses. We do know that Jin uses Renewal Taekwondo, but we don’t get the same backstory and discussion revolving around Jin’s grandfather, and the past regarding Taekwondo itself. In the WEBTOON series, Park Mujin reveals that “Renewal Taekwondo” was created by South Korean leaders following a defeat at the hands of North Korean “ITF” Taekwondo. And, suddenly, my childhood came back to me: I had learned “WT” Taekwondo, so what was “ITF?” Was it just something the web comic made up, like “Renewal Taekwondo?” As it turns out, this particular rabbit hole went a whole lot deeper, and weirder, than I ever imagined. 

    Perhaps the first, and most shocking, fact regarding Taekwondo is that it is less than 100 years old. Many historians agree there is some fluidity to a solid date, but as 4th Dan David Lo notes, Taekwondo likely began formally in 1955, when General Choi Hong-Hi named it after developing the first basic forms of the martial art. While many other popular martial arts, such as Karate, Tai Chi, or Kung-Fu often discuss their proud, long lineages, Taekwondo is often mistakenly assumed to be ancient; in fact, it is only perhaps somewhat related to Taekkyeon, which was nearly wiped out during Japanese occupation. After World War II, the Japanese occupation of Korea came to an end. During the occupation, Japan was particularly cruel to Koreans, suppressing their language, culture, and identity — extending this treatment to martial arts practitioners were forced to quit or go into hiding while Japanese Karate was taught instead. Taekwondo would come from the confluence of various martial arts, having more in common with Karate, mostly due to the violent banning of Korean culture. 

  Combining their knowledge with new techniques in Shotokan karate, Kung-Fu, and others, would begin to create schools, or “Kwans,” which would give rise to what we today recognize as Taekwondo. Scott Shaw, one of the eminent English authors and students of Taekwondo, explains the genealogy of the first 5, and subsequent 4, Kwans; these Kwans were fairly diverse, with nine divergent approaches and teachers developing their own takes on martial arts. In many cases, historians consider Song Moo Kwan the Kwan most responsible for eventual Taekwondo, with Byung Jik Ro called by some as the “father” of “modern” Taekwondo (more on that later) the original five Kwans — Song Moo Kwan, Chung Do Kwan, Moo Duk Kwan, Ji Do Kwan, and Chang Moo Kwan — were the birthplace of Taekwondo, but it would take another war, and social and cultural upheaval for Taekwondo to really emerge.

    Song Moo Kwan and Chung Do Kwan were founded in 1944, with the other 5 founding Kwans appearing in the following 2 years. If we start Taekwondo’s timeline there, that means Taekwondo is only 76 years old (meaning there’s a good chance your grandparents might actually be older than Taekwondo!), but the “real” birth of Taekwondo would come a fair bit after these Kwans were founded. For that to happen, Korea would be forced into another protracted battle that would decide the course of its modern fate, and the dispersal of Taekwondo to the rest of the world: The Korean War. 

  Separating the country along the 38th parallel into what are today known as North Korea and South Korea, this civil war shaped Korea’s modern history in cataclysmic ways, separating family members, friends, and cultural identity. Like many aspects of Korean life, Taekwondo found itself straddling an uncomfortable and unclear line: The original Kwans were spread out across the Korean peninsula, with Song Moo Kwan being in what would now be North Korea. Following the Korean war, this would lead perhaps the most controversial figure in Taekwondo history to emerge: General Choi Hong Hi, the true “father” of Taekwondo.

    Alex Gillis' A Killing Art reveals the life, warts and all, of General Choi. Born in 1918 in Hwa Dae (located in now North Korea), General Choi Hong Hi was sent to Japan by his father to study, ending up in the tutelage of Han Il Dong, a master of Taekkyeon, one of Korea’s oldest martial arts. Forced into military service by the Japanese, Choi would eventually find himself continuing to serve in the Korean military following the end of World War II and Japanese occupation, earning the title of major general in 1954 (and thus earning him both his title and nickname, “The general”). 

  Choi’s mastery of Taekkyeon and Shotokan karate led him to develop what he titled “Taekwon-Do,” or “foot, fist, art.” Choi is, as far as historians can tell, the first person to use the word “Taekwondo,” and rightfully seems to deserve the title. The controversy, however, comes from the disagreements between Choi (who, some authors note, was somewhat disagreeable and even deceptive) and other Kwan leaders and Taekwondo practitioners. This would lead to the eventual creation, and split, of Taekwondo into ITF and WT schools, among many other offshoots.

    Whether Choi was or wasn’t a deceptive and deceitful person seems to be based on who you ask, and the most common perception of him was that he was complicated (as are we all). What authors and historians such as Lo, Gillis, Shaw, and others agree on is that without General Choi, there would be no Taekwondo, and the subsequent power struggle nearly destroyed, as Lo calls it, the “family” of Taekwondo. While it is perhaps more palatable to consider martial arts as monastic and scholarly, the reality is that they are practiced, created, and influenced by people, and Taekwondo’s somewhat ugly and public schism is a great reminder of this. Choi originally founded the ITF, or International Taekwon-Do Federation, in 1966; however, Choi’s attempts to control all aspects of Taekwon-Do, and the South Korean government’s insistence on “owning” Taekwondo, would create the split that saw Choi flee from Korea to Canada and South Korea creating the KTA (Korean Taekwondo Association), which would eventually give way to the World Taekwondo Federation (WTF, now known as WT), under the governing body of the Kukkiwon. 

  In the ITF version of this story, Choi simply decided to go “on tour” in 1959, before eventually creating the ITF in 1966. The WT version of the story is just as revisionist, claiming that Taekwondo has roots that supposedly go back 2000 years and that the WT was created in 1973 as the first governing body of Taekwondo. No mention of Choi or the ITF exists in the WT version of Taekwondo. Udo Moening, author of numerous papers about Taekwondo’s cultural and social significance, helps explain the disparity between these two stories by noting that Taekwondo is as much an object of political importance to the identity of Korea as it is a form of martial skill and discipline. Simply put, Moening argues, Taekwondo became a piece of the struggle for identity between South Korea and North Korea, and the eventual race to Olympic recognition would become a major victory in this battle for the WT and South Korea. 

    The schism in Taekwondo (or Taekwon-Do, in ITF’s usage) is perhaps even more interesting in the sense that one did not immediately replace the other; instead of the WT supplanting the ITF, the two schools of Taekwondo went about their own paths. Yet, Kukkiwon managed to obtain a significant victory over Choi and ITF Taekwondo: inclusion in the Olympics. In 1982, Kukkiwon was able to arrange a demonstration of Taekwondo for the IOC in 1988 and became an official event during the Asian Games in 1986. In 1994, Kukkiwon “won” the competition for Taekwondo legitimacy by being selected by the IOC as an official sport of the Olympics, joining Judo as the only other Asian martial art in the Olympic games, and debuting in the 2000 games in Australia. 

  Choi, however, had won in another way: his ITF Taekwondo spread across the world, and his somewhat ingenious method of sending Taekwondo “acolytes” to various places to form their own schools helped make Taekwondo popular and profitable. There are other forms of Taekwondo out there, including ATA (American Taekwondo Association), Jhoon Rhee Style, and the GTF (Global Taekwondo Federation), a split from ITF. Chuck Norris, during the height of his popularity in the '90s, even formed his own school that blended Tang Soo Do and Taekwondo called Chun Kuk Do!

    While Choi was successful in spreading Taekwondo around the globe, and South Korea was able to claim “ownership” of the sport through political engineering and historical revision, Taekwondo in the United States would owe much of its growth and popularity to a different individual: Jhoon Rhee. Rhee, learning Taekwondo at the Chung Do Kwan in his childhood, came to America in the '60s to study engineering. Needing some extra money, Rhee began teaching Taekwondo, and through luck and hard work, launched the popularity of the martial art in the United States via television and Hollywood. Like all good and weird success stories, Rhee gained fame from his “viral” '70s commercial jingle, written by Nils Lofgren, guitarist for Bruce Springsteen’s E Street Band! 

  Rhee’s unconventional approach to success worked, taking his Taekwondo to both of America’s hearts: Hollywood and Washington DC. Rhee would go on to teach and demonstrate Taekwondo to various celebrities including Chuck Norris and Bruce Lee — even writing a book, Bruce Lee and I, in 2011. He also met with President Reagan and famously demonstrated Taekwondo to the United States Congress in 1965. There was even a sparring match between Republicans and Democrats! 

    But what do all of these different types of Taekwondo actually mean? When I was practicing, did I learn “the wrong” type? Well, the answer is… no! The major difference in schools seems to come down to forms, ranks, and some other small administrative differences — such as who can spar, and why, or what types of focus there is in learning Taekwondo in general. Perhaps due to the odd nature of Taekwondo’s spread outside of Korea, the sport is also highly “commercial;” the ATA and Jhoon Rhee schools, for example, were founded on the idea of both teaching the sport and also establishing chain schools that would funnel profits back to the original founders, essentially creating a business instead of the somewhat monastic idea of a martial art like the Kung-Fu or Karate that appear in movies and media. 

  As noted by Doug Cook, the forms, of Poomsae, are constantly changing, due in part to the various types and hybrids of Taekwondo, but also due to the somewhat infant nature of the sport compared to other forms. It would be hard, as many authors point out, to find a “true” strain of Taekwondo these days. Instead, the various approaches, forms, and inherent teachings all help create different, unique ideas of the original created by Choi in the '50s — itself a hybrid of various types of martial arts.

    It's fairly common in martial arts stories to hear epic tales of the history and longevity of a martial art, but Taekwondo provides us with the unique and interesting experience of seeing that historical mythology evolve in real time. From the controversial Choi to the roots of the Korean search for identity following Japanese occupation and later civil war, Taekwondo serves as a mirror for Korea’s own evolution. While Taekwondo may not be an “ancient” form of martial arts, it is a uniquely Korean one, and one that has a complex history and personality, and thanks to The God of High School, I found myself falling into the rabbit hole of its story. “Reclamation” Taekwondo may not actually exist, but in many ways, Taekwondo was a form of reclamation for Korea: an attempt to create something new and unique in the face of years of brutal occupational rule and civil strife. 

Did you know about the history of Taekwondo? What's your favorite style to practice? Let us know, and while you're at it, tell us your current fave WEBTOON series in the comments!  

➡️ Watch The God of High School today! ⬅️  

    Nicole is a frequent wordsmith for Crunchyroll. Known for punching dudes in Yakuza games on her Twitch channel while professing her love for Majima. She also has a blog, Figuratively Speaking. Follow her on Twitter: @ellyberries. Here's that serotonin you ordered.

  Do you love writing? Do you love anime? If you have an idea for a features story, pitch it to Crunchyroll Features!

By: news+feed@crunchyroll.com

[this-song-thats-only-for-you]

A Not So Secret Affection - (Puppy Week Collab)

Summary: Hyungwon was distant with your new puppy, but you were determined to change that.

Pairing: Chae Hyungwon x reader

Genre: puppy au / fluff

Warnings: none

A/N: Day 5 of puppies and a not so certain Hyungwon. I hope you’re all enjoying the collab @goodnightkisseu , @prettywordsyouleft and I have made together.

Word count: 1,181

[Puppy Week Masterlist]

  “I wonder how much longer he is going to be.” You asked somehow expecting an answer as your eyes washed over the fluffy pomeranian playing beside you on the lounge room floor. He was a little ball of energy as he continued to run around carrying a chew toy with him. Smiling at the puppy’s antics it distracted you from the bundle of nerves that were growing inside your stomach. It wasn’t a secret that you and Hyungwon were planning on expanding your family in the near future; you were unsure however on how he would handle it happening sooner than expected.

Suddenly you heard the rattle of keys in the front door, your eyes growing large as you quickly scooped up the puppy in your arms and made your way towards the door.

“What’s going on?”  Hyungwon asked, his eyes looking over to you skeptically as they landed on the puppy in your arms. “What’s that Y/N?”

“This is Moo.”

“Moo?”

You nodded, moving closer “Our new puppy. Here you take him.” You placed Moo in his arms before he could refuse “You look so cute together!” you announced, the adoration filling your features as you placed your hand to your heart.

Hyungwon, however, was the complete opposite. His body tensed up the moment you put Moo in his arms, his breath caught in his throat as if moving would somehow disturb him. He held Moo at arm's length as he continued to wriggle around in his arms, trying to get closer to his face.

“Nice Moo.” His voice shakily addressed him, an unsure chuckle leaving his lips a moment later.

“Do you want me to-?”

“That’s a great idea. I think I’ll go wash up for dinner.”  Hyungwon all but threw Moo back into your arms, unable to escape the room fast enough. You stared at his retreating figure unable to understand his reaction.

“I think we will need to work on Daddy a bit more, don’t you Moo?”  You announced, patting the dog comfortingly, a little bark leaving his mouth at the gesture.

 The next few weeks were spent in the same manner. Every time the three of you were together Hyungwon would be a little stand-offish with Moo, putting it down to not feeling well or being too busy to be cooped up with the puppy for too long. Maybe you had been mistaken when the two of you discussed getting a dog together; if this was how he was going to react, why even consider it? You were sure that there had to be another reason for his behavior, he had always told you of the stories of his family dog growing up, and his need for another with the family the two of you were creating.

You’d decided to take matters into your own hands. Picking up your handbag and keys, you headed to the front door “I’m going out.”

“What about Moo?”

Hyungwon perked up, his head leaning over the couch in your direction, panic flashing on his face at the thought of being left alone with Moo.

“I have a few errands to run and the two of you could use some bonding time.”

“But…” his voice trailed off as he turned to look at Moo, who was currently sitting curled up on his bed.

“No excuses. Have fun. Bye Moo.” You called out, waving at the pair as you shut the door behind you.

Moo stirred at his name being called, barking softly once before he turned to face Hyungwon, his head tilted slightly to the side.

“So it’s just you and me.”

It wasn’t that Hyungwon didn’t like Moo, he was just so set in his ways, in his life with you that now having someone else who relied on him was a little unnerving. He hadn’t been around animals much in his adult life, that he felt as though he was forgetting how to act around them. It was certainly clear with how he had been acting in recent weeks. He knew that you had planned this alone time, wanting both your boys to get along. He sat there simply watching the puppy as a new resolve set in.

“What should we do Moo? Are you hungry?”

The puppy barked in response causing a smile to break out on Hyungwons face.

“Alright then, let’s see what we have.”

An hour later and the atmosphere from earlier on had vanished.  Hyungwon sat on the floor, rolling around with Moo as he barked and leaped all over him, his own laughter filling the apartment.

“You’re not so bad now are you?” he cooed smiling down at the Pomeranian who stopped attacking the chew toy currently in his mouth.

“Come on.” Hyungwon patted his thigh gently, indicating for Moo to join him. He barked once before picking up the chew toy and bringing it with him, promptly jumping into his lap a moment later and making himself comfortable.

“Good boy. Maybe we should clean up before Mummy’s home?” Patting Moo he eyed the disarray that now covered the lounge room floor, dog toys in all corners of the room. “Let’s go. You can help me.” He laughed, Moo giving him an incredulous look before picking him up in one arm and starting to collect the toys with the other.

Just as Hyungwon was almost finished tidying the apartment he spotted what looked like a white t-shirt. “What’s this?” picking it up and on further inspection, he noticed it was a tiny dog costume, a starbucks logo on the back.

“Is this yours? You want it on?”  Moo began barking animatedly. “Okay, okay, let me get it on you.”

Struggling with keeping the puppy still he finally got the costume on, the Pomeranian looking rather proud of himself in his new clothes as he ran around Hyungwons feet.

“Don’t you look cute.” He laughed, pulling his phone out of his back pocket to document the moment. Laying down on the couch he picked Moo up, placing him on his chest. Moo wasted no time in finding a comfortable position, nuzzling Hyungwons hand as he started patting him softly.

 When you arrived home the sight before you was something you were not expecting. You placed your handbag and keys down softly on the kitchen bench as you made your way across the carpet quietly, not wanting to wake the pair now sleeping soundly on the couch. You couldn’t help but giggle at the sight before you. Moo was cuddled into Hyungwon closely, his arm wrapped around him. Moving his legs you sat down beside the pair, your heart bursting with adoration.

“Hey, when did you get home?” a husky voice asked.

“Just now. Did my boys have a good day?”

“Mhm. We did. You?” Hyungwon asked, moving to sit up next to you, waking Moo in the process. The puppy stretched his little legs and yawned before moving to your lap, Hyungwon wrapping his arm around your shoulders.

You nodded lightly as you reached over to peck him on the lips. “I have now.”

[jimvasta]

Boys Weekend

Herb isn’t gay, he knows he isn’t. Then Steph joins the boys weekend, suddenly Herb isn’t so certain.

Beer in hand, burgers cooking on the barbecue and friends talking shit while they lounged on the comfortable sofas on the terrace. This was exactly how a good boys weekend began and Herb was absolutely content.

He prodded a burger speculatively before taking a swig of beer. He glowered at the bottle. Almost content.

There was barely time to sigh and set the empty bottle down before another was waved in front of his face. Herb turned.

“I was sent to ask after food.” the newcomer smiled as his offering was accepted.

“And you brought beer. I like you, you can come again.” Herb took a drink. “But the food is nowhere near done. The burgers aren’t mooing but vet might give them an even chance.”

“Maybe we should ask one.” the newcomer whistled. “Hey, Lee, these guys savable or are they over the rainbow bridge?”

The vet took his time getting up, he was enjoying the rest and reluctant to move. “I’d only try saving them if their owner looked rich enough to afford the bill. Those cows are over the bridge and mulching finest celestial silage.”

“Thus speaketh the vet.” Herb said before another long drag from the bottle. Why he always got put in charge of the food he did not know, he normally ended up burning it or forgetting it entirely and forcing someone else to finish the cooking duty. Maybe the others only gave it to him for the amusement value. “So, Steph, no offence and thanks for the beer, but how did you end up joining the boys weekend? We haven’t had any new recruits for a while.”

Steph pointed. “I had the misfortune of going to school with your helpful vet. He found out I was in the area again and told me to bring beer.”

“In the area again? Where have you been? Please don’t say prison.”

“I know our school was bad but it wasn’t that bad. I’ve been doing long-distance haulage for a while, but it’s not all it’s made out to be, I like the idea of having a proper bed to sleep in every night so I’ve changed jobs. I might even be able to find someone if I stay still long enough.”

“You might need a face transplant first.” the vet laughed as he dropped back into his seat. “I can give you a good deal, I might have a spare pug face in the freezer.”

“Go stick your head in a cow’s arse, isn’t that how you like to keep warm?”

Herb could not help but laugh as the vet threw an empty can across the terrace and the argument went from insults to ridicule with just enough undertone of mirth to believe the police would not have to be called.

Then it all stopped abruptly as Steph leaned over to take the fork from Herb’s hand and prod the burgers. “They’re done now.”

“Are you sure?”

Steph smiled softly. “Trust me.”

Maybe it was all the beer, but Herb decided to trust Steph and soon they were all enjoying the perfectly cooked meat which was a world away from the cremated offerings they normally endured on their weekends away.

Four beers and two burgers later, Herb found himself at the fridge getting more snacks for his hungry friends after being the last to finish his drink and being shamed into moving from his comfortable spot by the fire.

“Beers don’t last long here. You’ve got thirsty friends.”

Herb froze as the speaker leaned over him to get some bottles from the fridge.

“But they’re decent, you’ve all welcomed me fine.” Steph leaned back against the table.

“We do our best.” Herb responded as he closed the fridge, putting the snacks on the counter behind him. “If you’ve put up with Lee since school it’s the least we can do.”

“He’s alright really. He acts like an arsehole sometimes but he stood up for me when I was getting bullied so I’ll forgive him when he’s being an idiot, his heart’s in the right place.”

Herb had to acknowledge that one. “When I split up with my ex he helped me drown my sorrows. I had a two-day hangover.”

“He didn’t do shots with you, did he?”

“Yep.”

Steph pulled a face. “He did that when I left my ex. It hurt.” then he fixed Herb with a look. “But I think he’s decided we’re both due a new relationship about now.”

“It won’t happen this weekend.” Herb shook his head. “Boy only, no girls allowed, it’s one of the big rules.”

“That’s not a problem for me.” Steph grinned. “It might not be a problem for you either.”

There was a pause from Herb before he found his voice. “Erm, I’m not sure what Lee said to you but,”

“I know, I’m the only gay in the village.” there was a depreciative shrug. “And I normally wouldn’t even go there, but you can’t blame a guy for trying when you’re so gorgeous.”

Herb’s cheeks burned red. “I, er,” he cleared his throat and tried again. “I know a compliment when I hear one and I’m not going to turn it down but, I-” he trailed off as Steph moved forward, brushing by him as he reached towards the snacks. “I not-”

“Are you sure?” Steph asked softly, not moving away.

The shiver came on suddenly, as goosebumps rose on his arms. Herb found himself staring at Steph’s mouth as the man chewed his lower lip. He shook his head. “No, no, I’m not gay. I’m not, I’ve never even-”

“Never even thought about it?” Steph finished the sentence with a whisper.

“No.”

“Liar.”

Those lips were tempting. They should not have been, but Herb could focus on nothing else.

Waking up after a heavy night of drinking was always reluctant, but this time the hangover was only mild. Herb rolled over, he had a double bed all to himself and he was spread out taking as much of the space as possible. As he opened his eyes he frowned. Why did he think there should be someone else in the bed? What was the blue packet on the bedside table?

He stared at it for long seconds before the answer arrived. It was an empty condom wrapper.

This was a boys' weekend. No girls allowed.

“Oh, shit.” It was more than a vivid wet dream. “Steph?”

Silence.

Herb jumped out of bed.

Only his clothes were on the floor and there was no one in the en-suite bathroom.

He threw on his clothes and raced out of the room

Everyone was in the kitchen already and Steph was in charge of the hob. Something was sizzling, it smelled like bacon, and that smell mingled with a strong batch of coffee.

“Morning, sleepy-head. Last one up buys the first round, you know the rules.” Lee’s greeting was casual.

Herb ignored the greeting, staring at Steph.

Steph smiled warmly. “I was going to get you breakfast in bed, but I got press-ganged into cooking for everyone.”

“I-” Herb found himself tongue tied once again. There was no way anyone could have missed what happened the night before. If they had not noticed it then, they would be far from oblivious to the looks being exchanged between them now. “I really need a coffee.”

Max was stood next to the coffee pot, so he poured a mug and passed it over. After several years of these meetings, he knew Herb took his black when he was hungover.

“Thanks.” Herb mumbled. Giving Steph a long look before escaping to the terrace in a rush.

He leaned against the railing, looking over the lake behind their generous cabin, not seeing any of the ducks swimming towards him in hope of bread. He stayed there until a hand on his waist made him jump.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to surprise you.”

Herb closed his eyes. “What happened last night?”

“You don’t remember?” Steph’s tone was worried as he asked the question slowly. “I didn’t think you were that drunk if I thought you were I wouldn’t have-”

“I remember what happened. I just, I don’t know why it happened.”

Steph sighed. “Because you’d had a couple of drinks and you were up for an experiment.” The euphoria of finding a new man was short-lived. Once again he thought he was doing the right thing only to have screwed it up. “That’s fine, I should have known better than to flirt with a hetero. I’ll get my stuff and go home, it’ll be less awkward than me hanging around.” Shoulders slumped, he turned away, only to feel a hand on his shoulder.

“Wait, that’s not what I meant.” Herb was uncertain but he was unready for Steph to walk away. “Maybe it was an experiment. Maybe I’m not done experimenting yet.”

“I can’t be just a dirty weekend secret, that’s not fair.” Steph turned back as he objected.

“If you think for a second,” as he spoke, Herb took Steph’s hands. “That everyone inside doesn’t already know exactly where you spent the night, you are seriously kidding yourself. We are going to get so much shit from these guys it’s going to be unreal and there is no way it’ll stay a secret.”

“What? First, they were fine with me when I arrived and started cooking breakfast. Second, I know the boy’s weekend rules, what happens on the weekend, stays on the weekend.”

“They’ve got no problem with you being gay, but you can bet they’ll spend the next two days taking the piss out of me non-stop. I’m the most red-blood heterosexual male in the group, I’ve never so much as thought of looking at a man that way before, but suddenly you turn up and a few hours later I’m gay as hell. Whatever potion you slipped into my drink, it’s still working.”

Steph glanced towards the kitchen. “Um, they’re watching us. Lee and the others are looking out of the window.”

“No, shit, they’re a bunch of wind up merchants, they need ammunition.”

“And we’re holding hands.”

“Yes, we are.”

“You’re taking this really well.”

Herb’s grip tightened. “I’m not. I’m taking it really badly, I am absolutely bricking it. I have no idea what’s going on or what you’ve done to me.”

“But you’re really calm.” Steph was confused. The man of his dreams was holding his hands, standing so close their chests almost touched and staring into his eyes as they talked, while saying he was frightened but showing none of it.

“I’m half an inch from losing my shit. If you hadn’t come after me I’d be in the car halfway home by now.”

“Aww,” Steph threw his arms around Herb, pulling him into a hug. “I thought you were a wolf, but you’re such a teddy bear.”

“I have no idea what that means, I hope it’s a compliment.”

Steph laughed. “It is.”

It was only a few seconds before the patio door was opened and there was a shout from Lee. “Put him down, the bacon’s burning!”

Herb grumbled as he lowered his arms. “You better go, they’re worse cooks than me.”

“Are you coming in?”

“After I’ve just come out?” Herb asked flatly.

Steph blinked. “Did you just-?”

Herb winked.

Steph led the way back inside with Herb trailing behind, one hand still holding Steph’s.

There were so many conflicting thoughts in Herb’s mind. After all this time thinking he was straight, was he really gay? What was the other one? The one for people who liked men and women? Was it Bi? Was he just experimenting? There was something about Steph, an instant attraction, he could not look away. Whatever it was, he had a lot to learn and he hoped Steph would be a patient teacher.

“And the award for the most surprising couple goes to,” Lee announced as they walked through the door. “Max and the amusement park dolphin he spent most of last night cuddling.”

“You bastard.” Max groaned. He was usually one of the first to fall asleep while the others continued to drink and it was far from the first time they thought it funny to put something beside him and take photos.

“And I have the evidence.” Lee raised his phone. Then he turned his attention to Herb as Steph dealt with the breakfast. “As for you two, I mean you’re both absolute disasters, so you’re probably made for each other.”

Steph smiled as he stacked bacon onto a plate, the words from one of his oldest friends were not unexpected.

Herb could only stare. “Is that the best you can come up with?”

“I’m just warming up,” Lee replied. “I’ve known about Steph’s dumb gay arse since before we did our GCSEs but I thought I knew you better. We should have put Grindr on your phone instead of just Tinder. We’ve missed out on some quality opportunities and I am really disappointed about that.”

“You should have brought Steph to a boys weekend sooner, shouldn’t you.”

“Especially since he can actually cook.” the rare opinion of Mark was issued through a mouthful of food. Everyone else could make a fuss over the whole gay reveal, but he had more pressing priorities and they involved a full English breakfast with plenty of ketchup.

[r-ahh-mi]

Oh Baby, You.

An Epilogue to the ‘You Got What I Need’ Series.

Part One II Part Two II Part Three II Part Four II Part Five II Part Six

Warnings: Light Smut, Light Angst, Loads of Fluff Word Count: 6.4k

A/N: Hi all! Just a reminder, I will be writing a Prologue to this series as well, which will highlight how Rami & Reader came into this funky FWB situation. Hope you enjoy this little ending to the series & thanks for reading xx

“I know it isn’t your weekend to have them, but I have a raging migraine right now and-”

“You don’t need to explain Y/N, i’m on my way.”

He was so understanding, but then again when wasn’t he? Always compassionate and thoughtful and attempting to see the best in everyone -- including in me. He always, always, always tried to see me out for the better, even when I didn’t deserve it and for that, I am truly grateful. Even more importantly, I am elated that he looked past my faults and past mistakes and decided to keep a healthy relationship with the mother of his children. 

Although we broke up shortly after receiving news of the twins, we made it work. He was there every step of the way through out my pregnancy and was the best father that I could have asked for. Take now for instance, it is my time to have the twins and here he was, without hesitation, rushing over to watch them so I could have a mere moment to rest and gather myself while this massive migraine decided to rain down on me out of nowhere.

I missed him, but then again I did very often..and when I say I miss him I don’t a simple, ‘oh i haven’t seen you in awhile’, type of feeling, I mean I missed him as in when he was mine. Whenever he’d come by to pick up the twins, I always made sure I looked my best; applying makeup, doing my hair, getting on a cute, yet appropriate outfit to wear while lounging around the house. Making an effort for him was the least I could do and, although I know he had his share of partners since we had parted ways romantically, I still held on to him and that tiny idea that we would find each other.

Embarrassingly thinking about the ‘what if’ for our future, way too often, but it was something I couldn’t help. I hadn’t realized it at the time, but in present time it is clear to see that I loved him way back then and although things got fuzzy, mainly me making said things fuzzy, we still always made it work somehow. He dropped out of a movie so I could take on an acting role, and me doing vice versus for him as well and somehow, everything was working for us right now.

Even now, the harsh screams of our two year old’s running a muck through out the condo was something that I was usually just fine with, but today my head was throbbing and begging to be left in a dark room with utter silence and, when you have a boy and a girl, both in the toddler age group, then silence and darkness are nowhere to be found.

I decided on a seated position on my living room floor as the twins walked back and forth, showing me their prized animal toys as I quizzed them on the names and sounds that the animals made. Thankfully, Rami lived a short distance away and I heard his pounding feet coming down the hall in less than 15 minutes while the kids were doing their best ‘moo’ and ‘oink’ sounds.

As the door opened, our children greeted Rami with squeals as their, newly accustomed to running, legs pounded over to him and hugged either of his calves -- a sight that always made my heart soar. Not to mention it was summertime, making Rami’s skin much darker and his hair pitch black as a grey fitted t shirt hugged his torso so well, a little too well for his ex girlfriend and ‘baby mama’ to handle. Regardless, he looked good, very, very good.

This instantly made me size myself up. In the thick of my pain, I hadn’t even remembered to put at least some sort of effort into my appearance..but hey, at least I had a matching short and shirt pajama combo on..that was good for something right? Meanwhile, he was dressed like a casual Greek god with a leather jacket slung lightly over one of his shoulders as he swooped up our two children in his arms as they both hugged him tightly and repeated ‘daddy’ to him as a way of showing their admiration and excitement to be seeing him.

For the first couple minutes he paid sole attention to our children, something I adored watching, as he asked them how they were, what they had been up to, and returning the conversation to his day and how much he missed them. However, they would eventually want to be set down on the floor, no doubt, so they could run around in a destructive prance and then would Rami turn his attention to me and this time was no different.

“You look tired”, Rami said as he eyed up my form, probably wondering how on earth he could’ve let a walking disaster, much like myself, see him naked once before.

“Ya know, saying ‘you look tired’ to someone is just a nice way of saying ‘you look terrible’.”

“Hey”, he threw his hands up defensively, “I never said that. You look fine for someone who has a migraine, not to mention someone whose popped out two kids.”

I didn’t reply to his attempt at swooning me, but rather just sent him a smirk as I turned around and walked towards my kitchen. Thankfully, this gave me plenty of time to wipe the redness from my blushed cheeks.

He always did this. This sort of flirty banter, but nothing ever came of it, no matter how much I wanted it to. Even though our time as a labeled relationship was short, make that 24 hours kind of short, I still devoured and treasured every minute that I could of it and still longed for the time I would potentially be able to call him mine again. Although, that was much too far fetched; i knew that much was true.

I heard Rami follow behind me as  two pairs of feet came thumping directly behind him, not to mention a few giggles accompanied with the little symphony our toddlers were creating. Our little girl ran directly into my shin, gazing up at me as she lifted both of her arms high up in the air.

“Up?”, I questioned her as she nodded her small bed of brown curls with a smile while I shuffled the toddler into my arms and let her rest against my chest.

I found myself gazing at her little eyelashes and then her face, taking in the beauty that was this child that me and Rami created. She was very much the perfect mix of the both of us. She had lightly tanned skin, her fathers hair, and my eyes paired with his facial bone structure, even though, it was admittedly hard to see underneath those chubby cheeks of hers, but I saw them. I had studied his face for so long that I knew him when I saw him and I saw him a lot in her. Even when it came to her personality. She was much more calm then her brother and always seemed to be listening to thinking about something. 

In fact, although she was a toddler and had a short attention span, she always made sure to hold eye contact with me as I talked with her and seemed like she was genuinely listening and attempting to process things as she waited for me to end my conversation or phrase. 

Now her brother, on the other hand, though he was the spitting image of Rami, was very hyper and creative; always attempting to gain attention from wherever he went, which was entertaining to say the least. Whether it be waving to everyone he saw at the grocery store, or stopping to do a little bop (his version of dancing) when any upbeat music came on, he was an angel and him and his sister seemed to balance each other out perfectly.

“Mama?”

I peered over and glanced at my son who was now sitting on top of Rami’s shoulders as he reached out for me to hold him.

“Sounds like someone wants mom hmm?”, I smiled at Rami smugly, much enjoying the natural tight bond I had with the children I once carried in my womb.

“You know dad exists to? Dad’s not that bad.”

I laughed as our son practically forced his way off of Rami’s shoulders as I shifted my body so I could hold both of them in my arms. I began bouncing each of them, sending giggles vibrating off of their tongues as I hummed a nursery rhyme I knew they both loved.

“I’m so lucky.” I looked up to see Rami smiling affectionately at the three of us.

He always seemed to happy now a days, which was great to see despite him working many hours and showing up looking as if he just got done with work and had had zero sleep (which was a very real possibility). Never did he refuse to see his children when it was his asserted time to, nor did he ever say no in times like these when I wasn’t feeling my best and needed some time to myself. I admired that about him a lot. I admired a lot about him though.

“We are so lucky”, I smiled at him, emphasizing the ‘we’ part.

“Very true. Thanks for making them with me.”

I bit my lip to contain the grin that was daring to spread all the way to my cheeks as I focused my gaze on the floor, avoiding eye contact with him at all cost. Because, if i didn’t think of having sex with him enough while I was alone, I surely didn’t want to think of it when he was standing right next to me.

“Alright, what do you say we got to the park and let mom rest a bit!”

Without hesitation, the twins wiggled their way out of my arms, nearly making me drop their short bodies as they ran around, chanting about the park in the process.

“Thank you, again, for doing this so last minute”, I thanked him.

“It’s the least I can do. Plus, spending time with our little destructive twins isn’t all that bad.”

We both shared laughs as we kept our eyes fixed on one another for a little too long, something we would do often whenever we had to see each other. To most, it could seem like we were just taking in the others expression, but to us, at least on my end, I was replaying the past. Our past that was filled with so much good and a whole lot of complicated, but eventually it all seemed to work and fit together in this terribly awkward puzzle of a family we have going on here. Of course, if I had it my way I would’ve loved to be a proper family, and when I saw proper family I refer to mom and dad at least being in a romantic relationship with each other, but I understood his decision to not want to be in a relationship with me after finding out I was pregnant.

He couldn’t trust me and I didn’t blame him a bit for that. His reasoning was severely valid and, to this day, I still mourned what could have been had I told him right then and there despite whatever terms we were on at that time, but there was no going back, no changing of the past that I could do to fix it and that was fine; I accepted that a long time ago. However, it didn’t rid me of my utter adoration for him and deep longing to be his. I don’t think anything could ever do that.

We both finally broke our gaze off one another as our daughter came into view while she sat directly at the foot of her father while her tiny hand tugged on his dark jeans.

“Park?”, she said so softly and patiently as her small smile covered her face.

“Yes baby girl, park”, he said as he swooped her up in his arms and placed a kiss to her forehead. Immediately, she giggled and rested her head on his shoulder and I felt my heart sing just at the sight of the two of them. 

“Do you need anything else before I go lay down?”

Rami shook his head as he slung the diaper bag over his shoulder while still holding our daughter in the other arm.

“Go lay down babe.”

Babe. God, the fact that he still called me that always made me swoon even though it had been a couple years now that he’d been calling me that...it still did so much to me and I think that spoke for my feelings perfectly.

I nodded, but as I walked past Rami to go down the hallway, I felt a strong hand playfully smack against my ass.

Although Rami was always flirty with me, we had never had physical contact quite like that. In fact nothing more than a friendly kiss on the cheek and hug were all we had shared..but his touch was leaving me feeling so needy right now and i wasn’t sure how to feel about it.

Our little girl broke out in a fit of giggles as I turned around and glared at Rami, all the while he had a playful smirk on his lips as he caressed his daughters back.

“What?”

“Mhmm”, I hummed as I hovered in the doorway of my bedroom.

“Didn’t know I wasn’t allowed to admire how hot the mother of my children was”, and with that, Rami urged our little boy to hold his hand as all three of them made a bee line for the front door.

“Hope you feel better”, Rami said just before he closed the door behind him leaving me in silence.

God, I hate how he made me feel even to this fucking day and I hate that I fell onto my bed and just laid their with my eyes glued to the ceiling as I pictured how our life would be together. I was being such a high school girl with a massive crush on the most popular jock and it was god awful because we had already been down this road and it was clear that there wasn’t another fork or side street I could take for us to join each other once again.

I hated that I secretly dreaded and craved the times he would come pick the kids up or anytime we both had to be at a family function together because I knew this feeling would flutter back in, as if my heart was its resting grounds, and make me feel this heart wrenching pain and constant reminder that I fucked up. I wonder if he felt it too.

I wonder if he ever did the very thing I’m doing now, picturing our lives together had everything not taken such a wild route, but I would be so lucky for him to even fathom the thought. I knew he was living life up as a successful Hollywood bachelor -- I wasn’t oblivious to tabloid photos and I was still involved in the acting scene so word got around about who was kissing and sleeping with whom. The fucking hilarious thing is that it always hurt. The sting never faded, just kept bubbling and bubbling until I would have to slam my computer shut or excuse myself from the conversation regarding the father of my children and, more privately, the love of my life.

Eventually I had exhausted myself and my thoughts as I felt my eyelids grow heavy. Wincing a little, I pressed my finger to my temple as I reached for the medicine on my bed side table and popped a pill into my mouth while gulping down a drink of water. My head hit the pillow and, in an instant, I was out as my body attempted to cooperate with me, or rather, comply with the drugs I just fed it.

-

You know those moments when you fall asleep and wake up with no knowledge of falling asleep? This was one of those fuzzy moments as I felt myself start to wake up as I heard loud screeches and shrills from somewhere in my home. Admittedly, I was a bit scared at first, until I heard Rami’s deep voice soothing the children from, what I assume to be, a tantrum that ensued. My hand slipped out of my warm blanket to grab at my phone, that i’d placed on the charger just before slipping into a deep sleep, as my eyes focused on the numbers listed on my lock screen. 

11:45 pm usually signaled nap time for the two bundles of joy -- this must be the cause of all the loud voices which, i’m sure, Rami was trying to prevent so that I could rest comfortably, but with two kids, it’s hard to get any sort of volume control over them, I knew that all too well.

Suddenly, it went quiet just before I heard a door shut. Rami was hopefully getting the twins settled and calmed so they could take their naps and then he’d be free to go. I hated when he left. Every time, I wanted to reach my hand out and tug on his arm and beg him to stay and just hang out with me, sort of like old times. Maybe we could watch a movie? Maybe we could make some food together and attempt to chat over the various sounds of things being cooked over a stove? On more simpler times, maybe we could just make out?

My bedroom door was suddenly cracked, letting the hallway light peek through as I saw a tuft of dark hair and glimmer of tan skin become illuminated. I barely moved, but it was enough for Rami to notice that I wasn’t asleep.

“Did you rest at all”

“I did yeah. Just woke up actually.”

Rami nodded as he left the door slightly open and came to sit on the edge of my bed.

“Twins are sleeping.”

“Thank you”, I smiled at him genuinely as he smiled back at me before dropping eye contact and fixing his gaze onto the shapes and textures of my duvet.

It was like this for a couple minutes -- unbearable and awkward silence was making my breath quicken as I fiddled with my fingers set on top of my duvet.

“Did you want something?”

Rami jerked his head up, shaking it slightly, as he looked at me with a look i hadn’t seen in awhile. I almost couldn’t remember what this look was for..until he spoke.

“I miss you.”

I was speechless as I just stared, something I was all too well at doing.

“I just wanted to spend some time with you while we didn’t have any interruptions. You know, talk and catch up; we don’t get to do that anymore.”

“You’re right we don’t..”, I nodded agreeingly, “we definitely don’t.”

“So..”

“Soo”, I reiterated.

“Tell me what you’re up to..any new roles you’re excited for?”

I shook my head. Although I loved acting and saw it as my purpose in life, right now my purpose was my children, so I hadn’t been very antsy to go after any new roles; only taking ones that were offered to me and seemed to fit into my busy schedule.

“Is this because of the twins?”

You shrugged, “Being a mom is important to me and I don’t want anyone else raising my kids like a nanny or some bull shit.”

“Yeah, but I thought we promised each other that we would accommodate. I don’t want it to just be me taking roles, if that means you can’t.”

“We’ve promised each other lots of things Rami.”

I knew I shouldn’t have said it. The second the words left my mouth I coward and slumped my body as instant regret smothered me.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered.

Rami didn’t say anything, which made me look back up to find him looking at me with a type of hurt in his eyes as he ever so slightly scooted closer to the middle of my bed.

“You know that I wish things were different right? This isn’t my ideal situation, I hope you know that.”

“Yeah, I know..believe me, I know. It’s not mine either.”

“It’s just..you know I can’t trust you.”

Loudly, I huffed with tears threatening to leave my pupils. “Its been two years Rami.”

“That doesn’t change what you did Y/N!” His voice was loud and angry as I shushed him and encouraged him to fully shut the door.

He shut the door, a little too loudly for my liking as I shot him daggers with my eyes. “You’re going to wake them up.”

His facial expression immediately softened as he took his seat on the bed again as my eyes took in every movement he made while he brushed a hand through his thick dark hair and let out a loud sigh. “I’m sorry.”

“Just--”, I stopped the words that were attempting to betray my conscious that was currently screaming at me to just be honest and open with him.

“Say it. Say what you’re thinking.”

“No Rami It-”

“Fucking say it.”, although, his harsh language would make anyone think he was angry, his soft tone and facial expression were mirror images of a puppy with the brightest and biggest brown eyes, dying for you to take them home. Except, Rami was dying for me to be open and honest -- simple, yet a task in my eyes.

Suddenly, Rami scooted even closer on the bed until his crossed legs were parallel to mine that were covered by the duvet and as Rami placed his palms on the tops of my covered thighs, we resembled that one scene from the beloved 80’s movie Sixteen Candles. You know, the one where Samantha Baker and Jake Ryan finally are able to bask in their puppy love, at the very end of the film, as they sit on top of a dining room table with the room illuminated only by candles. The film encaptures the perfect, yet, intangible ending because love is never ever that easy. I wish it was, I truly do, but what me and Rami have isn’t puppy love and, sadly, me and Rami weren’t just two teenage misfits trying to find our place in the world and loving each other in the process. No, we were grown adults with children, that we created together, paired with a bittersweet past to match our even more bitter attitudes towards where we both stood with each other.

“Talk to me”, Rami said as he flipped his hands over, palms facing up and awaiting for my own hands to fall into place with his and I let them do just that.

Rami squeezed my hands, encouraging me as I nodded. “I just don’t get why you won’t give me another chance... No, give us another chance because this isn’t even about just me anymore Rami, clearly you are feeling this to-”

“What are you feeling?”

I shouldn’t have assumed i guess. He could very well just be trying to keep a good and open relationship with the women who mothered his children, but somehow I didn’t think that was true. This time I was confident he was feeling what I was feeling and I wasn't’ risking passing it up.

“I feel...I feel like we both want to be together but...but we are fighting each other on it. Which is crazy! Isn’t it crazy? We both want the same things and yet we are too scared to say anyt-”

It felt like the wind was knocked out of me or that ‘this couldn’t possibly be happening’ feeling, but it was happening. His lips quickly punctured my rant, that I had been rehearsing for months, as his hand came up to grasp the back of my neck to deepen the long, passionate kiss we were tangled up in. His lips, my god his lips; they were soft and oh so familiar as we both synced our movements as the hot smooches persisted.

I wasn’t even think, I was purely doing what felt right and natural as I gripped the collar of his t-shirt and pulled him closer to me, making him fall forwards, knocking me flat on my back and taking him right down with me, but never did our lips pull apart. Even when we laughed and nibbled on each others bottom lip, we never disconnected because we wanted nothing but to be touching and indulging in the others presence.

Rami’s hands soon found the bottom of my pajama top as he, without hesitation or second guess, pulled the fabric up and over my head. His mouth jumped onto my bare chest as his lips enclosed around my nipple, sucking and biting while his other hand massaged my other breast.

Our breaths were hot and loud as my hands fumbled with his shirt, making him pull his face away from my chest, but only long enough so I could leave his upper half naked. My eyes devoured him and my hands took advantage of this time as they smoothed up from his happy trail, to his stomach, were I felt his muscles tense up below me, until they left to rest on his chest.

Everything was fast and needy and exactly how I wanted it right now because I too was needing him and, judging by the growing bulge in his pants, he was needing me just as much.

My hands smoothed down and over his crotch, feeling the material covering his erection as I kneaded him, making Rami moan while he grinded his hand against my palm.

“You have no idea how often I've thought about doing this to you”, Rami’s breathy and growl-like words dug straight into my ear as he took a small bite into my earlobe while I fumbled with getting the zipper and button on his jeans to cooperate with my efforts to get rid of them.

“Mmm, tell me”, Rami pulled away from me, looking slightly confused as I pushed his jeans down his hips.

“Tell me how often you think about this.”

Rami seemed to grow a bit bashful at my request as he willingly kicked the rest of the denim from his legs, leaving him nearly nude in front of me as I got several layers deep in a deadly sin just eyeing him and appreciating that right now he wanted me just as badly as I wanted him; whether that be purely sexual or romantic, I didn’t give a single fuck, because we were both on the same page at this moment.

Instead of answering my question, he returned his mouth to my neck, leaving open mouthed kisses to the tight skin while one of his hands slipped underneath my shorts and went straight to the top of my underwear. His finger tips danced straight down in between my legs as one of his fingers glided along my covered fold, sending my back arching into his touch.

“Don’t tease. I’ve waited long enough, haven’t I?”, I whimpered.

Rami’s smile could be felt against my neck just before he rearranged his body so that he was resting between my legs with his knee’s holding him up as his hands found the tops of my shorts and panties and dragged both of them down my thighs as I assisted him by bending my knees, allowing him to easily get rid of the rest of my clothing.

“You didn’t answer my question.”

“Yeah, cause i’m a little more focused on other things right now like the naked girl laying under me.”

He attempted to distract me by pulling down the remainder of his clothing; discarding the light grey briefs and pushing them down his thighs with the help of his foot as he rested both of his hands on either side of my head. Sure, the distraction worked for a while as I reached my hand between us and began stroking his hard member, but I quickly recalled my question once he closed his eyes and began moving his hips so he was thrusting into my hand.

“You still didn’t answer my questions.”

Rami’s eyes peaked open as breathy moans still kept panting off of his tongue as he pressed his forehead against mine.

“Why does it matter?”

“Because..”, my hand moved the tip of his shaft against my folds, letting him feel how wet he had gotten me with the minimal touching we had already done. “Do I need a reason?”

“God you’re so wet.”

“Hmm?”, Rami’s voice was so soft and deep that you almost wouldn’t have heard his filthy words, but I heard them. I simply just wanted to hear him utter them louder.

Instead, he groaned, swatting my hand off of his erect cock as he gripped his shaft and pressed his tip to my entrance, making me involuntarily arch my back into him, causing him to enter me ever so slightly.

We were both moaning messes as Rami looked at me, silently asking if he could continue.

“You know I want it, jus-”

Before I could finish my thought, he was fully entering me at a slow pace as he winced above me, keeping his teeth latched tightly onto his bottom lip.

“Fuck.”

“I second that ‘fuck”, I whined as Rami tried his best not to laugh, but failed miserably.

“I hate you so much sometimes.”

I frowned, taking his lighthearted words much too literal for what they were because it was exactly what I had thought for the past couple years. I thought he hated me and was just putting on a happy show for our kids to see so they wouldn’t grow up knowing that there parents royally fucked up, or rather their mother royally fucked up any chance they had at loving each other.

“Hey, i’m joking. You know that, right?”, Rami let his thumb brush against the peak of my cheek bone, just below my eye, as he look at me intently.

I nodded, keeping my eyes out of the line of direct contact as I fumbled with the hairs on the back of his neck; twirling them around my finger.

“Look at me.”

I obeyed and looked at his sincere eyes as he continued stroking my cheek, just before he pressed a kiss to my lips.

God, this had to have been the best kiss i’d ever had the pleasure of indulging in. Not only because it was hot and heavy, but it was sincere and like a full glass of water on a hot summer day in Texas. It was filling me up, physically and emotionally, and the dripping emotions it carried through his lips to mine were like tiny endorphins making me smile again -- making me love him again and again.

“I want you”, I mumbled against his lips, both meaning his heart and soul and everything he had to offer as well as his body moving inside of me.

He definitely understood part of what I was saying as he moved his hips so that his cock moved completely out of me, before he roughly slammed back inside of me, making me latch my hands onto his biceps with a death grip.

“You still haven’t answered my-”

“Are you fucking kidding me”, Rami said breathlessly as he smiled down at me, not fully believing that I was so hung up on a question so petty in his mind.

“Did you think about it when you were kissing other girls?”, Rami had now gotten a slow, but steady thrusting rhythm as he filled me up -- feeling every inch of pleasure I had to offer him as he nodded his head.

“Yes, I--fuck--I always thought of you.” His words were spaced out, interrupted, and breathy, but I could still make out entirely what he meant.

“Even whe--shit--when you were fucking them.”

“Especially...”, gradually, his thrusts sped up until he was at an even, medium pace; just enough so I could really, really feel his warmth and every twitch of pleasure,”...especially when I was fucking them.”

My eyes rolled to the back of my head, both from pleasure as well as from the erotic words spewed from his mouth. Rami’s eyes, however, were wide open, watching my every reaction as they grew grey, a much darker shade then they normally were, as his one arm held himself up, while the other picked up my thigh, bending it and pressing it towards my chest so I could feel him deep -- so fucking deep.

“Ever--every time I buried myself deep inside someone..it was you. All I really wanted was you.”

I hadn’t noticed, but a single tear had slid down from my eye, making Rami’s eyes grow puppy dog like as he swiped the tear away. His thrusts slowed down a bit, most likely due to his attention being geared toward me and why I was crying, but it still felt so good. Just to be with him and near him felt so incredibly good and right.

“Anyone I dated, anyone I kissed; it was to find someone like you and no one”, his lips trembled slightly as they hovered over mine, “no one could touch you. Its always been you baby.”

I simply nodded, feeling much too overwhelmed with sexual pleasure and emotional contentment to muster up any words as I closed the gap between our lips; pressing them together in a hard kiss, hoping that did the trick in delivering the words that I couldn’t seem to find right now.

From then on, our lips never disconnected. Not even after we both were desperate, moaning messes, not even when I reached my high with a high pitched moan, and especially not when Rami reached his climax with a few sputtered thrusts and throaty groans. We never broke apart, not even to catch our breath as we clung to each other while coming down from the highs due to our orgasms; we merely just breathed in one another, mixing salty tears and saliva with one another as we relished in this feeling and this action that we were both so terribly involved in.

The only noise that caused us to move apart was the sound of one of the twins crying. Without hesitation, me and Rami pulled apart to stare at the baby monitor set on my side table as we both looked at the infant that was awake much too early from their nap.

“I’ll go check on her”, Rami said as he wiggled his sweaty, naked body off of mine.

“No, i can go. You did enough.”

“How about we both go?” I nodded with a smile as I managed to get my equally sweaty and sore body up to a sitting position as I tugged my pajama top and panties back on, but skipping the shorts.

Rami had grabbed his briefs and tugged them back on, but leaving all of his other clothing scattered on my floor where we had thrown them in the heat of the moment. I smiled, thinking back to how familiar this was, how carefree we both were before our babies and before the pregnancy and before all the complications had ensued. Rather, here we were, half clothed and comfortable as we pranced around my home, down the wood floored hallway as we shuffled, with quiet feet, to the door of the nursery.

Rami gently, turned the handle, attempting not to disturb the other twin who was sleeping soundly, as he scooted towards our little girl who was red cheeked and a crying mess. He scooped her up in his arms gently and pulled her out of the nursery, closing the door behind him, and cooing in her ear to try and soothe her.

“Shh, honey shh. It’s okay, daddy's got you.”

Her hicupped cries began to settle as he rocked her gently back and forth in his arms and I just gazed on, acknowledging that right now was Rami’s moment to be the dad that I knew he was amazing at. So, I took my role as a smiling mother in the background, grinning from ear to ear as I watched our little girl fall back asleep as her sniffles began to quiet.

“Should I put her back in bed?”, Rami whispered.

I shook my head, “She can sleep with us in our bed.”

“Our bed, huh?”, Rami waved a cocky eyebrow as he took note of my mistake -- calling my bed our bed, no matter how small, was still vastly incorrect...for now at least, but I could feel things were changing. Changing for the better.

“You know what I-”, Rami interrupted me as he waved his hand, well, to the best one could while holding a sleeping soundly two year old.

Silently, we both walked back to my bedroom as Rami plopped onto the bed gently, placing our little girl next to him and me curling up under my duvet right next to her so that she was sandwiched between the two of us.

We both curled up on our sides, facing one another as we smiled at each other, either one of our hands occasionally brushing against our daughters sleeping body, until we both reached out for her at the same time, but instead Rami took a hold of my hand in his, gently holding it against his palm.

I looked up towards him to see a grin plastered on his face, taking note of the single little curl that was glued to his forehead from the prior passionate “activities” we had indulged in. I took on a grin to match his as his thumb began playing with the skin near my knuckles as we both just relished in this moment; not really knowing what it meant or what was happening, but one thing we both knew was that we were moving in a direction that felt right and suddenly, I was happy things didn’t work out a couple years ago, because now I was going to get to re introduce myself to this Rami. This new man that stood before as a loving human being and even more loving father.

I loved him like this and now, I knew for sure that, he loved me to.

-

Tagged:

@amcquivey @siriuslovesmarlene @sleep-all-day-and-all-night@kellysimagines @everybodyplaythegame@ramibaby@tyferbebe @xoa-lex @runawayxwithme@chibiisaurus@singyourheartout4-rami @hazeleyedbeth@thatramigirl@katiekitty261 @mydogisthebest@killerqueenofthenight @deacytits@notevenlxvely @saviooor@youthtea @amf71010 @bo-queen-rhap@rami-malek-trash @thedoctorsblogger@emilygracebatchelor@blackharry @destiel-stucky4ever-loki-queen@sunflower-borhap-boys @ghostwriter1909 @ahkmenrami1205

@frami-mercury-malek

[as-the-doctor-ordered]

{ @as-the-doctor-ordered @pragmatic-purple @wrathful-red @the-great-and-powerful-zim @waking-nightmares @Prisoner 777 }

Mika paced outside the door to the bridge wringing his hands together. He had asked to set up a meeting with the Tallests and they were expecting him to arrive any moment. He didn’t want to be late, but he certainly couldn’t quell his nerves. Although they were family now, this was a professional request. He was not approaching them as their mate and ‘in-law’ as the humans would call it. He had asked Pur personally not to speak to him as his mate, but as an employee, as he was hired.

Honestly, the thought was intimidating, but he knew he had a good defense for his request, one that made sense for the betterment of Irk’s youth as they begin to change the way things are run, particularly with the absence of the control brains. Not only that, but even at Mika’s young age, only in his 60s, he was more than qualified to take on the task. Taking a deep breath, Mika stepped forward, tapped on the door with his knuckles, and pushed it open, not surprised that Pur and Red were ready and waiting for him, an extra seat set up just below as they might from any request from a Taller (that they actually decided to entertain).

“Good afternoon, my Tallests. Thank you for seeing me,” Mika said, giving them a slight bow and a submissive droop of his antennae as he shuffled to the chair and sat down, hands in his lap and sitting up tall and straight.

The Tallests were sitting side by side in the room, a plate of doughnuts between them. They had talked for awhile about how to separate the fact that Mika was Purple's mate from the request he had- it was not something that they had to deal with since they had taken on mates and the concept seemed rather strange, but they figured that since it was Mika's direct request that they would try their best to not allow the Irk's title to sway their decision in what had been a rather vague and ominous request to speak to them. 

When Mika entered in Pur flashed him a bright and toothy smile, lifting one hand in a wave before looking to Red. 

Tallest Red cleared his throat softly, leaning forward on the table and asked with a raised brow, "Now that you have our attention- what is it that you would like to speak about, Mika?"

Mika fidgeted a bit in his seat, but tried his best to keep himself looking tall and professional. "I have a proposal for you. The reason for this meeting, rather than simply approaching you about it, is because it will change many things about how one of our current academic systems are run. And I felt that would be an important decision that should be unbiased by our relationships," the doctor began, clearing his throat into a gloved hand before continuing, "I wish to propose we move medical academy in its entirety to the Massive and adapt the curriculum to better represent Irk's political changes." 

At the request both of the Tallests looked toward one another with raised brows. Red looked back to the little Irk and asked, "What is it about the current medical academy structure that you do not find satisfactory?"

"First, it separates the brightest of our youth, the smeets made here on the Massive, from the Academy itself," Mika replied slowly, taking a deep breath. He'd practiced this. He knew what he was doing. "I have noticed since my departure from medical academy, and even during my tenure, numbers are dwindling. Those of age are opting to attend other institutions. But I do not believe distance is the sole issue," he continued cautiously, "The second issue lies in the curriculum itself and thus my second proposed change. Currently, students are required to complete at least two years of on-site training. Historically, this has been posed in active battlefield. I was posed myself in the line of active duty. While I feel this training to be important, it is currently mandatory and extremely traumatic. We lose more medics to death during this time than we gain into the academy as a whole as they are not trained in war but in healing. I would like to propose that this route be optional with a choice between either active duty or during peacekeeping missions, to be arranged with Taller Dib once he is well. I also propose those that do choose either route should take additional time to prepare them for emergency and trauma care."

Red listened carefully and looked to his brother with a shrug. Tallest Purple then shifted forward and said, "The logic is sound, Mika. I trust that your facts are straight and I believe that they would all be confirmed if I dug into them myself. I do trust that you know that the remodeling of an entire educational structure that has been in place for many centuries will be a daunting task and an expensive one. We would have to find where on the Massive the new school would be housed and we would likely need to purge the current educators who are set in very traditional ways, bringing on a new and likely diverse staff. You understand that this will cause backlash. Then there is the question of where the funds for it are coming from. Do you have a proposal for that - or is this something that you are asking the Tallests to foot the bill for?" 

The tall purple-eyed Irk gave a half smile, knowing that he would gladly front the bill for any of his mate's passion projects- but Mika had asked for him to be seen as an employee in this meeting and he did not want to adopt the totally whipped mate role too soon and make the young Irk feel like he was being merely placated.

"I understand such a large change will come at great cost, both financially and by way of staffing - including room and board for other instructors. However, I did some research and I happen to know that there is a great deal of space in the lower starboard wing. Currently, medbay also has many unused operating rooms that can be converted to hands-on teaching rooms with minimal expense," Mika replied, tugging his tablet out of his PAK and bringing up a holographic screen, resizing for the Tallest's to see blueprints of the Massive. "Just here - this area is relatively unused aside from a bit of storage. Also, if we open admissions to other races, within only a few years any incurred expenses should be returned. The rest will be profit. So, in short - yes. I am asking you, my Tallests, to 'foot the bill' as it were. But it will be a worthwhile investment."

Tallest Red looked over to his brother and asked, "How many are in the Academy now? Will shifting them back to the Massive be feasible with our current population?" 

Pur shrugged, pulling up his own computer to check the numbers as he replied, "It looks like we have about thirty thousand Irks currently enrolled… ah. I mean I guess we could repurpose sections Alpha-327 through Beta-Five for dorm ideas and to house the actual Academy. Most of those areas are just training rooms for Invaders and barracks. We could have students intern under the Irks on the Massive in their respective fields and utilize many of the areas on board for on site training and such… we could bring in our Engineers to try to redesign those areas to be more useful for education stuff." He then raised a brow and said, "Opening up diversity would probably be good for PR too."

Red nodded softly and looked back to Mika to ask, "When are you proposing to implement this?"

Mika leaned back in his seat, twisting his hands together in his lap as he replied, "As soon as possible, my Tallest. Without institutional change to our core systems, the majority of Irk is still being led by old and out of date laws. It is essential we begin enacting these systems within our main organizations if we wish to truly change mindset, perspective, and public opinion. Beginning with how we heal our own kind and others.""

Tallest Red let out a soft sigh at the answer. It was absolutely the one that he expected but it was the least convenient planning wise. They had a lot of work ahead of them if they were going to implement a new structure for education and rewrite the laws around it. At the moment all he wanted to do was to be home with his mates, but the work was never ending. 

He looked up at the little orange eyed Irk and said, "We have heard your requests. Please forward everything you have put together on it to your Tallest. We will look into it and see what is feasible."

Pur leaned forward and gave a smile as he said in a voice that was very much one mate to another rather than maintaining his station above the other, "I think it is a great idea, Starshine. We will see what we can do to make it work."

"Thank you, Tallest Red. I will forward everything I have," Mika nodded, standing from his seat and giving them a low, proper bow. He couldn't restrain the affectionate chirp, however, in response to his mate's words, nor the tilt in his antennae toward the Tallest. When he straightened up, his eyes were bright. "Thank you, Tallest. I will see you this evening," he chittered, taking his leave. 

"See you, Starlight." Pur replied softly as his mate took his leave, unabashedly watching his figure as he walked away. When he had gone he turned to Red and mused, "I think it is honestly a great idea. I might be slightly biased, but he made some good points."

"I agree," Red mused as he pulled up his computer display to write out a summons. "But we are definitely going to need our Engineer back. And honestly, it is probably big-time that he is pardoned anyway. I cannot even recall why we put him in jail."

"I don't know that there was any legitimate reason," Pur replied almost uncomfortably.  It was always a bit unpleasant when they were faced with their own bad decisions from the past as they attempted to move toward a better future. 

Red sighed and said, "I think it is time we probably look at the prisoner roster for Moo-Ping 10 and reevaluate who should actually be there. My guess is that it is not many."

"I think that is fair," Pur said as he stood from his seat. "Let's sync this evening with a list. We can put together restitutions and an apology speech."

"I think I need to get a speech writer, honestly. I am running out of ways to say I am sorry," Red replied wearily. 

"I am sure you will come up with something," Pur replied as he placed one hand on his brother's shoulder, "I'd offer my assistance in making these speeches. But, you know. Stage fright."

"I know, brother-mine. It is fine," Red assured as he sent off his message. He looked up to the other and said, "I imagine that the Vortian will arrive within the next few days. Let's try to put together the basics of what we want before he gets here. Now, if you do not mind. I am going to go barricade myself in my quarters with my family. Unless the ship is going to explode, I would like to not do a single thing as Tallest for the remainder of the evening."

Pur laughed softly and said, "Go on, then. I will keep an eye on things. Have a lovely evening, Tallest Red."

Red stood and flashed his brother a smile, "You as well, Tallest Purple."

-0-0-0-

Far from the Massive on the Prison Planet of Moo-Ping 10 a Gellaxis guard sat at a desk, moving the perfectly square coffee cup and his rectangle lunch box so that one corner of each was touching, creating several perfect and visually appealing right angles. Around the room, everything appeared to be set up to create as many right angles as possible. It extended even further- the entire prison seemed to follow in suit- an obvious design of the Gellaxis, who were as a whole race, obsessed with the precision and balance that right angles created. 

It had been quite some time since he had anything to actually do as the secretary of the prison, so when a message came through he emitted a shriek of surprise at the loud notification sound. Recovering from this he opened it and read through the message, noting the attached payment for the release of a prisoner. 

Because that is how things worked on Moo-Ping 10. It did not matter what a person's crimes were- or if there had even been a crime committed.  The Gellaxis were happy to imprison anyone- for a monthly price. To release someone, however, the balance of their entire 'sentence' had to be paid in full. 

The Gellaxis printed out the release papers to be reviewed, signed in triplicate, subjected to council inquiry and then filed away. Typical turnaround was between two to three business days, but seeing as this request came from the Tallests of Irk, he grabbed one of his square stamps and lined it up precisely with the corner of the paper, leaving a box that said 'Urgent' in red ink before he sent it off to the warden. 

With that task done, it was time to inform the prisoner that his release was pending and so, the Gellaxis straightened the squared badges on his chest and stomped his way through the halls to where the prisoner's lodgings were. He raised a hand to knock on the glass of the cell and demanded, "Prisoner 777, report."

The requested Vortian’s eyes opened, staring up at the ceiling above him. He hadn’t been sleeping, but the knock on the glass alerted his attention. With an exhausted sigh, Seven shifted to stand, for a moment glancing about the perfectly square room, back at his bed tucked perfectly in the corner, and scowling at the hard and straight frame he had raked his knee off of on multiple occasions. If it were up to him, the entire prison would be designed very differently.

Sighing again, Seven walked up to the glass wall and stood across from the Gellaxis, raising one brow. “What?”

The guard looked over the Vortian as he approached the thick glass and said, "I am here to report to you that a petition has been submitted for your release from Moo-Ping 10. The request is currently under review but from a glance I can tell you that your fees have been paid in full and I cannot foresee a reason that you would be further detained at this point. It is recommended that you prepare yourself to be released- any loose ends should be wrapped up in the next day cycle. You are meant to report directly to The Massive."

“The Massive?” Seven asked, looking a bit surprised. He was, albeit vaguely, aware of the plentitude of changes encompassing the Irken Armada’s rule, including the destruction of the Control Brains. They’d all seen the news, had heard the speeches from Tallest Red himself. After a moment’s thought, the Vortian figured it made a bit of sense that he would be reporting back to The Massive after all this time, having been the lead designer and mechanic for the ship. In any case, he had a few choice words to deliver to the Tallests, if he had the chance. “That’s great news. I’ll get all my belongings together,” he scoffed, glancing over his shoulder at the practically empty cell, save for photographs of his children. “Might need some time to get all of this together.”

"You will be provided a box for your belongings," the guard commented, obviously not licking up on the sarcasm in Seven's voice before stepping back. "I will have your container delivered and as you are being checked out you will receive your personal affects which were confiscated from you upon your arrival. Which, if my records are correct, is a pen-knife and a bag of groceries.  These will have been kept in storage for you."

“I don’t know how I lived without them,” Seven replied with a roll of his eyes, giving the guard a bit of a shrug before stepping a bit back from the glass. “I’ll be ready to go,” he added, finally turning his back on the Gallaxis, walking to the wall to take down his few photos of his children and prepare for his departure.

Due to the Urgent status of the request it was completed before the evening was out and a transport had been arranged to bring the Vortian from Moo-Ping 10 to The Massive- a transport which arrived first thing the next morning. The new model of the Minnow docked in the main hangar of the prison and when the door opened, it was a human with bright red hair that stepped out, dressed in  lack armour made from some kind of leather, but he wore a blue jacket over it with painted yellow flowers decorating it. 

Keef approached the warden as well as Prisoner 777 with a bright smile, though he looked exhausted as always if the dark circles under his eyes were anything to judge by. When he spoke it was in Irken, somewhat clumsy Irken, "Thanking you for quickly processing the Tallest's requests." He looked to the Vortian and added, "It is a pleasure."

Seven was surprised when he saw Keef step off the ship. The redhead hadn’t been present in any of the broadcasts, though he was vaguely aware of Tallest Red’s human mates. It was strange to think of the Tallests taking mates at all, that they desired these humans so much they were willing to change the entirety of how their systems were run.

Now that he was no longer cuffed or behind the walls of a cell, he stepped slightly toward Keef and gave him a low bow as a sign of respect to the Taller. “Thank you for coming to receive me so promptly,” the Vortian replied, straightening back up and smoothing out the front of his prisoner’s uniform. “Though admittedly I expected more pomp and circumstance from the Tallests. I suppose they’d prefer to handle this matter quietly.”

The Taller watched the Vortian bow with an incredibly uncomfortable look on his face. He was still definitely not used to that. As the alien stood, genuinely towering over him Keef lifted one hand to run it through his mop of hair and replied, "You do not have to bow. It is weird. I don't super like it. And ah. Yeah. Sorry. To be honest I requested the assignment to get out of the Massive.  I'm sure I've got some glitter in the ship I could toss in the air as you get on board if you want something fancier."

Seven couldn’t help the chuckle that left his lips and he replied, “As you don’t care for bowing, I don’t care for glitter. I think avoiding fancy is probably the best bet for both of our comfort level.” Tucking his hands into his pockets, he gave Keef a wide and sharp-toothed grin, taking in the appearance of the human. His experience with humans was limited, first to that tall dark-haired one that occasionally appeared on screen with Zim many years ago, and now the redhead standing before him. He was much paler than the other human, too, freckled a bit like Zim with strangely bright red eyes. He was really quite fascinating. “Shall we go, then?”

Keef nodded and gestured toward the ship before signing what was more or less a receipt that the warden extended to him. He then turned and walked alongside the much larger alien toward the ship and asked, "I don't have to be worried about you losing your shit and trying to take out the crew or anything, right? Like, I'm prepared for it, but I'd rather not."

“I’ve never committed a crime in my life, if you don’t include supplying Zim with Vortian mech while he was on Earth,” Seven replied as they walked, keeping his eyes forward and trained on the doorway of the ship. “I’m not about to start when I’ve finally been released.”

"Fair enough," Keef replied as they stepped on board and he began to close the door to seal them inside. He then nodded down the hall for Seven to follow him and continued, "I know that the Empire has been a bunch of bullshit. The Tallests were terrible as were most Irks. They are working towards being better every day and I think you will find yourself pleasantly surprised with the changes. Most people are."

The redhead stopped outside one of the many doors and opened it, "We will not be on this ship long, probably about six hours. But this is your temporary room. You can shower there are clean clothes and there is some food. You are a free Vortian at this point, you are welcome essentially anywhere here. When we arrive at the Massive you will be on boarded, the Tallests will propose their new project to you and, should you accept, you will be assigned housing and yadda yadda yadda. If you want to tell the Tallests to piss off and do your own thing- then you will be given the opportunity to leave the Massive. And that's not a threat, they don't toss people out the airlock anymore. But there are severance packages for people that leave. A voot, some cash and a good luck, ya know?"

“That doesn’t sound like the Tallests at all,” Seven chuckled, stepping into the room and looking around. He could feel his shoulders relax at the sight of it, a weight seeming to lift visibly from him. Even on the Minnow, he had a room, a proper bed, a change of clothes that wasn’t a restrictive prison uniform. Stepping up to the bed, he dragged his fingers along the fabric of the folded shirt, feeling the softness and quality of it. He turned to face the human again, a bit of a distracted but curious look in his eyes. “What’s your name?”

"The Tallests have worked very hard to change things. I think that you'll find that all of this is very much in line with who they are striving to be," Keef replied as he stepped into the room as well to tap a display by the door to make the system aware that the guest was here. He looked toward the Vortian with an incredibly bright smile and said, "I'm Keef. You got a name?"

The Vortian tilted his head slightly as he watched Keef move, each action seeming more fluid than he would expect from one of his stature and species, finding himself a bit caught off guard by the dazzling smile tossed his way. After a moment of silence he replied simply, “Seven.”

"Fair enough," the human replied before stepping away from the display. Around them they could feel the ship pulling away from the hangar, the engines whirring subtly around them. He gestured toward a fridge and said, "We packed some Vortian snacks. There's some sweets and stuff and a couple sammich kind of things. But we will have like actually dinner for you at the Massive. I'll let you, ya know… do your thing but if ya need me I'll either be on the bridge or in the training room. There's a mappy thing on the wall just down the hall.” He took a few steps back and added, "See ya around, Sev."

“Thank you,” Seven replied, picking up the folded pile of clothes from the bed as he watched Keef begin awkwardly excusing himself. Once the door closed behind him, the Vortian let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding and shuffled off into the attached bathroom to shower and get changed out of his uniform.

The Tallests had a job for him. Although Keef reaffirmed the changes that the Tallests were making, there was still the thought in the back of his mind that his release would be temporary, and likely dependent on the work that he would be agreeing to when he returned. Seven let the thought roll through his mind, trying and failing to convince himself otherwise until he was showered and dressed. Stepping back into the main room and realizing he didn’t really have much of an appetite, he exited the room instead and made his way through the hall, only glancing at the map before his feet brought him just outside the training room the redheaded human had mentioned earlier.

Inside the training room, Keef had decided to blow off some steam. It was nice to have this time that he did not have to worry about being interrupted by his family. He grimaced at the thought- it was not that he did not love his family- he did, with everything within him. But he was hard pressed to find a time of not being interrupted in his self care by a mate who was tiptoeing around, trying to stop him from being mad at them. That or by his children, which he truly did not mind. But having a few hours that he could work himself to exhaustion without having any of them sneaking up on him was something he truly needed. It was most of why he took this job. 

He had set the training simulator to an expert level and began running through the insanely difficult and stacked battle simulations without even knowing that he was being watched. 

Seven remained quiet as he watched, quickly becoming immersed in Keef’s smooth movements and his dance-like fighting style. It seemed to come easily to him; it was clear that the human was well-trained and it was fascinating to watch. The Vortian himself was not much of a fighter - certainly not trained in that sort of thing - though he could hold his own simply due to his race and stature. He preferred to use his hands for building than for breaking.

He watched Keef go through the entire simulation and stop to catch his breath before bringing attention to himself, coughing softly as he stepped into the room. “Well, it’s a good thing I didn’t lose my shit and try to take out the crew.”

Keef spun around at the sound, one sword still in his hand and his eyes narrowed, but as he realized who it was he dropped the tip of the blade down and replied, "Hiya, Sev. Ah. Yeah. At risk of sounding totally full of myself- I wouldn't recommend it." The redhead sheathed his swords and gestured vaguely toward the Vortian, "The new threads look nice. The jumpsuit clashed with your skintone and dignity."

The Vortian chuckled, walking a bit further into the room as Keef spoke. “Definitely not in the plan now that I’ve seen you training,” he replied, then looked down at his change in clothes. They were simple, certainly - mainly slate grey but with detailing in the classic Irken reddish purple - and a bit more flowy than he was used to, but way more comfortable. Blushing slightly, he shrugged as he lifted his eyes back up to Keef’s. “Thank you. It’s nice to be out of the uniform.”

"When we get back to the Massive there's a few folks that do clothes that can help ta get you a set of new stuff that isn't ya know, this stuff. There's even a few Vortians, so they should be able to get em to fit right and all. I am terrible at the whole fashion thing. So I just kinda stick to the armour and whatever Zim decides I'm wearing for the most part."

“That would be very nice,” Seven agreed. “And the armour seems to suit you, so I don’t think you have anything to worry about. And how is… Zim?” he asked, a bit of a scowl crossing his features as he tucked his hands once more into his pockets.

"Zim is good," Keef replied- certainly not missing the scowl, but understanding that Zim was not very good at making friends in his past. "Parenthood is treating him well. He has mellowed out a lot. I mean, he is still heckin crazy. But more mellow. He has been through a lot. So, I don't know what he did to you. I am sure it deserves some anger. But know that Zim has been through enough trauma in the last decade that he isn't the Irk he was before. If you need to talk to him to clear the air, he'd probably be up for it. But go into that knowing that he is a bit broken now."

The Vortian opened his mouth to reply, but closed it again as he processed the information Keef presented him with. Zim was a parent now. How could he forget? Tallest Red’s smeet had certainly been big news once it was made public. However, it didn’t stop the bitter jealousy that built up in Seven’s chest that, despite what Zim had gone through, the Irk got to be a father while Seven wasted away in jail, wondering what that very Irk had done with his own children. “There will be words, certainly,” he replied flatly.

Keef furrowed his brow and nodded, knowing that it was not his place to undo the wrongs of his mates but he could not help but feel protective. He let out a sigh and said, "I hope that you can understand that I will be there and will not hesitate to put a stop to any aggression towards Zim. Physical aggression, at least. I am contracted as his personal guard and I do take my job quite seriously. So, keep that in mind and try to keep it to words or seeking legal counsel."

“I have no intentions to threaten Zim,” Seven replied. “But I do hope that now, as a father, he can empathize with the fact that I would like to know what happened to my girls. Considering he held them hostage.” Turning, the Vortian began to make his way back out of the training room and continued, “Perhaps I’ll be pleasantly surprised. But do forgive my concern.”

"Are you fucking kidding?" Keef replied with genuine disgust in his voice. He had assumed that Zim had fucked Seven over on a deal or something. Even for as bad as Zim had been- he could not imagine him holding children hostage. He stepped forward, placing a hand on the Vortian's arm and said, "I'm sorry. I didn't know."

Seven stopped when he felt Keef’s hand on his arm, looking down at the contact for a moment before glancing over his shoulder at the redhead. “I’m not kidding. If Zim has changed as much as you say, then I doubt it is something he’s in any way proud of. I’m not surprised it hasn’t been mentioned. That, or he doesn’t remember. Who knows.”

"I am sure he remembers…" Keef replied with a hint of worry in his voice. He released his grip on the other and stepped past him muttering, "Excusing me. I need to make a call."

Seven watched as the human walked away, his own brow furrowed in response to the uncomfortable reaction. It certainly wasn’t an easy topic to bring up. His wife had been gone now for some time, nearly four years, but with hope Zim would be able to return his children. That they would be safe. 

-0-0-0-

"They is dead," Zim replied flatly as Seven stood in front of him in the reception hall of the Tallests. The Vortian had demanded an audience with him before considering the offer of a job and so, Zim had readily agreed to it. He let out a sigh and continued, "They was never hurt while I had them, Seven. Really theys even had fun a lot of the time. But when Zim was captured they was too."

All of the air seemed to be torn from the Vortian’s lungs as Zim spoke. Everything seemed to fade out of focus except for Zim in front of him. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to leap forward and take it out on Zim or if he wanted to throw himself out of the airlock. In a slow and shaky voice, Seven asked, almost as if he didn’t hear the Irk at all, “What happened to my girls?”

"Zim does not know for certains," the little Irk replied sadly. "Zim was captured as well, you see. To be tortured and experimented on. I did not see what's happened to them. But Zim does know that they is gone." Zim let out a soft sigh and took a step towards Seven and said, "Sevens, Zim needs you to know that Zim never hurt them. Zim never would have hurt them. Zim only took them because Seven was on Moo-Ping. I said they were hostages, but Zim was going to gives them back to Seven when he was out of Moo-Ping. Saying they was hostages just made paperwork easier and Zim thoughts it was funny to mess with Seven. But I was caring for them."

Seven had begun to hyperventilate as the little Irk continued to explain. It was true - no matter what, they were likely safer with Zim than they would have been anywhere near Moo-Ping or anywhere else that was under the Armada’s jurisdiction. In any case, his girls were dead just like their mother. The Vortian dropped down to his knees, eyes wide and out of focus as he tried to remember how to breathe.

Zim stepped forward, his heeled boots slapping against the polished floor as he walked. He dropped down directly in front of the Vortian, well aware that even though Seven was peaceful by nature, he could definitely squash him if he wanted to. But even so, he looked up at the other, reaching his hands out to take Seven's hands in his as he said, "Zim meant to care for them. I know that sorrys do not fix it. That they cannot. But Zim is really and truly sorry, Sevens. Sevens has always been Zim's friend. I did not mean for them to be hurts."

At this point, while Seven heard all of Zim's words, he wasn't exactly processing anything that was said to him. He let the Irk take his hands, making no move to attack or threaten him. Instead, the Vortian simply bowed his head, horns coming close to Zim as he did so, and began to cry, his shoulders shaking. 

Zim quickly shifted his weight to allow him to wrap his arms around Seven's shoulders, pulling him into a tight hug as the little Irk buried his face in the crook of the Vortian's shoulder. "Zim is so sorry, Sevens."

Seven wrapped his arms around Zim in response, clinging tightly to the little Irk as he continued to sob, completely lost to everything else outside of the death of his children, suddenly aware of how small his world had become. The only one he really had any relationship to was Zim, who sat here with him apologizing for what happened. 

Truthfully, he was aware it wasn't Zim's fault. That his girls had been safer with Zim than they ever would have been otherwise. That it was a crazy happenstance that they were taken when Zim was. But all he could think was how he would never hold his daughters again, that they didn't live to see his freedom or to be reunited. Seven cried until he couldn't anymore, and slowly ebbed into still silence. 

Zim remained almost uncharacteristically quiet as Seven cried, allowing the Vortian to cling to him the whole time. He could not imagine going through what he was going through at the moment- if all of his children were suddenly gone. But Zim understood pain and knew that sometimes a person did not need the situation to be fixed, but simply needed someone to sit inside that pain of grief with them and so, he stayed. 

Seven had truly been one of Zim's dearest friends through his youth and even after. They had gotten into worlds of trouble together- or more accurately, Zim had caused worlds of trouble with Seven at his side. It made his spooch ache to see him like this. 

When Seven had quieted Zim asked quietly against the skin of his shoulder, "Would Seven likes to have many fruity alcohol drinks for this? That is how Zim's mates deal with sad things."

Seven raised his head slowly, gently detangling himself from Zim as he considered the proposal, freeing one hand to rub at his eyes. "I don't think getting drunk will make this feeling go away. I'll probably just end up too drunk to speak to the Tallests. Tell me… How long were they with you? When did - how long have they been gone?" 

Zim settled himself into the Vortian's lap and said, "They was with Zim for two years before we was all taken…" The little Irk let out a sad sigh and said, "They was gone within the first year we was taken. Zim was there for many years. They woulds be gone for five-ish years now, Zim thinks..  it may not help, but it is better to have been gone than to have been in that place, Seven. They did… many cruel things there." 

The Irk reached his hand up to unfasten his collar, letting his shirt slip off one shoulder to expose a small section of the vibrantly pink scars that coated his body as he added, "They went before the experiments went this cruel."

Seven raised a hand, gently grazing his fingertips along the lines of scars to Zim's shoulder, a sad rumble leaving his own lips. "I'm sorry about what's happened to you, too, Zim. I can't imagine it. If it got this bad, then I'm glad they were spared any worse suffering. But it doesn't make the loss of my baby girls any easier. I hope you can understand that." 

"Zim knows this," he said as he leaned back against his friend's chest and tilted his head back to look up at him. "Zim wishes that he had different words to give Seven. But I do not. If Seven cannot be Zim's friend because if this, Zim will understands."

Seven sighed softly, looping his arms around Zim's waist and shaking his head. "If this ends our friendship then I will really be fully and completely alone. I know you would never hurt my children on purpose. I had a lot of resentment toward you for a long time - but it was never really at you. It was the fear of never seeing my girls again, and after my wife died, there was nothing else."

Zim let out a soft sigh and let his arms rest on Seven's as he said, "Seven had made Zim the… the back up parent. You had a name for it but Zim forgets. I tried to be that for thems, but I was never any good at it. They gots too many sweets and never went to bed on time. They played with lasers and things. But Zim did try. I know how smeets mean to parents now and Zim is sorry for the ache that Seven must feel… like his insides are broken. And I am sorry Zim could not keep them safe for you."

"If I know you at all, I know you did your best. When they were with you and to protect them after," Seven murmured. "It's good they had too many sweets and that they got to do silly things like play with lasers before… and I am sure that with you, they had a great deal of fun. Though I did come in here thinking I would be punching your teeth in," he chuckled. 

"Zim is rather glad you did not punch the teeth in," Zim chuckled back. He looked up at the other and said, "If Seven needs days before talking to the Tallest, Zim will talk to them. Their plans can be waiting a few days."

Frowning, Seven considered the offer for a moment before he shook his head. "No, I think I'd rather go now. I'd like to spend as little time thinking of the death of my girls as possible."

Zim nodded softly and stood, reaching a hand out to help up the Vortian, though with how little he was, he was probably not much help at all. He gave a smile and said, "Let us be seeing Tallest Red then. We can get Seven some works to do and places to stay. Work helps Zim to not be thinking of thinks he wants to not think."

Seven took the Irk's hand, but mostly lifted himself to stand and gave Zim a thankful smile, weak as it was. "It helps me, too. Let's see what the Tallest has in store for me," he agreed, wiping his face free of the drying tears and rubbing some life back into his eyes. At the least he could be composed. 

-0-0-0- 

Tallest Red handed over the plans he had managed to write out for the planning of the Academy. Mostly it was scribbles in red marker all over a blueprint that vaguely gave an idea of what he had in mind, but it was so disorganized that it also could have very easily have been the work of Miguel getting into his father's work. 

"We want to make these changes to host the Academy on the Massive instead of off-world. We would like it done sooner rather than later," he said as he sat back in his chair. He picked up a cup of hot cocoa that was on his desk, passing it to Zim who currently sat in his lap as he added, "But through this we have actually stumbled upon several large opportunities on board- particularly in the lower levels. As such, we wanted to offer you a long term position here, working on upgrades throughout the entirety of the ship. As it turns out, the Control Brains did not care in the slightest as to the living conditions of those in the lower levels and we'd like to remedy that."

Seven was humming thoughtfully as he looked over Tallest Red's vague and messy schematics, listening to his instructions. "As far as the Academy goes, that shouldn't take too much work. I remember this area - we just need to knock down some walls and make sure the area is wired for the right tech. From there it's just design work. As for the living quarters, that's going to take a lot more time to bring up to snuff, whatever that is for you," he said, straightening up to look at Red. "Redesigning the living quarters does mean that many will be displaced if we don't time it properly. We'll have to reno the new spaces first and make sure they're complete and can move before we redo current rooms."

"We have plenty of rooms which people can be relocated to during renovations, plus there are many ships in the Armada that can serve as temporary housing," Red replied softly as he pointed to another section of the map, "Those who are required to stay on board the Massive can be moved to these areas. They are typically kept empty except for diplomats, but upwards of twenty thousand could be housed here. Then, between the Armada, we can find places for them to stay and simply keep the lower levels empty while you- and your team who we will move forward to hire, should you take the position, redesign these areas." 

The Tallest began to idly pet Zim's head as the little Irk drank his hot chocolate and added, "We would like for all the housing aboard the Massive to be of the quality of the diplomatic suites and we want the Academy area to be able to accommodate not only the teachings of Irk, but we want to bring on teachers of other races as well, so we will have to accommodate their technology as well."

Seven listened carefully, nodding along as he made notes on his own datapad, provided to him by Red at the start of their meeting. He glanced up from his notes with a smirk at the Tallest's latest comment, replying, "I was wondering when there would be some kind of challenge. But making all of the Armada tech universally compatible is exactly why you hire me for a job like this."

Straightening up, the Vortian gave a slight bow of his head to the Tallest and added, "You have your engineer, then, my Tallest."

"Yes, we had figured that you would likely be the best for the non- seeing as all the framework was your design to begin with and also because you have experience working with many kinds of technology." Tallest Red replied with a smile- a smile which grew wider as Seven had agreed to the job. He picked Zim up, placing the Irk on his desk before standing and walking around the desk, extending a gloved hand to the Vortian and saying, "Then it is a pleasure to have you aboard. I am forwarding you your contract, feel free to adjust your prices as you see fit if my estimates do not look fair. You are also free to meet with our Alien Resources manager, Taller Dib to discuss negotiations in your contract before you sign. He is currently still technically on bedrest, but he is desperate for something to do and will likely start pulling out his hair if he does not have someone to advocate for soon."

Seven chuckled, reaching forward and taking Red's hand in the handshake and gave a nod. "That sounds… Shockingly reasonable, my Tallest. I will be sure to check over my contract with Taller Dib and I will have everything signed and sent back to you as soon as possible. Thank you for this opportunity - as well as freedom." 

"It was long past time for you to be free, old friend. We were-- I was wrong for it in the first place," Tallest Red admitted with a guilty look in his eyes. "I will have you know that we are now reviewing the imprisonment of every prisoner of Moo-Ping 10 and reevaluating those sentences and giving pardons where needed." 

The Tallest then dropped the Vortian's hand and moved to open a drawer in his desk, pulling out a package which he handed over to the engineer, "Inside is your access badge for your quarters and for the ship, a communicator, identification for you and a Monies Chit which will have your pay. There is universal conversion- and instructions which will be sent to your systems, which will be in your room. You will find that there is restitution and back pay already on your Chit- at the rate currently listed in your contract, not what we were paying you before, which was basically criminal. Your room is fully furnished, but feel free to make any changes you see fit and anything structurally you can simply invoice for the cost. We will also have some of our tailors come by to get your measurements for work uniforms and things." Red then shrugged and said, "Anyway, welcome back."

"It appears there have been many changes since I completed my work on the Massive," Seven replied thoughtfully, adding, "That's all very gracious of you, Tallest Red. Thank you. I should be set to begin within the next couple of days." Turning to Zim, he gave the littler Irk a bit of a nod and said, "It's good to see you again, Zim. You're welcome to visit with me any time."

"Zim will come to see Seven all the times," the little Irk replied after wiping whippy cream from his face onto a handkerchief that Red had absently handed over to him. He then set down his cup and climbed up onto the Tallest's back saying, "Is Tallest done with working now?"

"Yes, Smeetling. I am finished," the Tallest replied as he walked the Vortian over to the door of his office, opening it for the other where a SIR unit was waiting outside. "They will show you to your room, Seven. You may simply send me a message when you have finished looking over your contract and I will schedule an appointment for you to meet with Taller Dib in the morning." 

The Tallest walked out of the office behind the engineer and turned to begin walking down the hall with his mate still clinging to his shoulders. 

[butlegendsneverdie]

Twisted (j.m)

A/N: This is based off my niece and goddaughter. Yes I did use her actual birthdate, because you’ll see why. And I’m not the happiest on how I wrote this. But it’s still likeable I think. 😁 Enjoy! Like Comment Reblog!

Pairing: Joe x Reader Summary: There’s something wrong with your baby girl. Words: 1685 Warnings: um. Childhood ailments?

A/N2: also the baby in this story is 1.

You love your baby girl more than anything in the world. Just getting her into this world seemed like a hassle onto itself. You and your husband had tried various more conventional ways of making a new life unsuccessfully for a couple of years. You began to think there was something wrong with you. But after countless doctors appointments and treatments you get the news that you are pregnant.

The pregnancy itself wasn’t terrible. There was a little bout of morning sickness but other than that you loved carrying the precious life. The birth was a story in of itself. Crazy and insane but you wouldn’t have changed anything.

It was New Year’s Day and Joe’s best friend was in town to celebrate his birthday which happened to be the next day. The two of you decided to throw him a little party/get together the day before his actual birthday (because you were very pregnant and didn’t want to ruin their fun on his day, but still you wanted to spend some time with your friend)

Ben was actually the first one to notice you in labor. He could tell something was off with you. You insisted it was nothing as little contractions started to roll over your body. He didn’t like that answer and told Joe, who started freaking out.

In short the party was postponed with the promise to resume it at a later date, but everyone was completely understanding of the situation. Many wishing you and the baby well.

After twelve hours of waiting for her, she finally made her worldly debut. Molly Kay Mazzello, your little m&m, was born on January second (same day as Ben’s, they are birthday buddies, and all four of you usually celebrate together, it’s a thing). Once you heard her screaming cries, you couldn’t have been more overjoyed or tired. But she was here and your life with Molly truly started.

Molly wasn’t a very difficult infant. She had her father’s auburn hair and your eyes. It was the perfect balance between you and your your husband.She was sweet wrapped in a blanket of silliness.

She loved to get into thing much to your wariness. The cupboards were her favorite. She didn’t necessarily like taking the things out of them, she loved getting into them. That lead to Joe clearing out a small cabinet for her. He loved hearing her squeals when she would open the door and climb inside. It was funny when Molly would try and get Joe to join her in there and he couldn’t fit.

She absolutely adored cats. It was so cute to see how excited your daughter would get upon seeing them. You had been raised on a farm and when your little family went to visit your parents, Molly would go crazy taking every opportunity to get outside, trying to get to those kiis. And that’s when you first really noticed it.

You were watching from the window of your parents’ house as Joe and your mother had taken Molly outside yet again. She was currently chasing a cat named Gizmo, screaming enthusiastically at the poor creature, who kept running away whenever she got close enough. She had tripped over her feet once again. It was no problem for her though as she stuck her bottom up in the air pushing her grubby little finger off the ground to continue on her way.

But it was a problem for you. It was her fifth time tripping like that in the past half an hour. Observing her you took the time to really pay attention to how she was walking and hold herself. YOu noticed her were always pointed inward, making her a bit pigeon toed.

It wouldn’t have bothered you so much, but you worried that she when she fell one of these times she was actually going to hurt herself.

You thought about maybe getting her into see her pediatrician, as soon as possible. In the meantime you decided to see if Joe noticed anything.

“Kii! Kii!” The little girl sobbed coming back into the house.

“I know Molly. I know.” Joe held the squirming girl close to him. If he didn’t, she surely would have wiggle her way out of his arms and most likely wandered back outside.

“Hey.” You smiled kissing the man you loved so dearly on the lips. He returned the sentiment before proceeding to get your daughter’s shoes off and wash her hands.

“I have something I want to ask you about, Joe.” You bit your lip out of habit. He nodded his head, indicating that you could continue on with what you needed to say. “Have you ever notice how often Molly falls? Or.” You pause, contemplating how to say this next bit and how your husband will respond to it. “Or have you ever notice how she walks? How her feet turn in?”

Joe frowned and cocked his head to the side, thinking about what you had just said. In all honesty. He noticed the walking issues, but never really thought anything of it, it would probably work itself out once she got older. “I have. But I don’t really see it as a big issue. It’s probably something she’ll grow out of when she gets a bit older. I don’t know.”

“She keeps falling Joe!” Concern displaying over your normally calm features. “In the half an hour that you guys were out there, she stumbled about five times. Maybe even more when I wasn’t really watching.”

“I know I saw. But she was really excited out there, running all over the place, and there loose gravel everywhere. It might be nothing, Y/N. Let’s just see how the rest of the weekend goes. And we’ll talk about this more when we get home.” Joe sighed, his eyes transfixed on Molly Moo’s little feet.

The rest of the vacation was filled with fun memories and good times. There wasn’t anymore talk of Molly’s feet until you got home. Following much discussion, you got Joe to agree with you that maybe it wouldn’t hurt to see Molly’s primary doctor.

Weeks later the doctor’s appointment came. Molly was being her normal playful self. The doctor agreed that the rotation of your baby girl’s feet was more prominent than most children her age. But once again you heard the words come out of her mouth.

It’s normal for children to have rotational problems like that. It doesn’t appear that she is any pain. She’ll grow out of it.

All the doctor prescribed was to get a certain kind of shoe and make sure she wears them, maybe it’ll help with the rotation in her hips. She did suggest going to doctor who more so specialized in children’s orthopedics.

It still bugged to you no end. Hearing the doctor brush it off like it was no big deal. To you it was a big deal. What if she didn’t grow out of it and it got worse? What if she was never able to play sports or run without tripping? Or what if it didn’t correct itself and she gets teased at school for it. You just wanted to help your M&M.

After a couple of months wearing the shoes and walking around the house with her, you saw little change. Joe could tell how much this was all bugging you, so he made the appointment with the specialist. Hopefully they could give you a better reason and solution to the problem.

The new specialist asked you more in depth questions about Molly. Things like when she started walking, when did you first see the deformity, and if it got better or worse over time. Then there the question that were specifically made for you. They were just standard questions. He just wanted to know about your pregnancy, labor and delivery of your child.

Once the neurological side of the exam was over and done with, the doctor called you and your husband back to her office to discuss the next course of action.

“It’s called internal femoral torsion” The new doctor started to explain what that exactly was. “Both the tibia and femur are rotated in, that’s why the toeing in looks as bad as it does.”

You really didn’t know what to say. You had so many questions for the doctor but in that moment your voice was failing to procure itself. Thankfully Joe was able to read your mind.

“How do we fix this sort of thing?” Joe’s mouth hung slightly open after asking for a solution. There was a small stream of panic written across his face. “I mean there has to be some kind of brace or therapy or something. Anything.”

“That would be the most logical answer to this problem. But it your daughter’s case doing nothing would most likely be the best medicine. Mother Nature might just need it’s time to run its course.”

“But what if we do nothing and it gets worse over time? Huh? Then what do we do?” Joe started to raise his voice at the man. He really didn’t like what the man had said. There had to be something they could do.

“Well then-“ The doctor paused. He figured neither of you would like what would come next. “If Molly’s legs haven’t correct themselves. When she’s eight years old we go in, break her legs surgically and fix the problem.”

“If you’ve got to be kidding me.” Joe really got angry now. In fact he stood up and took Molly, who was sitting contently on his lap, out of the room. He hated the idea of doing nothing and then if nothing had changed in the future, causing his child more pain. It wasn’t right in his mind.

The car ride home was mostly silent, all except for Molly’s happy gurgles in the back. It makes you wonder if she evens knows there’s something different about her. You sure hope not, you don’t want to cause her any more pain than what she might face in the future.

Tags: @har-rison-s @dreamerofzaldrizes @ken-yee-not @neymarlionelmessi7 @lets-go-panic-at-discos @minetticatinwonderland @weakling-grace @ponchopadme @killah-queeeen @onceuponadetectivedemigod @ayyy-oh @arrowswithwifi

God I hope you guys liked this

[zephyra-in-the-house]

A Wolf and a Leopard Walk Into a Store... Sounds like the Start to a Bad Joke: Chapter 3

Notes:

Above you is my design for Moo (left) and Terroriser (right).

Like I said when I started, there are certain dynamics and conditions that I will have to introduce because some of these are of my own design.

For this chapter, the most relevant information you need is that not everyone has a subgender. In fact, sub genders are extremely rare and are therefore seen as an imperfect anomaly. More often than not, people with sub genders are discriminated against and kicked out of packs because having a sub gender is considered a disorder. Since it was born by human experiments, people with a sub gender are also correlated with signs of torture and manipulation.

In terms of style, this will be the first time that I switch perspectives. Sometimes, the story will be told from one person’s point of view for a while, but sometimes it switches, so just be aware.

Enjoy!

Previous Chapter: Chapter 2

Back to the Beginning: Chapter 1

Moo’s Perspective:

The next day

   Mornings weren’t exactly my favorite things in the world, but they were when I woke up like this.

  The moment I opened my eyes, I came face to face with a mop of fuzzy brown hair. Something firm and warm lay wrapped up in my arms and I couldn't help relishing in the presence as I buried my nose into the crook of the neck in front of me.

  Brian’s mellow honeydew scent doused my scent glands and I let out a content sigh. His scent was one of my most favorite things in the universe. The mornings like this where we woke up in each other’s arms were mornings that I wouldn’t trade for anything in the world.

   My heart swelled as I felt the body in my arms shift and sink further into my embrace. In response, I threw a leg over Brian's hips and squeezed him lightly. He gave me an incredulous groan and slowly turned his head back towards me. I watched as he took in a deep breath and let it out, the first sign of him waking up.

   “Good morning sleepy head.” I murmured into his neck. Brian squirmed a little in my grasp and groaned again.

   “I don’t wanna wake up.” The werecat grumbled sleepily. I sighed.

   “Does that mean you’re not going to help me make breakfast?”

   One brilliant blue eye cracked open to look at me before he turned away and muttered a muffled, “Hell no.”

   I couldn’t help but smile. “You’re a dick.”

   Brian smirked and snuggled up against me even further. “I know. That’s why you love me.”

  For a moment, the werecat in my arms said nothing else. I took the chance to admire the stubble across his jaw. The wheels in his head seemed to turn as he squeezed his eyes shut and pursed his lips. I smiled when his cerulean blue eyes opened again and he rolled over in my arms to face me with a smile.

  “You know, I could make it up to you if you stayed with me for the morning.” He whispered conspiratorially, a familiar glint in his eyes. I smirked down at him and chuckled.

  “That sounds tempting… But-”, I quickly released him and rolled over to sit up. “I’m not sure I can spend the entire morning in bed with you.”

  There was a pause and then a quiet, “Two hours.”

  I turned to see Brian lying in a burrito of blankets. A pair of blazing blue eyes glared up at me from over the brown comforter.

  “One hour.” I countered. Brian's glare intensified and he seemed to think for a moment.

  “One and a half.” He paused. “That’s enough time, right?”

  I smiled lightly. “Alright. Half hour. Take it or leave it.”

  The sheets shifted as Brian sat up and scowled at me. “One hour. Take it or leave it.”

   I smirked and turned my body to face him completely. “Ten minutes. Final offer.”

   He paused before letting out a defeated sigh. “Fine…”

   I chuckled before lying down next to him again and tucking myself under the blankets. The werecat stayed sitting, his blue eyes glaring down at me.

  “Did you know t’at you’re also a dick?” Brian grumbled.

   “Yep. That’s why we get along.” I replied smoothly. He rolled his eyes and ran a hand through his messy mop of hair.

  “Ten minutes huh? T’at’s definitely not enough time though.” He muttered under his breath.

   The idea of what he was referring to hit me as soon as he said that.

   Suddenly, I became an awkward, embarrassed mess as I tried to avoid eye contact as much as possible. Sure, Brian and I had done that plenty of times before, but it was still a fairly new concept to me that Brian was my boyfriend. Technically, we could have "us" time whenever we wanted.

  Even now though, I felt the small haunting twinge of insecurity in my chest that kept me from acknowledging what he was suggesting.

   “Brockward”, Brian sing-songed from his spot above me.

   I blushed at the nickname and looked up to see the werecat watching me with a sympathetic smile. He understood what was going through my head and, somehow, that warmed my heart enough for me to ignore my insecurities.

   “Shut up.” I huffed, burying my face in the blankets.

   It didn’t take long for Brian to lie down again and pull the blankets away from my face. I glared at him as soon as our eyes met. He simply smiled and threw an arm around me. His warmth seeped into my chest and tinged my fingertips as we drifted in and out of consciousness for a while.

   Admittedly, we stayed in bed longer than 10 minutes, but the hallway was quiet, which meant that no one was awake anyway. I’m not sure how long I spent trying to convince myself to get up and go cook breakfast for the pack, but it was ten in the morning when I twisted around to look at the clock on the bedside table.

  With a sigh, I rubbed my hands over my face and slowly peeled myself away from the comfort of Brian’s arms. He let out a low growl of displeasure and tried to pull me back as soon as I made the slightest move.

  “Brian. You know I gotta get up.” I muttered. The werecat opened one bleary eye to glare at me.

  “It hasn’t been ten minutes yet.”

  “It’s definitely been longer than ten minutes babe.” I muttered fondly.

  Brian's expression dropped for a moment before he broke out into a lopsided grin. “You called me babe.”

  I rolled my eyes and tried to pull away again as heat crept up to fill my cheeks.

  “Are you sure it’s been ten minutes?” Brian whined. I let out an exasperated yet amused groan.

  “Yes. It’s been ten minutes.”

  Brian lifted himself up and leaned over me far enough to see the clock and then some. He paused for a second to glare at something. Then, before I could suspect anything, he dropped down on top of me and sprawled out across my side in an effort to hold me down.

  Before he could fully pin me, I wiggled out from underneath him, threw the blankets off, and jumped up from the bed. I turned just in time to side step my clumsy attacker as he reached out to grab me. Brian barely saved himself from face planting onto the ground with his arms out stretched.

   I chuckled lightly as he retreated back into the blankets and scowled at me from his burrow.

   “Outsmarted yet again. I think that’s 4-0 this week in my favor. I’m doin’ pretty good.” I patted myself on the back as I walked over to one of the dressers in my room to pick out some clothes.

   “Oh whatever. It was 5-2 in my favor last week, so I figured I’d give you some pity points.” The burrito across the room grumbled. I turned to raise an eyebrow at him as I threw on a new shirt and some pants.

  “What’s that? Someone doesn’t want pancakes for breakfast? That’s alright. More for the rest of us.”

   “Hey! T’at’s not fair! At least make me one.” Brian whined adorably from his place on the bed.

   I crossed my arms and glared at him. “What’s the magic word?”

   Brian sighed and scooted down further into his blankets. “Please.”

   “There’s a good boy.” I cooed as I walked over to him. He gave me a disgusted look just before I kissed him lightly on the forehead. “I’ll make one pancake just for you.”

   “What if I wanted two?” The blue eyed demon asked with a quirked eyebrow.

   “Then, you should’ve asked for two.” I responded easily.

   “And yet no one believes me when I say you’re a bigger dick than I am.” Brian grumbled as I moved towards the door.

   “I’m only nice to them ‘cause they say please.” I winked at him and walked out the door, a baffled cry following me out.

   With a self satisfied smile, I made my way to the bathroom before heading downstairs to make breakfast.

  At first, I was tempted to make the pack oatmeal or cereal and leave that out for them. That was normally my go-to on days that I took Brian up on his offer or when I simply felt too lazy to do anything besides watch TV.

   However, I figured that I couldn’t go back up to hang out with Brian after fighting so hard to leave and make breakfast. Plus, I had promised him a pancake.

  So, I decided on making a full course meal.  I liked making big meals from time to time because they gave me time to focus on nothing but cooking for a while. I could space out as long as I wanted. No one else was up to interrupt me either.

   Looking through the fridge for my ingredients, I felt grateful that there was supposed to be a grocery run later that day. We were running low on some things.

  Luckily, with a quick glance through everything, I deducted that there would be enough food for breakfast and lunch that day before we were in trouble.

   Perhaps that was one of the downsides to living with so many people. Cooking for ten grown men never failed to be difficult, especially because their diets were so diverse. Not to mention they were all picky mother truckers. I still enjoyed my time spent making food in the kitchen though.

   I grabbed an apron from the pantry and, after some preparation and dish-washing, began cooking. The smell of eggs, bacon, and pancakes slowly permeated the air. Everything finished cooking about twenty minutes later. I snacked on the bacon as it finished and put everything else on a plate to put in the oven which kept everything warm while I waited for the others to wake up.

  “That smells amazing.” A familiar scent wafted into the kitchen under the thick aroma of bacon.

  I turned to see Vanoss standing in the archway that led to the stairs. His raven locks looked ruffled, as if he had just woken up, but his all gray outfit seemed fresh and a small smile lifted the corners of his lips. His dark brown eyes were fixated on the stove in front of me. I let out a pleased hum and turned back to continue my work.

  “Why thank you. I try.”

  There was a huff of laughter before I heard the wood floor beneath us creak and the air next to me shifted. I glanced sideways to see a pair of tan, muscular arms stretching out towards me.

  A smile danced across my lips as I set down the spatula I'd been using, wiped off my hands on my apron, and turned to hug the alpha.

  Despite Evan being slightly shorter than me, I got the distinct impression that he was the one in charge here. Originally, when I first met him and we decided to become a pack, I was intimidated by the idea of being a subordinate to anyone. After all, that was why I hated my original tribe.

  Evan was different though. It was his tradition to keep the pack healthy by seeing to each individual’s needs. This was a perfect example of that.

  No matter what, Evan always hugged the first person he saw in the morning. Whoever that person was depended on when he woke up but, generally, I was the first one he saw. On the other hand, members like Nogla or Panda, who slept at random hours of the day, rarely got these sorts of hugs.

   I enjoyed the tradition though and Evan was a good friend. In general, he was a tad overbearing to the unfamiliar eye with his muscular arms and resting bitch face. Evan acted tough whenever there were pack matters to attend to or whenever we were out in public, but he was actually really sweet. No one would ever realize that he was the most mischievous and childish one out of all of us or that he gave the best hugs.

   In reality, he was just a buff teddy bear.

   After a moment, Evan let go and leaned back to look at me curiously. “What were you just thinking about?”

   I smirked. “I was thinking that you act scary but you’re really not as intimidating as you pretend.”

   The alpha glared at me and spun on his heel so that he was facing the fridge.

  “I take back my statement about the food smelling delicious. It smells like pooooooop.” He shot back, popping the “p” at the end of his sentence as he opened the fridge and pulled out the milk.

  “Sometimes, I swear you’re a child in a grown man’s body.” I snarked.

  “And what if I am?” Evan gave me a mischievous wink before dancing around the island counter and sitting on the other side with his half full gallon of milk in hand.

  “Hey!” I pointed the spatula at him just as he took the cap off and put the jug to his lips. He stopped and looked at me out of the corner of his eye.

  "You better not be drinking that straight out of the carton.” I growled. Evan looked down at the jug before slowly turning his chair so that I couldn't see what he was doing.

  “Noooooo… Who would do such a thing?” He responded innocently. I watched as he raised the gallon of milk to his mouth and took a huge swig.

  “That is disgusting!” I yelled.

  “That is mahogany!” A horribly high pitched voice shouted from the stairs.

  Evan jumped a little and looked sideways towards the sound. I rolled my eyes and smiled as Scotty came around the corner of the fridge to stand in the kitchen. His tawny hair had been swept neatly to the side of his forehead and his blue eyes were brimming with curiosity as he glanced between me and Evan.

  “Who’s disgusting?” He asked in his normal voice while grabbing a muffin from yesterday’s breakfast off the counter.

  “Our fearless leader over here is chugging the milk straight from the carton.” I informed him with a flick of the spatula in my hand.

  Scotty rose an eyebrow at Evan who had restarted his mission and was gulping down the last half-gallon of milk. I watched in astonishment as the milk quickly disappeared.

  As soon as it was empty, Evan slammed the empty jug on the counter and made a loud, sarcastic “ah” sound. Scotty laughed and reached across the counter to give the alpha a high five. I smacked Scot lightly on the shoulder. He gave me a guilty smile, but not before receiving his high-five.

   “I swear you guys will be the death of me.” I muttered.

  Evan belched loudly in response and received yet another high five from Scotty. I was so focused on the two in front of me that I didn’t notice that Panda had come wandering in from the living room on the other side of the kitchen. He stared at the alpha in surprise before also giving him a high five.

  “Don’t encourage him!” I reprimanded them.

  Panda and Scotty both gave me an apologetic look. Evan, on the other hand, looked so smug that I had to resist the urge to reach across the counter and smack him.

  “You’re going out to get another jug tonight.” I ordered, pointing the spatula at him again.

  “We already had plans to go shopping today so-” He shrugged nonchalantly.

   I rolled my eyes and turned back to my task of making breakfast with a smile while the other three began talking and joking with one another.

   When I was sure that almost everything was done, I pulled out the food that had already been cooked from the oven. Slowly, I began maneuvering all the food over to the counter in a buffet line arrangement.

  At some point, Marcel appeared next to me and began gathering plates and silverware for everyone. I smiled and shoulder checked him. The alpha gave me a smile in return.

   “Where are Mini and Wildcat?” I asked him as we worked.

   “I think they’re both still sleeping." Marcel responded in a soft tone under Panda's laughter. "Mini still smelt sick when Evan and I got home last night. I wouldn’t be surprised if he stays in bed for a while longer."

   I nodded. “I was wondering how he was doing. He’s in Tyler’s room though, isn’t he?”

   Marcel chuckled. “Is that even a question? They may have their fights but you know as well as I do that they come back together eventually. We both know how protective Tyler gets whenever Mini is sick or injured.”

   I sighed. That didn't really answer my question, but the alpha had a point.

  “Yes, I know. They just worry me sometimes.”

   Marcel let out a sympathetic hum as he turned to place some plates on the island counter.

  I couldn't help but notice that we were both worried for different reasons. Mini's three day disappearance last week had shaken the pack in more ways than one. However, most of the pack was more worried about the beta's physical health because of his cold. After Craig told them that he and Tyler had been fighting beforehand though, everyone sort of accepted his vanishing act. I knew better than that.

  “So, I assume you won today’s round of tug-of-war with Brian.” Marcel spoke up. I rolled my eyes and smiled, trying my best to push my worries to the back of my mind.

  “Is that even a question Marcel?” I responded in a mock version of his voice. He chuckled and shook his head.

  “What’s the score this week?” The alpha asked with a sideways glance at me. I smirked.

  “4-0.”

  “My man!” Marcel raised a hand to give me a high-five. I indulged him with a smile, my heart warming at the familiarity.

   Once we set out the plates, Marcel and I filled them with food for everyone that seemed to be awake at the moment. We made sure to set aside food for Tyler and Mini, who still had yet to make an appearance, and Brian.

   After everyone got a plate, we all sat down at the table to eat and join in on our usual banter. It was slightly less noisy without Nogla or Terroriser yelling at everyone, but we still maintained a bit of noise between all of us.

   “Speaking of which,” I piped up from my spot at the table, “when are Lui and Nogla supposed to be back?”

   “I think they said they hoped to be back by today.” Scotty responded around a mouthful of food.

   “Yeah, that’s if they don’t get into trouble again.” Panda commented, eliciting chuckles from everyone at the table.

   “Well, hopefully Lui will be reasonable this time.” Marcel replied before letting out an overly exasperated sigh. “Probably not though.”

   Everyone shook their heads and smiled at the memory of the last time Lui and Nogla went out on their own.

  Apparently, the pair had stopped by a store to get some stuff for the house and the shopkeeper there had been extremely rude to them. So, as a prank, they put glue all over the man’s chair so that he got stuck to it the moment that he sat down. It had been Lui's idea, or at least the other half of him, but Nogla didn't stop the shapeshifter.

  Both demons came running home with humans on their tails. Evan had been furious until he realized that the humans weren’t hunters. In fact, after he listened to Lui and Nogla’s side of the story, he started laughing and, just like that, all was forgiven.

  However, I knew that the event still bothered him. Evan held himself responsible for the actions of the pack as well as their safety. Being discovered by the humans of Panlyog was one of his biggest fears. Letting his pack members interact with humans without his aid came next in line as another one of his biggest fears.

   Even now, I could see Evan's shoulders tensing at the mention of Lui and Nogla. It probably didn’t help that, not only did he have two members out in the field, he also had a member sick with a self-inflicted cold. Yet, somehow, today, he managed to look more anxious than usual. I made a mental note to check on him later.

   When everyone finished their breakfast, we all played rock-paper-scissors to see who would have to clean it all up. To my relief, Scotty and Panda lost out to cleaning the kitchen. Sometimes, I ended up losing so I would have to cook and clean, which was a task that I wasn’t up for most days.

   Leaving Scotty and Panda to complain about doing chores while Marcel and Evan watched movies, I headed upstairs to find out what the others were doing. My first priority was to check on Mini and Wildcat.

  I knocked on Tyler’s door first. When no one responded, I knocked again. Still, no one answered.

  Ignoring the feeling of anxiety in my chest, I moved onto Mini’s room and continued knocking there. It didn't take long for a response to come this time.

  From the other side of the door, I heard a noisy thump, accompanied by a frustrated growl. After several heartbeats, the sound of claws scraping across the door frame grated on my ears. The sound persisted and I glanced down only to see the door knob slowly turn: once… twice… three times. I tried to open the door from my side, but it was locked.

   Bewildered, I waited until the door finally swung open to reveal a very tall, very pissed off tiger. The smell of angry alpha stung at my nostrils as the giant white and black feline stalked forward.

  Instantly, my beta instincts kicked in and my body began producing a calming pheromone to ease the intimidating alpha who’s shoulders stood as tall as my chest, his neck fur bristling.

   There was a moment where the tiger stood in the doorway and didn’t make a move. Then, the scent of anger mellowed and I was finally able to catch Mini’s sweet honey scent drifting out from the room behind the tiger. It smelled stale.

   “Sorry Brock.” Tyler muttered in a voice that sounded nothing short of animalistic. In fact, his voice didn’t even sound like it belonged to him at all.

   Concerned, I cleared my throat and asked in an uncertain voice, “What happened?”

   The tiger scowled, his blue eyes blazing. It took everything in my power not to shrink away from him.

   “I came to see Mini last night. We both fell asleep in there but, this morning, he was gone.”

   Lifting one of his massive paws, the white tiger revealed a half shredded piece of paper stuck in between his claws. I reached down to pull it off in a single motion, careful to avoid the sharp talons staring at me with an intimidating glint.

   In Mini’s handwriting, the note read: “I’m going to see Kryoz and Smii7y. Hopefully they  can tell us what’s wrong with us. I’ll be home soon.”

   “‘Hopefully they can tell us what’s wrong with us.’” I read the line aloud. The tiger in front of me turned his head away.

  “Tyler. Does this mean what I think it does?” I inquired uneasily. The alpha snarled nervously and glared at me out of the corner of his eye. “You’re stuck, aren't you?”

  The flicker of doubt and fear in Tyler's eyes should have been expected, especially since I'd seen it just last week. Normally though, Tyler was strong and he never allowed anyone to see his fear.

  Perhaps their counterparts are changing more than we thought. I thought to myself forlornly.

  Recently, both Mini and Wildcat had started getting stuck in their animal forms. It doesn't sound that bad from an outsider's point of view, but every demon knows how bad it is to be stuck in animal form. Not being able to change back into a human is dangerous for everybody involved. Getting stuck means that a person is reduced to their most basic instincts, which are to hunt and to kill.

  I'd heard many stories about demons getting stuck and, eventually, going feral. For a Feral demon, all self control goes out the window. There had been entire cities wiped out and thousands of people massacred over the years because a demon got "stuck" and decided to kill everyone.The worst part of it was that it normally didn't matter if the demon was facing a friend or a family member. A stuck/feral demon would kill anyone in their way if given the chance.

  Personally, I'd never seen anyone go feral nor had I met someone in danger of going feral or getting stuck. That was until I met Mini and Tyler. Neither of them were at the dangerous stage yet, but it was bound to get there at some point, especially if they continued getting stuck as often as they were.

  Being subgenders only made their current situation more dire than anything else I could think of. Their subgender counterparts, the alpha and beta DNA in them, were keeping them from transforming back into human form.

  Mini and Tyler were very secretive about their recent issues and they had agreed not to tell anyone in the pack. I was good friends with Craig though.

 Months ago, when Mini and Tyler's problem with getting stuck first came up, Mini hadn't been able to hide the truth from me. He told me everything that had been happening and it was only last week that he told Tyler that I knew. I had enough sense to realize that Tyler was still uncertain how to feel about my involvement.

   After several long moments of tense silence, Tyler shook his massive head.

  “Sometimes, I think you’re too good at your job.” He growled.

   “How long?” I asked curtly. A low rumble vibrated the air around me.

   “Since this morning. When I woke up, I was all cat, no claws.”

   “So you were stuck before you even woke up?” I asked, slightly taken aback. Tyler cringed and sat back on his haunches, his black-striped tail lashing back and forth.

  “I know. It’s bad. Plus, I got stuck in that stupid room all day. I couldn’t calm down enough to open the door and I couldn’t yell for help in case anyone started asking questions.”

   “So, Mini must have woken up to this,” I made a gesture at the tiger, “and decided to leave for help.”

  Tyler flicked his ears at me irritably but nodded nonetheless. I heaved a sigh and tilted my head back to look at the ceiling above me.

  It made sense that the beta was visiting the two rogues who lived on the outskirts of our territory. Smii7y had spent years studying subgenders. If there was ever a demon who knew about the subgender gene and it's complications, it would definitely be the young panther. Even if he didn’t know what was happening, Kryoz, Smii7y's mate, would probably be able to figure out how to reverse the transformation temporarily. Still...

  “There was a reason we weren’t going to go to them.” I muttered, glancing down at the white tiger still seated in front of me.

   “You’re telling me.” Tyler growled, his voice sounding better, more human, the more time he spent outside of Mini’s room. Silently, I prayed that no one else would smell him or come upstairs to see him as he was.

  Part of me felt terrible for leaving the pack in the dark. We didn’t tell them for fear that they would panic. However, these incidents were getting more frequent by the days.

  In fact, last week, when Mini disappeared for three days, it was because he had gotten stuck and refused to come to the pack for fear of hurting them. He turned up sometime during the night of the third day, hungry and down with a cold. Neither of us told Vanoss or the rest of the pack the truth behind why he disappeared. We simply made up a lie that Mini and Wildcat had gotten into a fight, which was only half of what actually happened.

   I shook my head and ran my hands over my face. Mini and I had agreed not to tell anyone in the pack that him and his boyfriend had been having issues with their subgender counterparts. This time though, they hadn’t seen Tyler's obstruction coming, which made it worse.

   “Evan can’t find out.”

   Tyler's blue eyes looked up at me gravely. “I know.”

   I folded my arms and shook my head. “It would be easy to just walk out without a word if you didn’t wreak of angry alpha.”

  A warning growl rumbled from the tiger’s throat, to which I rolled my eyes.

   “So, you can’t turn back at all?”

    Tyler shook his head. “I tried once I realized what happened this morning. I still haven’t been able to reverse the shift though.”

   “Try it now.” I suggested.

   The white tiger closed his eyes and shifted on his feet. He stayed like that for several heartbeats, but nothing happened.

  Letting out a low growl, he shook his head. “It’s no use. He won’t let me.”

   I nodded. “I kind of figured. Do you know what he wants?”

   The tiger sighed. “He wants what he always wants.” His blue eyes pulsed anxiously as he glanced around. “I have to find Mini.”

   I watched the tiger carefully as he stood and shook himself roughly. “Ya know, I’m not sure that that’s a good idea. You could end up getting him stuck as well.”

   Tyler blinked and hummed considerably before shaking his head. “As long as he doesn’t fall asleep or transform, he should be safe. Being around each other is how we survived before. Plus, maybe the tiger will  release me or maybe Kryoz will have a solution to shift me back.”

   I let out an uneasy growl as I considered the truth in Tyler's words. The only thing that made me hold my tongue was the chance that the situation could turn from bad to worse. Mini and Tyler had yet to get stuck at the same time, but it was only a matter of time. It was only a matter of time until they...

   “It’s about the only choice we have.” Tyler grumbled. I swallowed a ball of nerves building in my throat and nodded slowly.

   “Unfortunately, I think you might be right." I conceded.

  Tyler noticed my look of concern and turned his head away. He was hiding just as many fears as I was. I could see them swirling through his eyes as he stared at the window down the hall.

  "The problem is, how are we going to sneak you out past the others?” I asked in an effort to distract him. The tiger blinked before turning an inquiring gaze towards me.

   “Are they even awake?”

   I couldn’t help but smile a little at Tyler’s obliviousness. “Yes. I made breakfast so they all came down to eat besides Brian. Everyone's awake… even Panda.”

   The tiger’s eyes widened a little. “Wow. So I’m missing the party."

   I nodded. “Yeah, pretty much… I made some food for everyone. Your meal and Mini’s are in the oven still.”

   Tyler watched me with subdued gratitude, the tip of his tail flicking lightly. I cleared my throat and glanced away, shifting my weight on my feet awkwardly.

   “Anyway, you need to get out of here and find Mini without Vanoss finding out.” I mused. The tiger rumbled considerably.

   “I could always jump to the trees.” He suggested after a moment.

   “From what? The roof?” I asked in disbelief. Tyler nodded his striped head.

  “Why not?”

   I gaped at him for a moment. “Are you serious?”

   “Well, yeah. I saw Scotty do it one time. I could probably do it.”

   I rolled my eyes. “That’s just stupid.”

   “Do you have a better idea?” Tyler countered with an impatient look.

   “You could climb out the window?” I replied, uncertain. He glared up at me, disbelief swirling in his blue eyes.

   “You mean scale a 90 degree wall from two stories up? In this form? I doubt I could make it without breaking something let alone crawl my way out of the window.”

   I shifted on my feet. “Well… at least a two story drop with a little bit of support could be better than a three story drop straight out of a tree.”

   The tiger sighed. “You do have a point … I guess.”

   “It’s about the only choice we got.” I muttered as I walked down the hallway to the window Tyler had been staring at moments ago.

  With a few deft movements, I unlocked it and pulled it open. The sound of heavy paws on hard wood floors followed behind me.

   “Are you sure this is safe?” Tyler asked as he poked his giant head out of the window.

   I shrugged. “Probably not. Oh well though, right?”

   The tiger fixed me with his dubious blue eyes. “Welp. Here goes nothing.”

   I shifted out of the way to allow the tiger past.

   Tyler was already tall in human form and his tiger form was no exception. His shoulders clipped the top of the window as he pulled himself up onto the windowsill.

  I watched the tiger take a deep breath before he slowly started shimmying himself out the window. The sounds of his claws scraping across the side of the house grated on my ears. He only got to his hind legs before they bumped against the top most window and stopped him from getting out the rest of the way.

   “Tyler?” I asked worriedly, stepping forward only to realize that the only thing I could really offer at this point was emotional support.

  The tiger’s tail lashed violently, narrowly missing my face. Then, with some sort of twist and a dedicated snarl, Tyler’s striped hindquarters disappeared out the window.

   I rushed forward to look over the edge and caught the moment that the tiger landed in the grass, on his feet. A sigh of relief escaped my lips before I could really think about it.

  There was a low, distant growl from the tiger as he lifted and rotated each paw experimentally. Once he made sure everything was in its rightful place, he turned his head to look up at the window where I sat.

  He waved his tail a little and flicked his ears at me saying, “I’m fine Brock. Thank you. I’ll be back.”

  With that, he shook himself one more time and trotted off into the forest. I waited until his black and white tail disappeared before reluctantly turning back towards my room.

  I wanted to follow him to see what happened next, but I knew I couldn't. I had to stay behind and cover for them.

  Briefly, I checked the stairway to see if anybody had noticed Tyler's scent and felt my knees go a little weak when I saw no one there. With a small pat on the back for getting Tyler out without anybody noticing, I wandered towards my door, my body already searching for some sort of stress reliever.

   As soon as I opened the door, I was rewarded by the smell of happy werecat. Brian stood dancing in his underwear in the middle of the room, mumbling the words to some song that he was listening to on the TV.

  The sight was so familiar and comforting that I couldn’t help but double over with a breathless chuckle. The stress from Wildcat's incident, combined with Brian’s sweet honeydew scent, made me dizzy and, after a moment, I realized I was about to fall. I sat down roughly on the floor before my body could fail me and leaned back on my hands.

   Brian rushed over, a worried expression imprinted on his face as he crouched down in front of me.

  “Are you okay?” He asked, his hands already reaching for my face. I nodded distractedly as my wave of vertigo subsided.

  “I’m fine. Just a little dizzy."

   “You're stressed." Brian growled, his fingers gently brushing my cheeks despite the stern look in his eyes. "It’s Vanoss again isn’t it? What'd that asshole do this time?”

   I shook my head, smiling internally at the ongoing feud between Evan and Terroriser. “Actually, it’s not really his fault. I’m worried about Mini is all.”

   “I’m sure he’s wit' Wildcat in one of their rooms. He’ll be fine.” Brian responded confidently as he retracted his hand.

   For a moment, I considered letting him continue to believe that. However, I knew it would only create anxiety if anyone went into Mini’s room or Wildcat’s and found that no one was there.

   “Actually, Mini went to Smii7y and Kryoz’s place. Wildcat followed him out.” I informed the werecat, trying to hide my unease as I realized that Wildcat’s scent still faintly clung to my clothing.

  Luckily, Brian didn’t seem to notice the smell of angry alpha clinging to me or drifting in from the hallway. He even shrugged off his faint look of surprise at discovering that Mini and Tyler weren't home.

   “He probably went to see if they had cold medicine, right? Plus, even if I wasn’t right about ‘em being here, I was right to say that they're together. Doesn’t that account for somet’in’?”

   I pursed my lips a little before nodding. “Yeah, you’re right.”

   Brian smiled gently before leaning forward to kiss me on the forehead.

  “Good. Now, stop worrying so much. Come dance wit’ me.” He suggested with a contagious grin.

   I rolled my eyes and chuckled despite myself. “If anything, I’d much rather watch you be a dork than be one myself.”

   “I t’ink you’re a little late on stopping that one BUT, suit yourself.” He quipped as he bounced out of my reach. With an amused huff, I got up and walked over to the bed to sit down.

  As it turned out, Brian had been getting ready to go downstairs to find me before I came up to see him instead. He explained this to me amidst getting dressed and dancing.

  At some point, he grabbed a hair brush and began singing into it. He didn't know all the words to the song that was playing and he was definitely off key, but the sight alone warmed my heart and allowed me to push my worries away. For the moment being, it was just me and him. There were no mysterious alphas or trouble ridden subgenders to worry about. It was just me and the man I wanted to spend the rest of my life with.

  After his song finished, Brian turned off the TV and left the room, still in his underwear. He came back after a while, still dancing to a song that only he could hear.

   “Between you and Mini, Marcel is going to end up getting gray hairs.” I commented as he walked in.

   He paused mid-stride and pointed to himself, as if to say, “Me?”.

   “No the ghost behind you.” I grumbled sarcastically.

  To my reluctant amusement, Brian turned to look behind him. He even went so far as to look under his arms and feet for the imaginary ghost. I chuckled and rolled my eyes.

  “Yes you! Who else would I be talking to?” I questioned in mock exasperation.

   Brian shrugged. “I dunno. Why are we giving Marcel gray hairs though? I t'ought that was Evan and Nogla’s job?”

   I chuckled. “Yes, but if you two keep wandering around the house in your underwear, Marcel’s bound to catch you and lock you outside.”

   "He'd have to catch me first." Brian responded smugly.

   I rolled my eyes. "I'd be willing to bet that he'd catch you within five minutes if you went down there right now."

   Brian’s blue eyes narrowed mischievously. “Challenge accepted.”

  Just before he could turn to run out the door, I reached forward and caught him by the wrist.

   “I wouldn’t do it today." I warned the werecat. "He’s already gonna be angry if he finds out that Evan chugged the last of the milk.”

   Brian turned to look at me with a baffled expression. “Evan did what now?”

  I smiled and shrugged tiredly at the thought of Marcel finding out.

  “T’ere was a half gallon in there…" Brian mused before abruptly crouching down to look directly into my eyes with intrigue. "How long’d it take?”

   “I think it was around 15 seconds.”

   “Good lords that guy’s a beast.” Brian commented, clearly impressed. I smiled while he crawled into bed behind me.

   “That’s one way of putting it.” I muttered.

   A small sigh of laughter resounded through the air. I turned to look at Brian only to realize that he was curling up on the bed, ready to fall asleep again.

   “Are you seriously taking another nap? You probably just woke up from last night’s ‘nap’! And you just got ready to go downstairs.” I uttered in amusement and disbelief.

   “I know, but now I just wanna curl up with my Brocky-boo and fall asleep again.” Brian protested, reaching his arms out for me.

   I rolled my eyes and leaned back to lay on his exposed stomach without letting myself get too comfortable. “Fine. I’m not gonna fall asleep though cause then I won’t be able to go to sleep tonight.”

  Brian let out a content sigh and I knew from experience that he didn't mind.

   One of the many enjoyable things about Brian was the rumble produced through his body when he purred. This phenomenon usually occurred when he slept, but that seemed to be an effect of me sleeping next to him. Brian only ever purred when he was happy and content.

  Once again, my room was coated in the smell of happy werecat which chased away the acrid scent of my stress and Wildcat’s anger.

   I could feel Brian just starting to drift off when, suddenly, there came celebratory shouting from downstairs. I lifted myself drearily from the stomach pillow I’d been laying on and looked around in confusion.

   “What was that?” Brian muttered, his voice thick with sleep.

   I shrugged and rubbed at my eyes. “I have no idea. Either someone just got roasted or Nogla and Lui-”

   As if by design, I was interrupted by a heavily accented voice yelling about something concerning his wings. Brian chuckled.

   “I'd go wit' t'e last one. Nogla and Lui must be home.” He commented. I chuckled and got up from the bed.

  “Most likely. Which means we should go welcome him back before he runs up here and finds you in your tiddywiddies.”

   Brian laughed and kicked at me playfully. “Well t'en go distract him so I can get dressed.”

   I giggled as I headed for the door. “Who knows? Maybe I’ll tell him you aren't dressed just so he can get his camera out and take some pictures.”

   “Ye better not!”

   “We’ll see.” I responded mischievously. A plaintive whine of “babe” followed me to the door. “Just get dressed ya big goof.”

   With a smile, I wandered downstairs and to see what the commotion was about. As soon as I turned the corner into the living room, something white and feathery whacked me in the face. I let out a yelp of surprise and stumbled backwards.

   There was a collection of exasperated groans who muttered "Nogla" as I regained my balance and reached up to rub my face. Within seconds, those voices cut themselves off with yells of astonishment.

   “Nogla! Your wings!” Vanoss barked from behind a giant white appendage.

  I couldn’t see the raven haired shapeshifter over the white feathers and the blinding smile given to me by the 6 foot something angel-like creature standing in my path, but I knew he was there.

   Nogla’s wings shrunk closer to him as he stuffed his hands into the pockets of his green hoodie.

  “Hi Moo! I’m back!” He greeted me enthusiastically.

   “I see that.” I chuckled with a last futile rub at my burning nose.

   “Sorry ‘bout t'e nose. I forget how cramped it gets in here.” He admitted with a nervous smile.

   “You would think that after three years of living here, he would figure out how to keep those things in check.” Marcel commented loudly to Evan, who I assumed was standing next to him.

   I chuckled as Nogla let out an indignant "Hey!" and turned to face the two of them. Luckily, they jumped out of the way just before Nogla’s wings could clip them again.

   “Ye two fookers are just jealous t’at ye don’t have t’ese majestic wings.” Nogla retorted, his wings flaring a little.

   “Uh-huh. T’at’s definitely it.” A familiar voice popped up behind me. I turned a little to see Brian standing behind me, fully clothed and with a smile.

  Nogla turned with a grin just as Brian gently pushed past me to give him a hug. I smiled fondly at the two while they traded murmured greetings.

   Sometimes, I had to remind myself that Terroriser and Nogla had basically grown up together. They lived together for most of their teenage years before they met any of us. That’s why Nogla’s unique accent tended to cling to Brian whenever he spoke.

   Giving Nogla and Brian some privacy, I glanced around the other half of the living room to see that Panda and Scotty were already sitting down. It took me by surprise when I glanced over and saw Mini casually sitting on one of the couches, eating a sandwich. He watched our scene unfold intently. Therefore, it didn’t take long for our eyes to meet.

   Somehow, from that one look, I knew that he hadn’t made progress that morning. He looked tense and a little disturbed for a moment before the emotions were washed off his face and he turned back to participate happily in a conversation between Scotty and Panda.

   “Where’s Lui at?” Brian was asking as I turned back to the group still standing at the edge of the hall way.

   “He wanted to say hi to some people not too far from the border, so I decided to go on ahead.” Nogla responded.

   Brian nodded. “Let me guess, he wanted to say hi to his girlfriend.”

  The two friends chuckled as they migrated to the couches where Marcel had joined the other three in watching a movie.

   Immediately, my attention went to Evan who was still standing where he had been when I first walked in. Coincidentally, he was already looking at me, his brown eyes tinged with worry. I walked over and put a hand on his shoulder.

   “Ya good?” I murmured softly under the renewed noise of the household.

   His eyes didn’t leave me for a good while. The shapeshifter didn’t say a word but, being within such close proximity to him, I could feel his anxiety. I knew why he was anxious even if he didn’t tell me.

   It was our one indisputable rule that none of the members of the pack should go anywhere without another person, especially if they were in the human city.

  Lui was strong and smart in lots of ways, but I knew that Evan worried about him a lot. He was concerned for every member but, to the humans, Lui and Nogla were extremely valuable. Nogla was so unique that any human would want to kidnap him just to study him and there was still a strong desire for shapeshifters on the Market. Evan kept a close eye on the whereabouts of the two just in case he had to save them when they got into trouble. Lui being on his own violated a lot of our rules.

   “He’ll be fine. He can take care of himself.” I reassured Evan, squeezing his shoulder gently.

  The tense alpha simply gave me one of his sad, concerned puppy dog looks before he looked away. I sighed and followed him to the couches to sit down with the others.

   Despite the overall tensions in the pack that Nogla was undoubtedly aware of, he maintained his hyper demeanor. In fact, he tended to be more hyper after missions, if that was even possible. Today seemed to be no exception.

   Nogla told us all about his adventures quite animatedly. Half of us paid attention, but the other half, including Marcel, were too invested in the movie to really pay him any mind. Unfortunately for them, Nogla only increased in excitement and noise as he continued to talk with Vanoss and Brian.

  Eventually, Marcel let out an overly exasperated sigh and sunk down dramatically against the couch.

   “Hey, uh, Nogla? I think you deflated Marcel.” Evan commented with a grin.

   “Legit he has not stopped talking since he got back.” Marcel grumbled.

   Nogla glanced up with a confused look. “Who? Me?”

   The rest of us gawked at him while Marcel yelled, “Yeah! You!”

   A dorky smile swept across Nogla’s face and he glanced down shyly at the bag of candy he was now munching on.

  “That’s just ‘cause I just like ya guys. Ya know…” He trailed off incoherently. I resisted the urge to swoon over him while Brian piped up beside me.

   “I think it’s got somet’in’ to do wit’ t’e eight bags of M&Ms I just ate, but I dunno. I like being wit’ ya guys.” He said in a hyper voice, his accent more exaggerated to imitate Nogla.

   Everyone laughed for a moment and then faded out at as they focused on the movie. Nogla continued chuckling and then, in a quiet voice, he murmured, “I actually like M&Ms.”

   There was a collection of “Oh my Gods” and laughter. Nogla looked at us innocently and continued chewing on his food.

   Mini chuckled, following it up with a weary, “I don't think that was the point Nogla but alright."

   “I love that man.” Brian said in between huffs of laughter.

   For the most part, we spent the rest of the day laughing, poking fun at each other, and watching movies. It wasn’t until later that night that we remembered that we were supposed to have gone grocery shopping.

   Marcel was the first to notice after he went to get a bowl of cereal and found that there was no milk.

   “Who the fuck finished off the milk!?” Came the cry from the kitchen.

   My eyes flickered over to Evan who had suddenly found a profound interest in whatever movie we had put in earlier that evening. I chuckled as Marcel came stomping in with a bowl of cereal without the milk.

   “We had a half gallon last night! How the fuck do you assholes finish all that in one day!?”

   “They chug it.” I muttered quietly with a significant look at Vanoss. Scotty and Panda giggled from across the room.

   “Alright! Who wants to go shopping?” Evan suddenly shouted, standing abruptly.

   “I’ll go.” Scotty responded eagerly. Evan nodded in appreciation before asking again.

  Perhaps it was a trick of the light or my imagination, but I saw a flash of apprehension appear in Scotty’s face for a split second before it disappeared. The incident was so fast that I wasn’t even sure if it actually happened.

  Brushing it off, I glanced over to see Marcel raising his hand as well.

   “I’ll go. Without me, you’d probably forget something… again.” He muttered with an accusatory glare at Vanoss who, to his credit, looked slightly guilty.

  Last time we went shopping, Marcel asked for a candy bar to be brought back with the other groceries. Of course Evan forgot.

   Clearing his throat importantly, Evan continued on. “Anyone else?”

   “I’ll go.” Brian responded from his spot beside me. “I could use some exercise. Plus, I have yet to kick Scotty’s ass in a race.” He added, pointing at the panther across the room.

   “Bring it on, borther.” Scotty replied with an excited grin.

   “I’ll go with too, I guess.” I conceded when Evan glanced at me with a questioning look.

   “That should be enough then. We leave in five minutes.”

   Everyone nodded and the patrol that was to leave dispersed in different directions, some to the bathroom, some to find shoes.

   It only took me a moment to notice that Mini had also disappeared with the others. The smell of that mornings breakfast seeped out from the kitchen. I followed it to find Mini humming to himself while he checked his phone and waited for his food to finish heating up.

 As I walked around the counter and took a seat on a bar stool, I noticed that his gaze was resolutely focused on his phone. His glasses clung to the end of his nose and his silver topped hair looked ruffled, as if he hadn't taken a shower in a few days. The beta didn't look up at me even when I cleared my throat to get his attention. I shook my head.

   “You and Tyler are so much alike, it’s not even funny.” I muttered.

   Mini shrugged. “Probably an effect of living together for so long.”

   “True… You coming with us?” I asked over the sound of the beeping microwave. Mini finally glanced up at me with a frown. Even the blindest person on Earth could see the anxiety and despair in his blue gray eyes as he sighed.

  “No. I have to wait for Tyler. He should be home tonight… Hopefully...” He trailed off, his fingers twitching idly before he turned to open the microwave and retrieve his food.

   I eyed him carefully out of the corner of my eye. Tyler staying out longer had to mean something. If anything, it most likely meant that Kryoz was trying to reverse the transformation or that the panther and his mate were still studying the alpha.  

  “Did Kryoz say how long it would take?” I asked softly.

   Mini looked up at me with vaguely baffled and uncertain eyes, his irises pulsing with fear. I saw a brief look of anger and regret pass his face as he turned away again.

  “He said he wasn’t sure." Mini admitted, albeit somewhat reluctantly. "I’m worried… For many reasons. And, it would be nice to go into town but, even without my issues with Tyler, it would be hard to go without being noticed. You know what happened last time.”

   I recoiled slightly from the memory. Honestly, I had forgotten about the incident with the humans but it only made sense that Mini hadn’t. He was very aware of what other people thought of him.

  "We would protect you.” I reassured him with an apologetic look as I walked closer to sling my arm around his shoulders. “It’s not like many of the humans are up this late anyway. I don’t think it’ll take very long to get what we need either.”

   Mini reached an arm around my waist and squeezed me gently. He still looked exhausted, but I could tell the contact was already helping him. A small smile touched his lips before it disappeared once more.

  “I know. I just don’t feel up to it at the moment. Plus, I need to wait to talk to Tyler… alone.” Mini pointed out with an ambivalent expression. I rubbed his shoulder comfortingly and sighed.

  “I can respect that…” In an undertone, I murmured, “Just don’t get too lost in your head Craig. We want you to be healthy… Physically,” I let go of him long enough to point at his chest, “And mentally.” I finished with a gentle tap on his cheek.

   He nodded and smiled sweetly. “I know.”

   “Good.” I ruffled his hair slightly and patted him on the back. “As long as you know. Take your time while we’re gone. I know you and Wildcat could use it. I'll see you two nerds later.”

  I chuckled as Mini gave me a scandalized look. A gentle huff of laughter and a quiet “Thank you” followed me out of the kitchen as I headed outside to meet the others.

  Vanoss stood the furthest from the front door, looking down at his phone in his human form. Marcel's white pelt shone silver under the dim moon light a few feet away, its color accentuated by the fluorescent green and purple stripes pulsing through his fur. Scotty was nothing but a shadow as he circled the stocky tiger on silent paws. Brian sat observing the two demons as they staged a mock fight, his brown and black hair rippling with excitement.

   I shifted into my werecat form as well, only mildly unsettled by the snapping of bones that echoed through my ears. Even though I preferred slow shifting, I sometimes wondered what it would be like to shift within seconds like a shapeshifter. Slow shifting was less painful though and I relished in the sensations that my new skin brought as my transformation finished. I spent a moment admiring the dirt between my claws before turning my attention to Vanoss.

   As expected, the alpha was watching me with a patient expression on his face. Once I made eye contact with him, there was a loud click and suddenly everyone was at attention. Evan scanned our faces individually before nodding in approval.

   “Alright! Is everyone ready?” He asked. There was one unified click of affirmation before Evan began his own transformation.

   When I shifted, I never thought of myself as graceful or poised when I finally landed on all fours, but Evan made his shift look almost majestic. The way the golden fur of his leopard form slipped out and his eyes burned brighter as they shifted to accommodate his shift was something straight out of a movie. Of course, I would never say it out loud but I knew the others were thinking something along the same lines as they let out small huffs of appreciation or amusement.

  Once his paws touched the ground, Evan shook himself and set off at the head of the group with the rest of us following close behind. I fell into step next to Brian as the group trailed out into the forest.

   “Well hello there gorgeous.” The werecat rumbled seductively, his spotted tail gently flicking my shoulder.

   I rolled my eyes and followed Marcel’s fluorescent purple-green tail through the bushes.

Notes:

So, I hope you guys enjoyed. Some notes for this chapter: On the topic of subgenders: As stated in the notes at the beginning of the chapter, subgenders were made in a laboratory by humans who wish to undermine the influence of the demons in their world. This means that, not only are they studying demons and figuring out how to kill them, they are also trying to take away every demon's rationale and logic by making them dependent on specific things, like sex. By definition, sub genders are demons who are hard wired for reproduction and, therefore, must find a mate in order to avoid going insane (Insanity being defined by losing all sense of humanity and thought which turns demons into slaughterers of entire civilizations in most cases). In a way, by creating subgenders, the humans have turned those demons into a mutilated form of livestock, animals unable to think critically and retaliate against their captors. Of course, the process isn't complete so sub genders can still think for themselves and they only have rare moments where they can't control their instincts (i.e. during ruts and heats). This is the history of how subs were created.

On a less serious note, I want to address the phrase "all cat and no claws". When Tyler says this, he is referring to his mind. The term "no claws", as used in this phrase, has no relation to his physical claws. Essentially, this phrase means that, by giving up his body to the demon inside, he's lost all intelligence and rationality and therefore has "no claws" to defend himself. It's a common saying among felines. Little fun fact for you guys~

Thank you for reading ♥